Chapter Eleven

"You look lovely today, Rose," Killian says, as Emma places a vase of flowers in his chamber.

He stands beside Alexander's bed, still in his night clothes— a baggy white shirt and equally as baggy trousers. He's watching her with such a Killian-like expression, Emma almost smiles. But she doesn't. She can't break character.

"Thank you, Your Grace," she says, as she arranges the flowers. She doesn't look at him. The heat from the lights are on the back of her neck.

"Why the formalities?"

"You are my King."

"Not yet." That's true. He has yet to be crowned.

She feels him shift closer to her, but she keeps her eyes on the flowers, rearranging them, making them look beautiful. When he gets close enough that she can feel him breathe, she turns and crosses the room to his bed. She grasps the bed sheet and shakes. She hates when she has to make the bed— the sheets are so heavy.

"Your hair. It's different."

"Is it?" She can still feel his eyes on her.

"It's braided. The ladies of court wear it like that."

"It's more practical."

There's a pause, the air between them thick with tension. Emma fluffs up the pillows, still not looking at him. It's frustrating, especially because Emma longs to look at Killian. It feels… wrong to ignore him like this.

"I haven't seen you for a while."

"I've been busy."

"You've been spending a lot of time with Edmund." His voice is soft. Killian brings out Alexander's vulnerability just perfect.

Emma sighs and looks up at him. She tilts her head. "He's just a friend."

"And what am I?"

"Cut," comes a voice that's certainly not Grumpy's. Emma looks over and sure enough, Isaac steps into the light, hands clasped in front of him, smirking just a little. She wonders if his face is a permanent smirk. Maybe he was born like it.

"What's wrong?" she asks, looking directly at Isaac.

"Yeah," Grumpy says. Emma doesn't miss the hint of irritation in his voice. "Yeah, what's wrong?"

Isaac clears his throat. "Killian seems to have… misworded his line."

"I know my line," Killian says. His own words are sparked with irritation.

"Forgive me, Killian. But then why did you get it wrong?"

"I didn't get it wrong," he snaps. Emma places a hand on his arm, trying to calm him. His next words are back to normal. "I know my lines. It was, 'And what am I?"

"Rose," Isaac says, his smirk twisting triumphantly. "And what am I, Rose."

"Oh come on," Emma says, before she can stop herself. "That's stupid."

"Is it?"

"Yes," Grumpy booms, standing up out of his director's chair. "We never call cut for things like that. Ever. We are on a damn tight schedule and it is people like you who slow us down."

There's a pause. And then, "I think we should call this a wrap."

"No, Isaac. What you did there was out of line. You might be under the impression that you are the boss, and you can just come in here and change everything whenever you want, but you will not cut short Alexander and Rose's scenes. You may have gotten your way with the scripts, but they are still the main characters in the show, and I plan to give them the time and effort they deserve."

"Excuse—"

"And don't you ever call cut again. You don't get to decide when we wrap, and neither does Cruella. That power remains with the head director and the head director alone. You can see yourself out."

There is silence. Complete and utter silence as they stare at each other. Emma feels her heart flutter in her chest. She has a very, very, very bad feeling…

"Very well," Isaac says, and whips out the room, Cruella right behind him.

As soon as he's gone, the tension deflates. It's Killian who starts to laugh first, beginning with slow, confused chuckles. It isn't long before he's laughing properly, and his laugh is so contagious, Emma joins in. Soon everyone is laughing, even Grumpy — especially Grumpy — wiping tears from his eyes.

"He'll probably make you pay for that," Killian says, when he can speak again.

"Let him. I'll give him hell, even if it means I lose my job."

"Grumpy," Emma says, surprised by his words.

"Don't worry about it, sister. It takes a lot to get rid of me." He shrugs it off. "Anyway, back to it you slackers! Positions! We're go from your line, Killian."

Killian nods.

"Oh, and Killian?"

"Yes?"

"Make sure you drop that Rose."

He chuckles and salutes. "Aye, aye Captain."

More days pass, and more scripts come through Emma's door. The lack of scenes between her and Killian are enough to put her off reading the scripts altogether. Part of her wishes she had when she sees the last line.

'Rose can't deny her feelings for Edmund anymore - she knows she can't be with Alexander.'

Even though everything has been leading up to this moment, even though she knows she shouldn't be surprised, she is. She is shocked. Even though she overheard the conversation between Belle and Isaac, she didn't think he'd actually get away with it. She thought that Alexander and Rose might fall back together. Like Killian said— they're the couple. They're the favourites. She doesn't understand.

"Something got you down?" comes a familiar Irish accented voice from above her. She looks up to see Graham standing over her, two slices of chocolate cake in each hand. He holds one out to her. "Cake?"

She smiles. "Sure."

She hasn't seen him in so long, she can't keep the smile off her face. She forgot how curly his hair is, or how kind his eyes are.

He places the cake on the table and pulls the cafeteria chair out. But he must think better of it because he says, "How long's your break?"

"A few hours." She frowns. "Why?"

"I know an adorable little cafe around the corner. It's never crowded and the baristas know me. They let me keep a low profile."

She frowns, looking down at her array of purple skirts. "I'm in my costume."

"You can wear my coat."

She considers this. "Deal."

Ten minutes later, Emma is huddled in a booth in the corner of the coffee shop, Graham's coat draped around her. No-one has recognised her yet, but it's only a matter of time before someone does. Unless she's lucky, but she's probably pushing it with the costume.

The coffee shop is an adorable one. It's small and practically empty. Various artworks hang on the chocolate walls, some of children, some of women, others of flowers. All of them are beautiful and she finds herself gazing at them until Graham returns.

When he does, he's carrying a tray of two coffees and two slices of chocolate cake. They look so much more delicious than the efforts the set cafeteria sell. She takes a bite almost at once. It's moist, melting into her mouth.

"Good?" Graham laughs as he sits down.

"You know it," she says, mouth full of cake.

It's only when he's sat opposite her, smiling at her, that she realises exactly how long it's been. Weeks. She feels the full impact of his loss, and suddenly her heart feels heavy. Though they work on the same show, he's filming his own little subplot far away from Rose's storyline. Probably another one of Isaac's ideas. God forbid she film with anyone other than August.

"How's it going?" she asks.

"Good, y'know."

"Still with Ruby?"

"Yep!" His eyes twinkle. "She now has a drawer."

"A drawer?" Emma tilts her head.

"In my apartment. Her own drawer. And her own closet space." He pauses, and then chuckles. "And her own bathroom cupboard."

"Wow, you might as well move in together."

"You know what? I'm thinking about it."

Emma has to quickly swallow her mouthful of cake. "You're what? That's quick."

"When it's right, it's right. And I'm happy."

He certainly does look happy. He's always had that twinkle in his eyes, but it seems much more twinkly today. His skin is clearer, and it's like he can't keep the smile off his face. It makes him look even more handsome.

"I'm happy for you, Graham," she says, with a surge of joy. "I really am."

"And I'm happy for you." He picks up his coffee, bringing it to his lips. "From the way I hear it, you and Killian are going strong. I'm glad to hear that. It's strange to think I almost got in the way of that." He chuckles, shaking his head. "Though, to be honest, I'm not sure I could have. You guys are pretty strong; you always were."

She doesn't know exactly what to say to that. She's glad she's sat in the dark of the booth so he can't see the blush run up her neck. She decides to change the subject to something much safer.

"I got a Twitter!"

"Oh no. You succumbed, I see?"

"Yep. And I followed you. But you haven't followed me back." She glares at him playfully, and he laughs.

"If you actually looked at my profile you would see that I haven't posted anything since 2012."

She frowns. "You haven't?" She thought all the cast used their Twitters. It was the done thing.

"I only have one Tweet and it's, 'This is me. The real Graham. This is my Twitter. ' That's all."

She laughs. "Ah, I see. You're not a Twitter person, then?"

"Not really a fan of social media." He shrugs. "There's a lot of hate going around there."

There's also a lot of love, she thinks, remembering all the welcomes she got just for just joining, and the way everyone freaked out when she and Killian tweeted.

They fall into an easy chatter. Graham tells Emma that he's taking Ruby away on a mini-weekend break, which should be nice. Emma tells Graham how Henry's getting on in school.

"I've missed him," Graham says, with a fond smile.

They make a promise to watch the episodes together when they air, like old times. Emma can't keep the smile off her face— she knows Henry will love that, especially if they bring Elsa. He might have to hide the Elsa poster though, and change his computer background.

Once they start talking about the episodes, Emma knows the inevitable is coming. And sure enough, they move onto talking about the scripts, and the changes in the show.

"I don't like Isaac," he says, frowning at his coffee. "I don't like the way he talks. Or the way he looks at me like he knows something I don't."

"Tell me about it," she sighs.

"And I don't like what he's doing with the scripts. He's cut my screen time. He's cut Robin's and Elsa's. Not to mention, what he's doing with that Edmund character? What's he thinking? Breaking up Alexander and Rose like that, and then putting Rose with a completely new and strange character? Talk about the way to kill a show."

"I don't know." She's been wondering the same thing herself.

"Maybe he wants it cancelled," he says.

"That's crazy." And it is. Why would Isaac come in and make changes to see that the show is cancelled? At the end of the day, it would be his writing career that would be ruined, and it would be his name to go up in smoke, not Belle's.

"It's the only thing that makes any sense." He takes a sip of his coffee. "What does Killian think about Rose's new love interest? Has he read the scripts?"

"I don't know. We haven't even talked about it."

"Maybe you should."

"But they're characters."

She doesn't know why she's arguing with him; she knows he's right. They may be characters, but she and Killian are still going to have to work together, he's still going to have to watch her kiss someone else, and maybe vice versa. Graham says as much to her, like he can read her thoughts and she has no choice but to admit defeat.

"How do you feel about it?" He asks, his eyes so open, so searching, on hers.

"I haven't thought about it." She doesn't want to think about it.

"I mean, you're gonna be kissing someone else probably in front of Killian. Would it make you uncomfortable?"

"I guess. I don't know." She shrugs. "I mean, August is a nice guy and we get on well so—"

"I don't like him."

She raises her eyebrows. "You don't?"

"Nope."

"Why?"

"I don't know." He frowns, eyebrows pulling together. "I just don't trust him. There's something about him that seems… off."

She gives him a look. "C'mon, when I started talking to you, Killian didn't like you and look how that turned out. You're like a puppy." She laughs at herself.

But he doesn't laugh. He leans forward, lowering his voice. "Emma, Killian didn't like me for good reason. He loved you, and my intentions were far from honourable. He was right not to trust me." He pauses, letting that sink in, before he sits back in his seat. "What does Killian think of August?"

"He hasn't said."

"Ask him."

"Graham…" She laughs, though it sounds off to her own ears. "Killian wouldn't tell me if he didn't like August. He wouldn't want to sound like a jealous boyfriend. Which is kinda how you sound right now."

"I'm just trying to look out for you, Emma."

"And I don't need looking out for. I'm a grown woman. Besides, this is… set, not a playground. It doesn't matter who likes who. I don't have a problem with August, and until you can give me a reason why, I don't see why I should." She fixes him with a serious gaze. "Can you? Can you give me a reason?"

He meets her eyes, and then sighs. "No."

"Exactly."

"Just… be careful."

"My guard is up."

Despite the turn of conversation, they leave on good terms. Graham's heart is in the right place, and Emma knows that if it were reversed, and she had a bad feeling about one of Graham's friends, she'd say the same.

But there is one thing he was right about.

When she gets home, after she's had something to eat and a shower, she texts Killian.

Have you read the scripts?

As always, he is quick to reply.

Of course.

We need to talk.

I couldn't agree more. Come on over, I'll put some coffee on.

She smiles, but shakes her head.

Gonna need something a bit stronger than that for this conversation.

Bring rum. I'm out.

It's been raining again, so the pavement sparkles in the darkness as the cab rolls up to Killian's house. She pays the driver, jumps out, and makes a beeline for the house, rum in her hand, a bottle of wine in the other. She hardly makes it up the steps before a man appears from out the shadows. She almost screams.

"Sidney Glass," the man says, extending a hand. When he sees that both her hands are full, he drops his own. "The Mirror."

"Are you a stalker?" The words come out of her mouth before she can stop them. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I was wondering if you could give me a quick interview."

"Nope." She begins to walk, but he blocks her path, standing in front of her.

He flashes her a smile. "It won't take long."

"I don't wanna talk." She tries to skirt around him, but he's too quick for her. He moves like lightning, even though he must be in his fifties or something.

"Just a few questions, Emma Swan. I was wondering if you and Killian Jones are dating?"

Her heart jolts. She tries to keep her voice steady as she says, "Oh, piss off."

"Is that why you're here? Are you sleeping with him, Emma?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"So you are." His eyes gleam in the darkness. "Are you aware of his past? His string of lovers?"

"Get out of the way."

He doesn't move. "What about that baby scare? Are you pregnant, Emma?"

"No." That's when she remembers what paper he said he was from. The Mirror. "You published that article about me," she says with quiet realisation. "The one about me being pregnant. You twisted my words around."

He gives her a smile. "I only report the truth."

"I'm sure." She searches his face, the way his eyes gleam with hunger for more information. She has the feeling that he must have deadlines to meet, and some big bad boss who makes him stalk people in the rain. She almost feels sorry for him. "Okay, I have something for you. But I'm only gonna say it once, so you're gonna have to listen very carefully, okay?"

He nods, swallowing, and leans forward.

She draws in a breath. "Get. A. Life."

It's enough to distract him and she scoots around him and up the garden path before he can register what's happening. But when he does, he actually follows her up to Killian's door, stopping shy of the steps. She rings the bell, once, twice, three times. C'mon Killian, she thinks.

She hears his laugh before he opens the door. "Alright, alright, I'm coming." The laughter drops from his eyes as soon as he sees her expression. "What's wrong?"

"Ah, Killian Jones. I was wondering if you could indulge me in a few questions," Sidney calls from the steps. He mustn't be brave enough to venture onto the porch.

Killian's eyes darken. "No, I bloody can't."

"Are you and Emma dating?"

"Emma and I are good friends. Thank you and goodnight."

"Is that why Emma is here at—" He checks his watch. "10 o'clock at night? To "hang out" as friends, or to stay the night?" He cocks an eyebrow. "Make no mistake, if she doesn't leave tonight, I will tell the people the truth. You can either answer my questions now, or you can read what I write tomorrow morning."

In the midst of his threat, Emma runs into the house. She can still hear him from the hallway.

"How do you feel about Emma's pregnancy?"

"Emma is not pregnant, and if you're still here in— let's give you five minutes — I'll call the police. You are trespassing."

"Until next time, then."

Killian doesn't say anything else, but slams the door. When he turns to face her, he's shaking with rage. He shrugs it off, taking in a deep breath and exhaling through his mouth.

"Are you okay?" she asks softly, approaching him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Though she's still trembling a little. "I'm just gonna have to get used to it." She holds the wine and rum up. "Anyway, let's crack these open. I need a drink, and I'm sure you do too."

"Moreso after that."

She disappears into the living room, and he into the kitchen. He returns with two glasses, and sets them on the coffee table, before joining her on the sofa. She's in the middle of pouring her wine when Killian gently takes the bottle from her hands.

"Hey!"

"I should be doing this. You are a guest in my home." He kisses her nose.

"Yeah, but I practically live here now."

"You do." He stops pouring just short of the rim. "Have you eaten?"

"Yep. Have you?"

"I have. Not too long ago. I was going to make you something if you hadn't," he says by way of explanation. She grabs her wine and swallows half of it in one go. "It's a good thing you have eaten. Something on your mind?"

"Like I said, we need to talk."

"And you need to be drunk to talk to me?"

"About this? Just mildly tipsy." She swallows even more of her wine before she turns her head to him. She should be standing for this. It'll keep her on her toes, and her head clear, but sitting down keeps her steady. "You've read the scripts?"

He raises his eyebrows. "I said I had."

"And you've seen what's… in them."

"If you're referring to the break up of Rose and Alexander, then yes."

She takes in a breath. Her heart is in her throat. She places her glass on the side of the table. Killian doesn't even touch his rum.

"And… and Edmund."

"Aye."

He's patient, she'll give him that.

"Look," she begins. She looks down at her hands as she speaks. "I know that it's not been said yet, but obviously it's been implied. It's gonna happen. Rose and Edmund are going to end up together, which I guess isn't so bad. And I guess we don't know yet, but we'll probably have to… have to kiss and—"

"You haven't read the scripts?"

Her eyes fly to his. He's frowning. "I have."

"Another one came through the mail today. Have you read that one?"

She frowns. "No." She didn't notice a script when she got in, but then again, she didn't notice much. She was too preoccupied with Killian and texting him.

"There's a kiss. Between Edmund and Rose, I mean."

Her stomach drops. "O-oh."

He takes her hand. His palm is warm around her ice fingers. To her surprise, he chuckles. "You look like a startled cat. Why are you so worried?"

She frowns at him. "Because I'm going to have to kiss someone else?"

"And?"

She searches for some sign of annoyance in his face, but there's nothing. Nothing to show he's uncomfortable. "And that… that doesn't bother you?"

He laughs. "Oh Emma, of course it bothers me. The thought of any man kissing you, let alone August, fills me with jealousy and makes me imagine all kinds of awful things. Like ripping off his head for instance." He chuckles again.

She doesn't understand. "But…"

"But," He squeezes her hand. "It's not real. It's acting. I knew what would happen when I signed up for this job, and so did you. Kissing will always be a requirement. I've kissed many people in this job, and I'll continue to kiss many more, and so will you."

She reflects on his words, nodding.

"I'm not so insecure that some amateurish kissing is going to bother me. Not in this job."

"Even if you'll have to watch?"

A small smile crosses his face. A smile of reassurance. "Even if I have to watch."

She thinks about how she'd feel if she had to watch Killian kiss someone else. She imagines it; she imagines him running his hands through their hair, his lips on theirs, and her blood boils. She almost can't string a sentence together, the jealousy is so strong. She's going to have to get over that and quickly.

"So you're… you're really okay with it?"

"What would you say if I wasn't?" He laughs again. "But I am."

"Huh."

"The way I see it, August may kiss you on set, in front of millions of people watching your every move, but I kiss you in private." He moves closer to her and if to prove a point, he presses a quick kiss to her lips. "I get to hold your hand, and take you on dates, and hold you, and make love to you." Her heart flutters for an entirely different reason. His eyes sparkle. "I'd be a little worried if you took up those activities with August."

She scoffs. "As if."

"Exactly."

She looks up at him through her eyelashes. She feels better after that conversation, lighter. She watches as he finally picks up his rum, watching the way his shoulders move with every movement, and the way he brings it up to his lips. She starts to wonder why they were even wasting their time on such trivial matters when they could have been doing other things.

He catches her staring. "What?"

"Talking about making love…"

"Ah, you're mistaken. We weren't speaking about it; I merely mentioned it in passing. God knows what conversation you were having."

"Hey!" She goes to whack him on the arm, but he catches her hand.

"You're a feisty lass, do you know that?"

"You love it."

"Oh, I do."

He leans forward to kiss her. She lets him for a few seconds, but when his hands move to find her hair, she shuffles out of his arms. He throws a wounded expression, but she jumps up out of the sofa.

She flips her hair over her shoulder. "I've changed my mind."

"... What?"

"You heard me. I'm probably just gonna head to bed."

She makes a point of yawning and stretching her arms high above her head, reaching up on her tiptoes. Then she feels strong arms around her waist and the floor disappears underneath her feet. Before she knows what's happening, she's pinned to the sofa, her arms above her head and he's looking down at her, one eyebrow raised.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

She laughs. "Nope."

He sits up and she follows him. They stare at each other for a moment, with soft smiles, listening to each other's breathing.

"It's going to be alright," Killian says. "I can feel it."

"So can I."

She leans forward and kisses him, hands moving to his neck. He kisses her back with those long slow kisses he knows she likes. She's so distracted she hardly notices when he pulls her shirt up and over her head, throwing it halfway across the room. But she does notice when he runs his fingertips down her sides and cold metal makes her yelp.

"Take your damn rings off for God's sake," she growls.

"If the lady insists."

Then it's his shirt to come off and he's trembling as she trails her fingertips down his stomach, hardly touching his skin. And then all of his clothes come off, and it makes him chuckle.

"Someone's impatient."

"Shut up and kiss me."

Then they're kissing again, and Killian is trailing his lips down her neck and she can't even breathe, let alone think. A moment of quiet, whispered pleading in his ear and then he's touching her. Another moment of soft words, words that would make her flush with embarrassment any other time, and then they're moving together and everything is as it should be.

And Emma knows Killian is right, and everything will be okay.

Thank you for reading! I'm super ahead with my writing on this one so I might post another chapter tomorrow, if you're up for it! Let me know what you think ;)