I feel a bit guilty here. First this is one of the shorter chapters. Second there is a bit of cliffhanger. And third I'm sick so I might not have an update for a day or so. Who knows? Maybe I'll feel better after a nap and can write more.

"You're going to a lot of trouble, love," Killian said to Elsa as she shooed him out the door. "I don't mind it, but what's your fascination with our date?"

Elsa jutted her chin out with a defiant look on her face. "Emma is my best friend in this realm," she told him. "Almost like a sister to me. I want to see her happy."

"And pizza and Netflix isn't special," Killian answered, running his hand through his hair. "I understand, but shouldn't you be more concerned with your own social life?" He smirked at her flustered hand waving.

"I'm a busy woman," she said. "I'm trying to do something pleasant and lovely for my roommates and you have become incredibly suspicious."

Killian held the door open with his foot, eyeing the woman carefully. "I am appreciative," he said. "And I'm sure Emma will be as well. By the way, that's an attractive wardrobe change for you."

"Thank you," she said, offering him a bit of a curtsey as a mocking gesture. "You had a point a few weeks ago that if we are to fit in with the good people of Storybrooke that perhaps we have to adapt to their customs and fashions. Now go. Being tardy for your date takes a bit of the romance out of it."

***AAA***

Emma grimaced as her mother brushed her hair, realizing that the more her mother talked and interacted the more distracted she became. That meant the less she concentrated on Emma's hair and the more it hurt as she ran the black bristles through Emma's blonde hair.

"Where's he taking you?" Mary Margaret asked, her girlishness on overdrive. "I bet it'll be…"

"I don't know, Mom," Emma announced, tentatively touching her scalp. "Wherever it is, I would prefer to have hair so can we be a little gentler?"

Mary Margaret smiled in the mirror apologetically. "Sorry," she said. "I just get excited about this kind of thing."

Rolling her eyes, Emma handed her mother the gold clip that she had chosen. "I get that," Emma said with a short laugh. "But it's just us going to dinner. I wanted to look nice, but we're not talking anything major here. It's dinner with a guy I happen to be living with now."

"It's a date," Mary Margaret said. "That's a romantic thing if you're living together or been married 50 years. He's taking you someplace to enjoy your company. That's pretty sweet." Taking her hand away from her daughter's hair for a moment, the brunette picked a bit of fuzz off her sweater. "Take some advice from your mother. Don't ignore gestures like a date or a dinner alone from a man you love. Life with your true love is special and incredible in its own way. But sometimes life gets in the way and those sweet moments fall to the side. The candlelit dinners are replaced by potlucks or take out from Granny's. Dances under the stars are replaced by…"

"No offense, but this is highly depressing," Emma said with a laugh. "I'm aware that life isn't always romantic and sweet. You and Dad have both managed to teach me that in the time we've been back together. So I have no illusions about this."

"That's a good thing," Mary Margret commented, pulling a few more strands of hair into the clip. "I wonder where you got all this blonde hair sometimes. Your father was never this light headed and I certainly wasn't."

***AAA***

"I know you hate being the center of attention," David told his daughter when he got back home. "You are likely to throw your neck out of alignment if you roll your eyes anymore."

Emma laughed a little, smoothing out the emerald green dress that she had bought reluctantly at Elsa's urging. It was not as feminine as what she had worn on their first date, nor was it as sleek as some of her other date night outfits of the past. Its A-line fit was nothing new, but it flattered her with the way it hit just above her knees and was accented with a tiny gold belt.

"You look beautiful," David told her, kissing her forehead softly. "I'm only sorry that if he doesn't hurry up and arrive, I'm going to miss another chance to give my protective dad speech."

"David," Mary Margaret said warningly. "She's not a little girl."

"It's fine," Emma said. "At least Mom's cooled it with the paparazzi routine. I do wonder what's up with Elsa though. Why would she need the apartment?" Emma smiled as she glanced at her phone, reading the message from Elsa about the selfie she had sent and then another asking her to send one of her and Killian when he arrived.

"David, we should get going," Mary Margaret said, checking the diaper bag one more time. "Aurora said she would have dinner on the table soon."

***AAA***

Killian backed out of the door of the flower shop, clutching the single red rose in his hand and nodding to the proprietor with a courteous smile. His steps were light as he walked down the block and mentally went through the check list for their date, laughing internally at Elsa's insistence that he make it special and romantic. The woman had checked with him numerous times, including texting him quotes from some magazine that she had found at the library called Cosmopolitan. And while he still struggled with his grasp on technology, Elsa had not completely abandoned her previous habits either. Despite repeated suggestions that they did not need to identify themselves on each text message, Elsa insisted on signing off of each one with her full name and formal title.

"You need to show Emma how special you think she is," Elsa had instructed him. "You don't want her to think that you take her for granted."

Stopping at the corner, he viewed his reflection in the plate glass of a store window. Elsa had gone so far as to suggest a shirt for him, choosing a dark green button down paired with dark pants and his signature boots. He was still a few minutes early to pick Emma up from her parents', but he was running out of both excuses and willpower.

He was about two blocks from the loft when he felt the familiar jolt of his cell phone vibrating in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw Emma's name and message that she was looking forward to tonight. She might not be able to see him through the phone, but he gifted her image with one of his brightest smiles.

He heard the engine of a nearby car rev, its headlights bright against his eyes. Lifting his right hand, he shielded his eyes and attempted to make out the car's driver. The lights grew closer and despite his hurried steps seemed to follow him. He squinted and peered again at the approaching car, unable to see anything over the high beams.

His legs stretched for the safety of the sidewalk, but it was too late. The car sped toward him and with a final blow sent him rolling up and over the hood of the car, a sickening crunch within his body as he landed moments later on the asphalt. He instinctively reached for his phone, but found it in pieces from the impact. Dropping it to the hard surface below, he watched the red tail lights retreat as his world closed in on him. Numbness and black settled over him, his lungs feeling piercing sharpness with each breath. Just as quickly as the car had arrived, he felt the blackness take over and slip him farther away from his Swan.

I'm ducking over here, but you were warned that I was about to do something you wouldn't like. I promise a good pay off. That pay off comes sooner with reviews.