With a manner as cool as the burgeoning autumn winds, Cora Mills steps into the apartment, her eyes scanning around every visible surface as Emma straightened out her sweats and stood to greet her. Ms. Mills was wrapped in a tan trench coat, cinched in at the waist and turned up slightly at the collar. Her dark auburn hair was swept up in a polished updo that coordinated perfectly with her immaculate make up and blood red lips.

Emma immediately felt intimidated.

"Good morning, Ma'am, I'm Emma."

"Emma," she repeated, a guarded expression on her face as she held out her hand, "A pleasure to finally meet you."

"And you," Emma lied, a lump of fear in her throat.

"Tea?" Killian asked from the other side of their investigator.

Cora shook her head, "Oh, I must decline. I have an appointment at 8am uptown. I merely wanted to make your acquaintance and to schedule our first meeting. I like to do these things face to face. More personal that way." She smiled cooly, a perfect row of pearly white teeth on show.

"Oh," Emma replied, rubbing at the back of her head with her hand, something she noticed Killian did when he was nervous. "Umm…"

"Anytime," Killian interjected, a pained grin pulling at his cheeks, "Emma and I are very keen to get this process going." As he spoke he had recrossed the living room floor, quickly finding a place at her side, his arm wrapping possessively around her waist.

"Well, that's wonderful, let me see…" while Cora opened up her purse, Killian's hand shifted to hold Emma a little tighter, one single finger finding the bare patch of skin between her pants and sweater. A shiver clenched her spine, their brief kiss of only a few minutes earlier fresh on her mind.

"So," the older woman began, a small tablet computer in her hand. "I actually have a cancellation tomorrow at four. Otherwise, it will be about a two week wait before I can schedule you in."

"Tomorrow's perfect!" Emma chirped, snuggling into the side of Killian's body, in a manner she assumed looked 'in love'. "That's okay, honey?"

Beside her, Killian faltered, hesitating for a second before he seemed to catch himself. "Yes, great. My last class is at two."

"Wonderful, I will pencil you in."

As Cora tapped away, Emma could feel the heat of her body rising to inferno-like temperatures. Surely, beads of nervous sweat would soon start to roll down her face-

"Well, that's settled," Cora announced, returning the tablet to her purse. "Please bring with you all your documents and a list of at least four references I will be able to contact for verification." She stepped forward producing a small, white business card. "This is the address. Try and arrive a little early so my secretary can get you to complete some paperwork."

"Will do," Emma chirped, mentally begging for this moment to be over so she could finally breathe again. She took the business card from the other woman's grasp before Killian led her back to the door. The small piece of card felt heavy and dangerous between her fingers, the simple black typeface giving her a menacing look as she placed it on the table.

/

A breath he did not know he was holding came gushing out as the door clicked closed. Across the room, Emma slumped into a pile on the couch, clearly overtaken by the same affliction he was: relief.

"Shit," Emma panted, her hands coming up to run through her hair. "Holy fuck."

Killian lay back against the door, a relieved smile on his lips. "We did it. She seemed to buy it."

"Yeah, for like five minutes," Emma quipped, unfurling her body against the back of the couch.

"Still…" he began, walking closer to her.

When he was within a few feet of where she sat, he saw her visibly recoil, her legs pulling up underneath herself. He paused mid-step.

That's when the memory hit: as his bare foot hovered an inch above the floor.

Her soft eyes, his heart beat slowing, the magnetic pull of her lips-

Bloody hell, he thought, feeling his gut tighten. Cora's sudden appearance had briefly made him forget their interrupted kiss. Now though, his lips tingled and the hair on the back of his neck stood up as he remembered-

As he hesitated, Emma looked away, her fingers playing with the hem of her sweater.

"It's a start," he finished slowly, frowning at her sudden change in demeanor.

What was she thinking? Did she regret it? God, did she blame him-

There wasn't time to ask, as she was up and heading for the bedroom before he had time to gather his thoughts. "I have an early start, okay if I shower first?"

He could tell she was trying to sound breezy and light, but he already recognized the low, gravelly undercurrent that signaled her mind was preoccupied. He was starting to learn a lot about how Emma Swan ticked.

He didn't have time to reply before she was out of the room, the door closed firmly behind her with a heavy thud. Stumbling to the couch, he sat, the cushions still warm from her presence. There was far too much to process.

They'd kissed. Not for show, not for a photo or to convince someone that this marriage was real-

So why? Scratching at his light beard he tried to stop himself mentally answering the question. More concerning at this moment was Emma's reaction. As much as he had kissed her, she had kissed him back. Their easy banter and teasing (flirting…) drawing them towards each other with an inevitability which made him wonder how he had never seen it before now.

He was left with two questions: what had happened to Emma to make her react this way and, more urgently, how was their kiss going to change things between them?

/

"So…" Belle teased, grinning, "How do you like the apartment?"

"Hmm?" Emma frowned, looking up from her cinnamon topped cocoa.

Widening her eyes, Belle nudged her friend across the table. "You know - the redecoration! I thought it was a really sweet idea."

"Hmm, yeah," Emma mumbled into her mug, still frowning. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

"Something wrong?"

Emma curled her shoulders forward, cupping the hot beverage with both hands, pulling it close like a security blanket.

"Emma?"

"I'm fine," she lied, waiting a second before adding, "I'm just tired."

Nodding, Belle gave Emma a suspicious look. Damn, she was persistent. After avoiding close friends for most of her adult life, she had forgotten what it was like to have someone who cared. And was very annoying about it. "And, yeah," she continued, clearing her throat, "It was cool."

Belle was quiet for a moment as the waitress brought over their orders of a grilled cheese for Emma and chicken soup for her.

Emma reached for her sandwich, scowling when the hot bread burned her fingers, quickly blowing on the singed skin.

"And does it feel more like home now?"

Shrugging, Emma mumbled, "I guess," whilst pressing her stinging fingers against the cool silverware on the table in front of her.

Belle took a sip of her soup.

"Well, it is home for a while so I guess you'd better try and settle in."

Emma shrugged again before attempting another bite of her sandwich. She worked quickly, her teeth snipping off a piece and quickly chewing it before the boiling cheese could burn her tongue.

"Emma. I know something is wrong."

Emma lifted her head and gave Belle a pointed look.

"And you know you can tell me anything…"

Taking another bite, Emma chided herself. She should have been more guarded around Belle… She could only blame her crappy morning tracking down yet more fruitless leads. She had far too much on her mind at the moment.

"Fine," she grumbled, "This morning Killian kissed me. Or maybe I kissed him. I'm not exactly sure-"

"Really!?" Belle blurted out, her eyes wide and full of surprise.

"Yeah… I mean it was only for a second, but-"

"That's so exciting!" Belle chirped, dropping her spoon into her soup with a loud plop, "And then what happened, what did he say-"

"Our investigator arrived and that kinda ended the moment. Not that it was a moment exactly…" she insisted, gesturing wildly with her hands.

Belle nodded, smiling gently, "But you enjoyed it?"

A ringing in her ears was the indication that she was beginning to panic. Not a panic attack, she'd never actually had one of those. It was more of a low level buzzing sound accompanied by a heightened heart rate - her body's reaction to uncomfortable situations.

"What does it matter? All that it's done has made things awkward. And with the interview coming up it's the worst goddamn timing-"

"Wait - what does this have to be a bad thing? It's kind of perfect if you think about it-"

"Seriously, Belle?" Emma screeched before quickly lowering her tone as she noticed a few heads in the diner turning their direction. "This is business, and it has to stay that way." She chewed on her lip for a moment, before continuing, "And besides, you know I don't - I mean can't be - we can't be anything more. You know I don't do relationships, so that only leaves the physical between us and letting that happen would be a terrible idea."

Belle opened her mouth to protest but Emma stared her down until the brunette looked away and picked her spoon back up.

"Well then maybe you should talk about it? You know, clear the air?"

"Maybe," Emma grumbled, stuffing another piece of grilled cheese in her mouth and trying to pretend that Belle wasn't right, however much she didn't want to admit that her friend was right on point.

/

As it turned out the kiss had changed nothing. Or at least that was what it would seem to the casual observer.

That evening, Emma returned from work tired but lacking the wide eyed look of panic she had worn earlier. They ate dinner together, quizzing one another on details from the index cards they had earlier prepared, the atmosphere surprisingly light. It was easy to think that maybe he had imagined the kiss.

So he put his earlier worries aside.

But he couldn't stop his eyes from wandering to her lips as she talked, or his hands from remembering the feel of her skin under his fingertips that morning. It was a strange and almost foreign feeling- the wanting, that is. He'd gone through life for so long with blinders on, staring ahead. Not looking. Not seeking. And it wasn't as if he had sought her out. She'd stumbled into his life.

That night he had taken the couch, pushing away her protestations that it was her turn and ordering her into the king sized bed with the memory foam mattress that he had treated himself to on his last birthday. Resting his legs on the end of the couch, he shifted against the too firm seat. If things were different, he may have asked if he could have shared the bed that night. It was big enough. But now it seemed that they were dancing on a dangerous knife edge of attraction that with one push in the wrong direction, could leave their arrangement crashing down around them.

Tired, he tugged the blanket tighter around his body and willed himself to see the end goal of their situation. He gets to stay in the city he loves. She gets to open her own business. They go their separate ways and that will be the end of that.

As he drifted to sleep though, he felt a twinge of sadness that they could never be anything more to each other.

/

Leaving work after yet another frustrating day of dead end leads, Emma raced back to the apartment. Clearly her work uniform of jeans and boots wasn't exactly going to make the right impression on the immaculately groomed Cora Mills.

Frustrated and tired, she tugged item after item out of her space in the closet (trying to ignore the scent of his cologne that seemed to linger inside it). She was tired and grumpy and just wanted this whole day to be over with.

Last night she'd choked. She really had meant to clear the air with Killian. Really. Instead she chose the coward's route and avoided any chance of the topic of their kiss coming up behind a sudden, intense desire to revise every fact she had learned about him. And to be fair, he didn't mention it either.

Going to bed that night had been a relief, not that she slept much.

Instead of dreams, she found herself reliving the kiss. Sometimes - she imagined a different ending. One where Cora didn't turn up, where his hands had slipped under her sweater and he had laid her back against the couch-

She'd snapped awake at that point: she was not going to have sex dreams about Killian Jones.

Finally choosing a blue shirt dress she hadn't worn in years, she left the apartment. She was almost late. It turned out getting a cab from Killian's neighborhood wasn't exactly easy. With minutes to spare, she arrived in Hell's Kitchen, dashing up the steps of the anonymous office building, searching for the elevators and stilling her nerves by counting the clack-clack sounds her heels made as she rushed to the correct office.

Killian was already there (of course) in his usual work attire of shirt and jacket, today both in unfair shades of blue that made his eyes pop and a blush appear on her cheeks before she had even said hello.

It turns out, she didn't even get that chance.

"Mr. and Mrs. Jones," came the clipped tones of Ms. Mills voice from behind them. "Would you like to come in?"

The deep thudding of her heartbeat and sickening twist of her stomach had Emma worrying for a moment that she would pass out. And she had never passed out (or fainted or swooned or whatever you wanted to call it). Today did not seem like a good day to begin. She must have been frozen for a second because the next thing she felt was Killian's hand slipping around hers.

"Let's go, love," he whispered.

Tilting her head, she gave Killian a quick glance, thanking him with a smile. He responded with a squeeze of her fingers. It was strangely reassuring.

Her hesitation forgotten, she followed him into the office.

/

She'd arrived with seconds to spare. He'd worried (briefly) that maybe she wasn't going to show. He knew she was capable of that. But he'd hoped that her predilection to fleeing wouldn't rear its head today.

Breezing in wearing a navy blue shirt dress and tan pumps, she'd seemed startled to see him. There wasn't time for small talk though, as within seconds their investigator appeared and they were heading into her office, hand in hand, admittedly more than a little nervous.

The office was clean and modern (well, as modern as a government organization allows). A few well-tended plants sat on the window sill behind the desk, each surface was clean and neat; polished to a high shine.

"Well," Ms. Mills began as they sat, "As you know, this is preliminary meeting to let you know how things will progress over the coming weeks. Do you have your paperwork?"

Reaching into his satchel - the one Will liked to take the piss out of him for carrying - he pulled out a plain manila folder.

"Wonderful," Cora smiled, "I will get these back to you as soon as possible." Putting the folder to one side, she interlinked her fingers on the desk and fixed the pair with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "So I suppose you are wondering how this process will work. Well, I am here to make this as easy as possible. As part of our random sampling, we have no suspicions as to your status. So please, see this as a simple bureaucratic measure, and with your cooperation things will be concluded as speedily as possible."

He felt a squeeze on his fingers. He hadn't realized he was still holding Emma's hand.

"What happens next?" Emma asked in a small, soft and unfamiliar voice.

"Today, I have a few initial questions. Then I check over your paperwork, make a few enquiries and schedule one or two further interviews depending on my findings."

"That's it?" Killian asked, surprised, expecting more - though he knew not what.

"Well Mr. Jones, we consider this a supportive process. Though, of course, you are subject to the possibility that we may visit your home or places of work at any time."

"Well, that's very reasonable, Miss Mills," Emma said next to him, "We are happy to cooperate in any way."

"Excellent," Cora replied, opening a drawer in her desk, "Well, how about we start with a few questions?"

Killian shifted in his seat, his back straightening.

Cora picked up a pen and clicked the end. In front of her was a sheet of paper with a typed list of questions.

"So, how did you two meet?"

They both looked at each other. Emma bit her lip, invisibly signaling that he should take this.

"Mutual friends set us up. Emma's friend Belle works at the University library and is dating a friend of mine. And the two of them like to play matchmaker."

"Hmm," Cora replied, scribbling down a few notes. "So what was the occasion when you physically met each other?"

Emma leant forward, clearly ready to take this one. "Well, it was Belle's birthday and she had a gathering at her apartment."

"And Will - her partner - was insistent that I meet this girl called Emma. Said we would get along very well."

And that was actually true. Before the party Will had told him about Emma. Had said she was just his type (though how Will could know his type was beyond him). And he had reminded the Yorkshireman that he didn't date - and the idea of a one night affair with a friend of Belle's seemed like a bad idea.

"And how did that go?" Cora continued.

Killian fidgeted uncomfortably. Should he be honest, or-

"Well, I was drunk-" Emma blurted out with a tiny laugh, "So let's just say romance didn't blossom quite that night. But I did notice him. We talked - briefly - but I'd drank too much tequila and was a little concerned that I would throw up on his shoes so I kinda hid from him-"

"You never told me that?" he said, surprised at her confession before kicking himself as he remembered its context-

Emma looked his way, shrugging a little. At some point she had released his hand without him realizing. She tucked her hands around her sides. "You were gorgeous and I didn't want you to think I was an idiot."

"I could never think that, Emma," he replied automatically.

She smiled. Little and warm - the kind that made him feel happy and content and-

"And I take it a date was arranged in some other way?"

Killian pulled his eyes away from her, "Yes, Belle worked her magic and this wonderful woman agreed to meet me for a drink. I too, had been all too aware of her presence at the party and though she tried to avoid me-" he gave her a quick wink- "We did exchange enough words for me to know I wanted to know more."

Cora's pen scratched against the paper for a few seconds. Killian swallowed heavily.

"So - how did you decide to get married?"

"Well…" Emma began.

"I couldn't imagine life without her. We've both been in relationships before - long ones - and never have I felt for anyone else what I feel for Emma. I'd say it was only weeks before I knew I couldn't spend my life without her."

Emma reached and grasped his hand again.
"Perhaps people will call us rash and foolish - but when you know, you know."

"And your families reaction to your short courtship?"

"Well, you see that's something Killian and I have in common," Emma sighed, "Neither of us have any close family to speak of. Well, except each other."

Killian reached across and wrapped his free arm around her shoulder. Damn, they were doing a good job if he did say so himself.

"And your friends?"

"Thrilled," Killian quipped with a chuckle, "I was the definition of confirmed bachelor and they saw it was some kind of victory that they had introduced me to the woman of my dreams."

Emma's head nestled against his shoulder as she spoke. She'd slid her chair a little closer to his.

Scratch scratch scratch. He waited for Ms. Mills to stop writing.

"Well," she finally said, placing her pen down, "I think that's it for the preliminary questions. I'll need to spend at least a couple of weeks checking your paperwork and then I'll be in touch with the next step - though, remember, an inspection visit can happen at any time."

"Of course," Emma quipped, sitting up in her seat."We look forward to hearing from you soon, Ms. Mills. Be sure to contact me if you need any further information."

Pushing back her chair, Cora stood. "I will be certain to do that. Mr. Jones, Mrs. Jones, thank you very much for your time."

And with a curt hand shake, they were leaving the office.

/

They standing on the sidewalk only a few minutes later. The stiffness that Emma had held in her shoulder throughout the meeting dissolved in a peal of light laughter. "That was…"

"Not so bad!" Killian finished, reaching to hail a cab. "I think we nailed it."

"Yeah, we did didn't we?"

The sun was just peeking out from the late afternoon cloud. Emma looked at Killian as he scanned the road for the yellow livery of the city's famous cabs. They'd survived the first hurdle. It had been surprisingly easy. The stories they told flowed easily from her lips - simple modifications of the facts.

She'd never tell him, of course, that she was attracted to him from the start. Just like she'd never reveal the attraction had now grown to the point of being at times distracting.

(Like now, when the sun shone and highlighted his handsome profile and kind smile-)

He too had done well- how he talked about her! Damn, she could almost imagine it was true and that this was real…

But that was never going to happen she reminded herself as they finally found a cab.

She'd be lying if that didn't hurt just a little.

A/N: Thank you again for all your feedback! It really means the world to me!

Lots more exciting things to come, thank you for reading!