A/N: Things are getting heated. Not long now, team. =]

Enjoy your weekend, don't forget to drop me a line.

And enjoy the chappie! xx

Burn

When Emma came to her senses, Killian was kissing down her body, small pinpricks of pleasure dotting over her light skin, downwards over her bra towards her stomach. Her body was leaning into him, yearning for his touch where she needed it most desperately.

The frantic movements of their mostly clothed bodies were doing nothing to relieve the rising temperature in the room. But despite Killian's hand that was desperately tugging at the drawstring of her pants, Emma tried to still her breathing, letting go of the warmth of his bare chest beneath her fingertips and tried to give herself some distance. For a moment, he continued kissing at her hip before he slumped, having felt her shying away from him and groaned indistinctly into her skin in annoyance.

"Get off me."

Hearing the tone in Emma's voice, Killian didn't argue and sat up, letting her crawl backwards and up towards the pillow. He didn't miss the way she tried to hide her exposed skin as she turned to the side, reaching for her tank and threw it back on. She was avoiding eye contact with him.

Inside her, an internal war was raging. Her body was screaming at her to pull the man back to her and have her way with him, but reason was arguing. Something about him was telling her that if she gave in, it wouldn't be a one-time thing. And she wasn't the person who ran in and pulled apart relationships for the sake of some stupid physical need that she didn't quite understand.

Killian on the other hand, wouldn't stop staring at her. And when she finally looked back at him, she saw the lust gazing at her from within his blue eyes, ever darkening, and questioned herself.

"I need to get you out of my head," Killian groaned, crawling forward once more, crashing his lips down upon hers. This kiss was different. No longer passionate and intense, it was fierce and angry and for a moment, Emma almost gave in.

"No," she groaned as he tried to kiss her again. But he closed his eyes and sighed, leaning back as he grabbed his shirt and got off the bed. He was breathing heavily with arousal, as was she, but he stood across the room to enable them a moment to talk without getting caught up again.

"Whatever this is," Emma began, trying her hardest not to look at him. "It stops now."

He could understand why, and he wouldn't argue with her, because she was absolutely right. There was a reason why he had stopped this last night. But here he was again.

He wouldn't be able to stay away from her.

And to be honest, she didn't want him to.

"You say that, love," Killian answered, his voice husky. "But we won't stop."

They were like stars, forced on a path that meant they were burning every time they saw each other. But inevitably they would crash and burn – into each other. It wasn't that they wouldn't stop, it was that they couldn't.

"We will if we stay away from each other," she said, keeping her calm. "I'll drop out of Lit."

"You will do no such thing," he almost growled, taking a step forward. "You're the best student in that class."

"You can't tell me what to do, Jones," she frowned, looking at him and he conceded, taking his step back.

"Please don't drop the class."

Emma hesitated. She did like Shakespeare after all. "If that's the only time we see each other then it'll be fine, won't it?"

Killian nodded, but he knew it wouldn't be. She'd grown to love the hot chocolate at his coffee place, she'd be at his gigs at Pixie Hollow, and somehow, they seemed to run into each other everywhere.

But it had to stop.

So, he walked out of that room without another word, his heart pounding in his chest, and he tried to forget her. Emma pulled her papers up from the ground and tried to make like nothing had happened, but she couldn't distract herself from him, even by delving into the poem of Venus and Adonis which was published in the back of Othello. It really wasn't a great idea.

She tried to let the words calm her, but they did nothing to help her.

Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies.

She put aside the book and buried herself in her pillow.

xxx

Milah sighed contentedly as she collapsed into the bed beside Graham. It was strange. She thought she'd be running for the hills like she did with every other one night stand. But she didn't know if it was the absence of guilt that let her stay, or whether it was the comfort of Graham as he rolled his arm over her side, drawing her into his warmth, but either way, she didn't want to run. She didn't even want to move.

"Thank you," she finally found herself murmuring as she drew lines along his tanned arms. She breathed in deeply as she leant into him, her dark hair falling about her shoulders as Graham placed light kisses along her shoulder.

"Do you want to tell me what upset you?" he murmured into her skin. Milah flinched at his words unintentionally and he stopped moving, thinking maybe she had changed her mind. Instead she turned over to face him and took his lips in hers once more. She kissed him with a passion that he slowed, once more bringing it back to a simmering fire. Something…something new. Milah wasn't used to it. She wasn't quite sure; she thought it could be…

And when she threaded her hands through his hair, drawing their bodies against each other closely, Graham looked into her blue eyes and saw the fear in them. And he couldn't tell what it was from, but he traced her face and asked her quietly, sincerely, and with not a thought other than the woman he held tenderly in his arms, "Will you let me make love to you, Milah?"

And she answered him with one more kiss.

xxx

Killian was using Olivia's computer.

She was off on a night class and apparently was still avoiding him. Her password wasn't exactly easy, but he'd been watching her type it in for years and within moments had her desktop open. He bit his lip as he thought of what he was looking for, but found it easily. For having been in this world for a while, Olivia wasn't exactly computer literate.

Killian on the other hand, whilst he didn't like phones, had adapted surprisingly well to the technology. Olivia's folders all sat neatly organised on her desktop, separated into work and, well, more work. The woman really didn't have any life outside of teaching and keeping them undercover.

Well, he shrugged, it was nice to know that she cared. But Killian couldn't help but feel that it was something deeper that made her so adamant to help. After all, she wasn't from their world even though she knew everything there was to know about it.

Under the folder titled Storybrooke, Killian found almost a hundred files more than the one he'd sent her last week. Each was no more than a few pages, so he checked the printer paper and selected them all to be sent there. By the time the first document was done, he'd calmed down from his interlude with Swan and was back in a business state of mind.

Grabbing the first few pages from the drawer, he scanned over the words, soaking them in like they were the most important things he'd ever read.

And quite literally, they were.

For those who weren't bound by the curse – those who came from other lands, or time jumped, or arrived prior to its instigation – there is a chance for normal existence, provided they are never found out. However, since they all refuse to change their names, I've had to put special effort into concealing their identities. Mine's almost undetectable, but with a quick internet search, they'd all be found out.

I've warned Killian that his band is a distraction, but more than that, it makes them targets. They don't know it yet, but Baelfire's getting closer. Last year, he was in Russia, but now he's been spotted in Seattle with Peter. And I know it's only a matter of time. I'm going to have to tell them all soon.

The sound of heels on wood alerted him to Olivia's presence but he didn't raise his head.

"Something you'd like to share, Liv?" he asked, not looking up at her, but waving towards the printer. "Or, a lot you'd like to share?"

But she didn't answer, merely standing in the doorway silently. Eventually, with a frown, Killian looked up, to find that the person standing in the doorway was not in fact Olivia even if they did share certain similarities.

"Who are you?" the young woman asked.

"Depends on who's asking," he answered, narrowing his eyes as he put the paper on the desk.

"I need to see the Professor." The girl ignored him. She certainly wasn't a student, she looked barely old enough to have finished high school. Sixteen…seventeen at most. But she dressed older.

Once again, he was struck by the resemblance to Olivia.

"She's in class," Killian answered shortly. "Do you want me to leave her a message?"

"No," the girl answered taking a quick glance around the room before saying, "I'll drop by tomorrow, Jones."

"Do you want me to tell her who dropped by?"

The girl shook her head, flashing him a dashing smile before walking out of the room, those green, almost grey eyes twinkling with a hidden mischief. She scampered out of the door in a childlike manner, her dark hair bouncing as she clicked down the hall.

Killian groaned at the mysterious nature of the new person. She was obviously a relation of Olivia's; apparently it was a family thing.

But then he stopped. And he stared at the empty doorway with his mouth dropping open.

How the fuck did she know his name?