'Caitlyn's' was a relaxed yet classy place that could only be described as Rose-esque. Unlike Candy's big freakout on her birthday, Rose was quite cheerful as Candy strolled up to greet her outside the restaurant.

"Well aren't you energetic this morning?" Rose teased. "I thought you had brunch everyday."

"Because I'm never up in time for breakfast," she mumbled. She had slept through her alarm clock and she was positive that the result of that was her looking like a hot mess. It had taken all of her concentration to actually walk in a straight line in her heels, something she could do blindfolded carrying a mountain of food at night time. A gargantuan amount of effort had gone into her makeup, and she was positive her liquid eyeliner was smudged. In her haste to arrive on time she'd thrown on the nearest necklace - which just so happened to be a three row - getting it caught in her hair, leaving pink threads in between the beads. To top it off, she had gulped down a cup of coffee on her way out, only to spill it down her dress (needless to say she thought it wise to wear a black one instead of purple).

Yep; a hot mess.

Rose, on the other hand resembled a poised, elegant, sophisticated adult in a short, vintage skater dress with a gold and black print. Her hair was in a simple updo, showing off her golden hoops. Teasingly, she folded her bare freckled arms and pretended to be cross with her weary demeanor, "Now is that any way to greet the birthday girl?"

"I'll greet you properly after two mo- no three more cups of coffee," she groaned. "Who gets up at this ungodly hour anyway?"

"Hello night owl, meet morning person."

"I don't like morning people."

"Well, you're stuck with me now," she giggled, and at the sound Candy couldn't help but smile.

"Well I'm not alone! Our other friends aren't here yet either!" she protested.

Rose sighed, "I just hope they haven't killed each other."

"Agreed," Candy nodded. "Oh!" her eyes widened as she remembered something. "I might as well give this to you now…" she pulled an unwrapped box out of her excessively large handbag. "For you."

Rose happily took the box off her and eagerly opened it, revealing an elegant necklace. She lifted it out of the box, a blush rising on her cheeks, "Wow! I love it! Thank you!"

"Rose quartz," Candy grinned shyly.

She giggled, beamed broadly, "Put it on!" She turned around, handing her the necklace.

Candy moved closer, brushing the stray strands of hair from her neck, inhaling Rose's honey shampoo and the smell of old books that seemed to cling to her. She gulped as she scolded herself: 'You have a girlfriend, you have a girlfriends, you have a girlfriend!'

Ten minutes later, the two were still alone and their other friends were nowhere in sight.

"What time is it? And by that mean how late are they? I need to know how much I should torture them before I kill them," she moaned.

"Torturing can wait until tomorrow," Rose demanded, reaching into the gold sequined flower by her side for her phone (if the sight of her carrying anything but a book bag wasn't enough). "They're only late by ten minutes. Surely Emma's not killed him…right?"

Abruptly perking up, she asked, "Who knows with those two. Do you know what's going on with them?"

"No, Killian's not said anything."

"How is he, by the way? Considering I don't see him anymore," she inquired.

A stand of hair fell into her blue eyes and Candy longed to push it back for her, "He's putting on brave face, though he's clearly not happy. I just wish I knew what happened - then I might be able to help."

"You grab one I grab the other?" she suggested.

"Huh?"

She moved to face her, "I grab Emma, you grab Killian, and we make them tell us. They can't say no because we'll just tell them that the other is probably spilling their guts."

She snorted, "That won't work."

"Emma may be good at catching bad guys but I can make anyone crack; I've been told I'm quite overwhelming."

She laughed again, "True."

Comfortable silence passed over them until after impatiently toying with her bracelet, Candy wondered, "Where the hell are they?"

Glaring at her wardrobe, Emma mentally chastised herself, 'It's Rose's birthday. I am dressing for a fancy brunch. I do not care what Killian Jones thinks. I will not dress for him. If I choose to wear something nice, it is because I want to and not because I give any shits about whether or not he is looking at me, and whether or not his jaw has dropped.'

Throwing aside another few dresses, Emma almost gave up and called Rose, claiming she was ill. However, she quickly shut that idea down when she knew it would just prompt Killian to come over and take care of her.

Her. Killian. Alone. In her apartment.

Nooooo. No. Nope. She can not go there. She can not ruin this friendship with a whirlwind relationship consisting of mostly sex that crashed and burnt out. Broken people, broken heart, broken relationships.

Deciding to go with her traditional 'Fuck it' attitude, she grabbed a lace blue dress with a high neckline that stopped just above her knees. As she wrapped a red belt around her waist she told herself: 'So what if I attract his attention? In the winter he stared at my ugly pajamas so it's not like he has high standards. If he stares, just ignore it. In fact; ignore him, period.'

Aware that she would neglect this piece of advice later but also aware of the time, Emma grabbed some heels and made towards the door. As she fastened her shoes her eye caught something on a chair; the reason she bought said shoes - to match it.

Her jacket.

Her armour.

Hastily deciding to fuck the sun outside, she jerked on her jacket and stormed out the door.

This was going to be a long day.

"Hello ladies," Killian greeted, smoothing down his navy shirt.

"Hey Jones," Candy nodded, "Long time no see. How've you been?"

"Do you care?"

"Not particularly; where's Emma? Did she chicken out? Tell me if she chickened out and I'll go and slap her."

"I don't know, Coccino, I haven't seen her this morning," he replied. Pulling Rose into a hug, he said, "Happy Birthday."

"Thanks, Killian," she patted his back. "I'm sure she'll come."

"Well, she does hate morni-"

"I TOLD YOU I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE!"

"Candy," Rose hissed, "this is a nice place, keep it down."

As Candy mumbled what may have been an apology, Rose sighed, "Should we go in now or wait out here?"

"I can wait."

"Are you wearing six and a half inch death traps on your feet?" Candy snapped. "No? Didn't think so. When you are then you can decide whether we sit down or not," she grabbed both his and Rose's arm, steering them towards the exit when a shout came from behind them.

"I'm here! Sorry," she jogged in her heels with practised ease, stopping to hug Rose and wish her happy birthday. "I was…curling my hair."

Her face was flushed red, - whether from running or her jacket or both - her curled hair was windswept and she was wearing minimal makeup: but it was his first proper good look at her in over a month and she looked nothing but beautiful.

It was only when she moved did he realise that Rose and Candy were already making their way inside. As Emma reached for the door he leaned over her, catching the door and holding it open, earning him a shy nod of thanks.

Emma Swan and shy; not two things he'd usually connect in his mind.

Surprisingly, conversation flowed easily and the feared awkwardness was absent. Rose and Candy were clearly taken aback by this, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't either. Everything was normal again. Well, it was for the most part.

They were well into their food and himself and Rose were conversing about the latest book she'd suggested (*cough* force him to *cough*) he read.

"Come on! Even you must have found that difficult to read!" Rose whined.

Grinning he shook his head, "You see, the doctors have said my mind is still very impressionable, so it makes sense that I can understand it, given the amount of classic books I read after I woke."

"You still go to a doctor? Since when?" Candy asked.

"Believe it or not I don't tell you lot everything, Coccino," he retorted. "And it's only once every six weeks - unless they're concerned about something."

"Amnesia aside; everyone has that one book that's too hard to read. I mean it's the gothic genre! It's complicated!" Rose interrupted and he chuckled shaking his head.

"You know what?" Candy piped back up, "I need to do a thing. Emma come with me."

"Huh? What?" the bewildered blonde asked.

Rose groaned, "Candy, you weren't serious, were you?"

"You bet your ass. Emma. Bathroom. Now," she tugged on her arm.

Quizzically, Killian turned to an exasperated Rose, "What was that about?"

"Candy's master plan," she muttered. "She's grilling Emma on what happened with you two."

"She thinks that'll work?" He raised a brow, "It's Emma."

"It's Candy," she replied, plainly.

"Fair enough," he conceded. "So what? Now you have to interrogate me?"

"Ding ding," she leant on the table and gave him her signature warm smile.

Although she claimed she would question him, she merely looked at him, patiently waiting, eyes swirling with understanding and curiosity. It was more powerful than any interrogation.

"Alright, fine! I'll tell you," he conceded.

A brief spark of victory flashed in her eyes before quickly scolded her expression, informing him she was listening. He sighed, instantly regretting a lot of things, "You remember Candy's birthday?"

"Went to a fancy restaurant for adults then went to Candy's flat to, how Emma put it, 'party like college students'," she recited.

"Aye, well," he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "you know how we had quite a bit to drink?"

Her face dropped, "Does this end well?"

He didn't answer, "You remember how I promised to buy Emma some dessert?" Rose merely stated cautiously at him, "Well everywhere was shut so she was pissed and in my drunken state I was…"

"An arse? A cocky little shit?"

"Let's go for an arse, shall we?"

"So what?" She flailed her arms in confusion, "You got into a fight? You two fight all the time; why did this one lead to you two not talking to each other for over a month?" She questioned. "You didn't insult The Princess Bride, did you?"

"Gods no!" he defended, feeling affronted. "No, we…" dear gods help him now "We slept together."

She froze. Killian silently studied her as her jaw gradually dropped. After a few moments she yelled, "I'm sorry, YOU WHAT?"

Many heads turned to them and Rose's cheeks tinged pink. "You what?" she hissed.

Deciding not to answer yet again, he continued, "We didn't speak for a week. I was trying to give her space but…" he shrugged, "I cracked. I texted her and we've been texting every night. Today is the first time we've talked since."

After blinking for a few seconds, Rose merely said, "Huh."

"Yeah, that's it."

"No I meant you won the bet," Rose quipped. "Please tell me you've not just given up on her."

"Of course not," he defended.

"Then ask her out!"

He sighed, "This is Emma we're talking about. If I ask her she'll pull away."

Rose nodded, "Like a wild animal; you've got to let her come to you."

"Funny," he deadpanned.

Rose rolled her eyes, "Killian, take it from someone who waited too long: tell her how you feel, alright? Because someday it'll be too late and you'll have wasted so much time worrying about scaring her off. And if anyone should know about wasting time it's you."

His brows shot up, "Me?"

She pushed back some stray strands of hair, "Killian, did you even think about who you were before your accident? You could've had dreams, ambition, hope for the future and all that disappeared instantly. So, yeah, you should know about wasted time: because now, all that time before your accident was wasted."

Killian swallowed and took a gulp of his drink. Rose was right: he should know about wasted time. But asking Emma out would inevitably lead to her running and therefore losing her friendship; something he could never cope with.

At his silence Rose smiled sympathetically, "She likes you, Killian. That's why she's scared. And with any luck Candy will be knocking that right out of her."

"Ow! Hey! What the hell?" Emma brushed CeCe off of her once they entered the bathroom.

CeCe ignored her, "Bitch, you're going to tell me right now 'what the hell' has been going on between you and Jones!"

Without hope, Emma decided to play dumb, "What makes you think anything has been going on?"

CeCe crossed her arms, glaring up at her, "Don't. Me and Rose have been talking and there is literally no point in pretending we don't see the yearning looks and doey eyes."

"I don't yearn," she protested abruptly.

CeCe scoffed, "Sure, tell that to your face this past half hour."

"I'm not leaving until I give you something am I?" Emma groaned.

CeCe shook her head, "And even if you don't Rose is out there grilling Killian as we speak."

Emma clenched her jaw, accepting defeat. She knows she's stubborn, but she's no match for Candice Coccino. Deciding not to drag it out she blurted, "I slept with him."

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish, but she recovered quickly, "Well, I wasn't expecting that." She blinked, clearly still processing, "Wh… when? Why?"

"Your birthday," Emma scrunched up her face, anticipating her reaction.

Seemingly regaining her grip on reality, CeCe jumped back into her usual self, spitting out questions a million mile a minute, "How was it? How many times? Who's apartment? Is he a cuddler? Who was on top? I need details, Swan!"

"It was…" Emma mulled over that night, "it's kinda been awkward ever since, you know with my tendency to ignore my problems."

"At least you admit it."

"About a week after we started texting back and forth," she drifted off, reminiscing about the past few weeks, "Just some dumb things about the tv shows we watch or what happened that day or which colleagues we'd like to kill."

"Tim?"

"Duh," she smiled fondly.

CeCe smirked, "You like him." Emma glanced at her, realising there'd be no point in protesting, "That's why you're so insistent on avoiding him. Emma Swan's scared off her ass because she likes a boy!" she teased.

"Ok, I get," Emma felt heat flood her cheeks.

CeCe chanted, "Scaredy cat, scaredy cat, don't know what you're looking at!"

"How old are you?"

"Seven."

"Add twenty."

CeCe sighed, "Emma, you can deny your feelings all you want. But you know what's going to happen? One day he's going to be sat at a bar, drinking that stupid rum of his, probably brooding over the fact that his hot neighbour is too busy letting her commitment issues stop her from having a relationship with him, and you know what's going to happen?"

Pushing down guilt and shame, she asked, "No, what?"

"A woman is going to stroll on over and start flirting with him. Now, unlike in the past where I've seen him reject these women, this time he's going to smirk, he's going to buy her a drink, he's going turn up the smoulder, he's going to flirt back," she paused, voice going soft, "Emma, sweetie he's going to move on."

"He's been rejecting women? Since when?" Shock washed over her. She'd always assumed that his flirtatious personality meant he'd gone home with lots of women; so surely it must just have been since they hooked up, right?

"Since I met him," CeCe stated plainly.

"But," Emma began to protest, bewildered, "but I used to see him arrive late home all the time!"

"He was probably working; I've never seen him go home with anyone," she gaped at her, baffled by her apparent ignorance. Supposedly satisfied, CeCe trotted back outside, leaving her to her thoughts.

'Well that's proven to be dangerous, hasn't it?'

Setting down her hair dryer, Emma let the thoughts that had consumed her that day take back over. Shockingly, things with Killian hadn't been too awkward, despite her catching him staring at her and the whole good cop scary cop thing with Rose and CeCe (where she got stuck with scary cop). Though the natural ease of their friendship returned, her thoughts were plagued by what CeCe said. She knew he would move on, and she tried to tell herself she was fine with that.

Yet the thought of him with another woman birthed a horrible burn of jealousy in her chest.

Get it together, Swan

Crawling into bed, Emma decided to be her typical self and push the problem off until tomorrow. Pulling up her covers, habit kicked in and she reached for her phone, thumb instantly going for her texts, and when she saw nothing, she knew she couldn't put off the feeling of her heart plummeting until tomorrow.

"Fuck it."

'THUNK!'

Another dart hit the target and his tongue poked out in concentration, his arm pushed by frustration to release another.

Despite how much he'd enjoyed today, he couldn't shake how right Rose had been: one day it would be too late.

Oh, how much easier this would be if she wasn't so bloody stubborn with her walls - why must he be so eager of a challenge? He so longed to ask her out, but he was even more afraid of scaring her off and losing her completely.

Continuing to take his anger out on the dartboard, he ignored the creaking sounds of someone in the corridor and opening a door, odd as it was for Mr. Wilkies to be up at this quiet hour and even stranger for Martha not to be asleep, the early bird she was.

So it was certainly a shock when he heard the siren's voice behind him:

"I'm here to ask you out."

A/N: If anyone's interested, I made outfits for the girls: roses_birthday/collection?id=5670709

This chapter was a pain in the ass. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it more then I enjoyed writing it.

Also, if my plan doesn't change, we're about halfway through this story!