Authors Note: I love how many of you love this story and I am so grateful for all the support. While I have enjoyed bouncing around in time my current plan is to write the next couple chapters in chronological order so this will have some semblance of an "ending". Given my love for this story I am likely to eventually write all the missing scenes too but for the next little while it will be chronological. Thanks again for your reviews, follows and favorites! I hope you enjoy this chapter. It takes place during episode 1.19 "The Return" and immediately follows chapter 9.

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A few months ago Emma couldn't have imagined having an impromptu girls night on a weekday with a very broken hearted roommate, who she loved like a sister, but her life had never turned out how she imagined. When Mary-Margaret had walked into the loft that evening with tears on her face Emma had wordlessly pulled out the scotch and poured her a glass. The school teacher was no longer in jail or a murder suspect but that was little comfort when she still had the carnage of what had happened with David to deal with. Emma was trying to help her pick up the pieces and hoped she was doing a good job. Being so close to another person was strange enough, but being her support, the one to comfort and give advice, was even stranger. While offering the booze she also offered to punch David in the face. Mary-Margaret had accepted the drink but declined the physical assault–but only after a long moment of thought. A few drinks in her roommate tired of talking about her love life and decided to grill Emma about hers.

"What is going on with you and James?"

Emma poured them both another drink and tried to sound nonchalant. "There is no me and James."

Mary-Margaret grinned and swirled the amber liquid in her class. "Hmm–"

Emma downed her own glass quickly, ignoring the burn and her roommate's teasing look.

"So when he followed you out into the hall last night it was just to discuss your overdue books?"

Emma flushed. "We talked about how it would be better if we were just friends."

Mary-Margaret's face fell. "Oh, Emma."

Sensing a speech about her walls and the importance of letting people in, which she was not drunk enough to hear, Emma interrupted.

"And then I may have kissed him."

She took another drink and then licked her lips as her mind flashed to the wild abandon of his kiss. She had kissed him thinking she could prove that they weren't compatible and just get it out of her system. She wasn't sure what she had expected but shy, sweet, librarians were not supposed to kiss like that but then she was beginning to suspect that James was much more than a shy, sweet, librarian.

Mary-Margaret's giggling pulled her from her recollection.

"That good huh?"

Emma smiled and nodded. They laughed and then Mary-Margaret's broad, congratulatory grin fell and she stared into her glass. Emma wondered what part of her time with David she was remembering. Suddenly she stood almost knocking the chair over.

"Do you want cookies? I want cookies."

Before Emma could respond she was bustling to the kitchen wiping her eyes surreptitiously as she went. Emma hadn't meant to make it worse by being happy but somehow she knew that's exactly what she had done. And Mary-Margaret, ever the good person, didn't want Emma to feel guilty for being happy.

"Cookies sound great." Emma picked up the almost empty bottle. "How about I go get a refill?"

"Great." Came the overly-cheerful response as Mary-Margaret turned to the fridge.

Emma shrugged into her coat wishing she could say something to make it better but knowing from experience that some things would always hurt.

Emma stepped out of the brightly lit liquor store with her scotch in a brown paper sack. She gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the dark night. Storybrooke, even with street lights, was always darker and more empty than she expected. She pulled down her beanie against the cold and headed towards the apartment. Her steps took her past the library and she looked again at James's window. The light was still on. She wondered if he was still awake or if he had fallen asleep reading. She contemplated throwing some pebbles at his window and then shook the idea off. Was she a lovesick teenager now? Or was she drunker than she thought?

It wasn't just the kiss or the alcohol. Emma really liked James and knowing how much he cared for her was a little bit empowering (and a lot scary). Especially since they hadn't really discussed exactly what they were now that they had admitted to being frightened of commitment and shared a mind-blowing kiss. Not that Emma was eager for that particular discussion but she knew it was coming; knew the only reason they hadn't had it at lunch that afternoon was because Henry had been there watching both of them with a strange, knowing look. Despite her feelings she still wasn't sure that a relationship with James would work; they were two very different people.

"Emma?"

She started and turned to see James standing five feet away in a puddle of yellow light. He was wearing his peacoat, beanie, and what looked like sweatpants.

"Oh. Hey." She wondered what the hell he was doing up (and in sweatpants) and how long he had been watching her.

He grinned, a wide smile that lit up his entire face, and moved towards her. "Did you need something, love? Or do you usually stand outside my window late at night with a look of yearning?"

She snorted. "I wasn't! I don't yearn."

He quirked an eyebrow but didn't push her further; his flirting confidence draining from him as quickly as it came. He gestured to her sack."Run dry at home?"

"Oh. Yeah. Mary-Margaret."

"Ah." He nodded. "How is she?"

Emma sighed. "Honestly? Heartbroken. David ran into her tonight and tried to get her to forgive him. He wanted another chance." She couldn't keep the bitterness from her voice.

"What did she say?"

"Seriously? She told him to get lost and I don't blame her. After the shit he pulled?"

James frowned. "So you don't believe in second chances?"

There was something fragile in his tone a vulnerability that confused Emma and made her pause before answering.

"Of course I believe in second chances. I am a walking poster child for second chances. But that's not what this is about. David didn't trust her. He said he loved her but when it really came down to it he didn't stick it out."

"He had some valid reasons."

Emma couldn't understand why James was defending David. Did they become friends when she wasn't looking?

"So? I didn't give up on her. You didn't give up on her. How can David say he truly loves her after everything he has put her through? He lied to her about leaving Kathryn, he broke her heart, then when she needed him most he abandoned her in jail." Her voice was rising but she didn't care. "It doesn't matter how he felt because he left. His love wasn't enough and when she needed him most he abandoned her." Emma took a deep breath and blinked rapidly, keeping the tears at bay as anger coursed through her. She bit back the words that she wasn't drunk enough to say. That this was about more than just David hurting Mary-Margaret. It was about all the people in Emma's life–her parents, the Swan's, Lily, Ingrid, Neal–that hadn't loved her enough to fight for her.

Wordlessly James closed the gap between them and enveloped her in a hug. She sagged against him and buried her face in his shoulder; he smelled almost like the ocean. For a long moment he just held her and she felt her heartbeat steady, keeping time with his.

"I don't want to hurt you, Emma." He whispered into her hair so quiet she was sure he hadn't meant for her to hear. She wanted to tell him that he wouldn't hurt her, that she trusted him, but she couldn't. Despite his steadiness, their friendship and the way she felt about him Emma wasn't sure. She didn't think she could ever be completely sure about another person; she would always be waiting for the moment when they decided she wasn't worth the bother. So she ignored his words and a few moments later she pulled away–stepping out of his arms but remaining close.

"You smell different. Have you been down at the docks?"

"I have. I couldn't sleep. I-" his eyes flitted down and then back up, "I've been having these dreams."

Emma tilted her head. He sounded serious, even for James. "Oh."

"Yes. They're really vivid and in them I wear leather and I am a captain of an old sailing ship."

Emma chuckled at the image and he gave her a half smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"I know it sounds a bit ridiculous."

"Dreams don't make sense. I sometimes dream I can fly."

"This is a bit different. You see–"

Emma's phone rang and she checked the screen. It was Mary-Margaret probably calling about the cookies being done. She clicked it to silent and put it back in her pocket.

"Sorry. You were saying."

He shook his head quickly. "Nothing. It was nothing. You should go back to Mary-Margaret."

A twinge in her gut told her he was lying but she pushed it aside.

"Okay. I'll see you at lunch tomorrow?"

He nodded. "Of course."

Emma can't help but smile at the way he said it. Like there was no question that he would meet her, like their lunch was automatic (she doesn't think about how it hadn't been the last few days as he had avoided her). It felt strange to just walk away so she stepped forward and then, second guessing herself, backward. He stepped forward just as she stepped back and they both laugh at their own awkwardness. James broke the stalemate by leaning forward and planting a quick kiss on her cheek. He pulled back with a shy smile.

"Goodnight, Emma."

"Goodnight."

Emma turned and walked away and when she looked back he was still watching her.

She doesn't tell Mary-Margaret about running into him. The cookies were chocolate chip and delicious but a bit salty.

-/-

As the cell door slammed shut on Sidney Glass Emma gave him a long look.

"I'm going to go process this." She waved his signed confession and the tape of their conversation. "Last chance to let Regina take responsibility for her actions."

Sidney lifted his chin a little higher. "You mean my actions."

She sighed and turned away. She had been angry at Sidney before but now she only felt pity. It was so clear that Regina had coached his confession, and that he saw himself as some sort of martyr to protect the woman he loved. No, she wasn't mad at him. Regina was the one to blame. It was Regina she hated and Regina who she would make pay for all the pain she had caused, to Mary-Margaret, to Henry, and even to Sidney.

At least that was the threat Emma had leveled at the mayor but she hadn't actually come up with a plan of action yet. She sank into her desk chair and punched the power button on her ancient computer. As she waited for it to boot up her stomach growled and she checked the clock. Shocked at how much time had passed and annoyed that she had missed lunch with James.

She sighed, picked up her cell, and dialed Granny's to-go number. As it rang she spun in her chair and caught sight of James entering the station. He was wearing dark dress pants and a dark blue shirt unbuttoned at the collar. She liked the look on him, it was so different from the tweed blazers and bowties he usually wore. He smiled at her and lifted a white paper sack. She smiled back and hung up the phone.

"I thought I would bring the mountain to Mohammed," he said as he placed the sack on her desk.

"Am I supposed to know what that means?" She asked before opening the bag and fishing out her onion rings and grilled cheese–she was not at all surprised that he had gotten her order correct. He half-sat, half-leaned against her desk.

"It's from Sir Francis Bacon 'if the mountain won't come to Mohammed then Mohammed must go to the mountain'. Some actually think he stole it from a Turkish proverb its supposed to mean–" He trailed off as he saw her smirk.

"Don't stop. I like when you talk nerdy." She popped an onion ring in her mouth. He flushed a little but she couldn't tell if it was from pleasure or embarrassment. "Go on tell me what it means." Emma looked at him expectantly. He looked down at his hand fiddling with his prosthetic and then he met her eye.

"It means that sometimes there are things you can't control and no matter how much you wish things were different you eventually have to bow to the inevitable." His voice was low and a bit too intense. His mood had shifted so quickly it left her head spinning. He had been doing that a lot lately ever since he had washed up on the beach.

"That's sounds rather depressing. I don't like to think that anything is inevitable." She nudged his feet playfully with hers.

He gave her a ghost of a smile. "You don't believe in fate or destiny?"

She shrugged. "When I was a kid sometimes I thought maybe fate had it in for me, but these days I say screw fate. Push back and make your own destiny."

His smile came alive and she felt a swelling of pride that she had cheered him up. "Quite passionate, Swan."

"Yeah, well." She gestured to Sidney in his cell "I've had a few things to get passionate about today." James twisted to look at Sidney and then turned back to Emma with a raised eyebrow. Emma stood and shut the door so Sidney wouldn't hear. Then she crossed her arms and took a deep breath. "Regina brought him in so he could confess to kidnapping Kathryn."

"He kidnapped her?" Emma was happy to hear the incredulous tone in his voice.

"That's what his confession says but he is just covering for Regina. He is in love with her and she manipulated him into taking the fall." She sighed and moved toward the desk. "I don't believe any of it and I made sure Regina knew I wasn't going to let her get away with it."

"How exactly did you do that?" He asked slowly, disapprovingly.

Emma bristled. How had she forgotten his abhorrence for challenging the Mayor or confrontation in general? When she had cut down that stupid tree limb he had read her the riot act.

"I took her out into the hall and told her she was a psycho and that I was taking my son back." Emma stood defiantly, just as defiant as she had been to Regina only hours before. She waited for his lecture; for him to tell her he wasn't going to support her in this fight. Whatever he felt for her it wasn't enough to change who he was at his heart; a man that didn't fight back, a man that followed the rules. She had forgotten that basic fact in all the excitement of the kiss. The realization that they could never really be together was crashing in on her now; they were just too different.

The lecture didn't come right away. He pursed his lips and crumpled his forehead, no doubt trying to find a nice way to tell her just how wrong and stupid she was being. But Emma knew there was no nice way for this to end and she wasn't going to wait for him to pass judgment on her. She moved in front of him and placed her hands on her hips.

"I'm not backing down from this. You can't stop me."

"Swan, I have no intention of stopping you."

Emma opened her mouth and then paused. Her argument died on her lips as she realized what he had said. "Wait. You don't?"

"Regina shouldn't have custody of Henry. She is dangerous. And we should do whatever it takes to keep him safe." There was a new intensity to his voice and a spark in his eyes. A flood of warmth that was more than just relief flooded through her.

"We?" She asked.

He nodded. "Whatever you want to do, Emma, I am with you. I give you my word."

Tears sprang to her eyes and Emma found herself stepping closer, sliding her hand behind his neck, and pulling him into a kiss. It was soft and sweet and more like what she had imagined kissing James would be like–solid, steady and comforting. When they pulled away she leaned her forehead against his. She couldn't fully express just what his decision and his words meant.

"Thank you," she said.

He smiled and she could almost feel it on her own lips. "You're welcome." His eyes, still so close, turned serious "We will need to be careful and smart. She won't go down without a fight."

"I know."

"And after we get Henry safe we should talk."

Emma nodded–less scared of having the talk with him then she had been the night before.

"I really should get going," he said even as he swayed a bit closer to her.

"Hmm. Those books won't shelve themselves."

He grinned and then, as if he couldn't help himself, he kissed her again, quick and soft. Reluctantly Emma stepped back and he walked toward the door. Then he paused and turned with an almost goofy smile on his face.

"Don't worry, Emma, we'll make our own destiny."

She rolled her eyes but grinned back all the same. As she watched him leave she felt a strange sense of peace replace the agitation that had plagued her all morning. James was on her side. Against all odds and probably against his own better judgment he was going to help her get Henry back. He was with her. When it came down to it he trusted her; he had chosen her.