A/N: We're getting to the end, but I wanted Emma to help return the favor to Elsa a bit.

Coming in from the kitchen with a glass of water, Emma marveled for a moment at the sight of Killian in her bed. She'd shared a bed with him several times, both at Granny's and on his boat. But to see him in the midst of her familiar floral sheets, propped up on pillows and nestled under a thin blanket that she used so that she could leave a fan on all night, was a sight she was not used to seeing.

With his bandages to be changed and medication to deal with in the aftermath of his hospital stay, she had hurriedly made up her mind that he would stay with her. He'd smiled and said it wasn't necessary, but he also added that he could not and would not resist the urge to spend time in her bed.

"Everyone tucked in?" he asked, opening his eyes and surprising her that he was awake after all. She placed the glass on his side of the bed and grabbed her phone to set the alarm.

"You're the last one," she said, peeling back the cover to slide in beside him. She frowned when he opened his arms to hold her against him. "I don't want to hurt you. Your arm is still…"

"You wouldn't hurt me, love," he insisted. "And I was thinking of nothing more than just to hold you. I wouldn't object to more if you were inclined to try to seduce me." He moved his eyebrows up and down as if to punctuate his thoughts.

"I'm usually the one on the receiving end of the seduction," she said, sliding her hand along his chest so lightly that the hair scattered there tickled her palm. "But I'm afraid that between your injuries needing to heal and my eavesdropping friend in the living room, you're going to have to wait for that."

He looked a bit put upon, but still pulled her into his arms and sank lower into the bed's covers. "I still can't believe you're here now," he said, breath warm against her skin. "I don't think I'll ever be able to let you go."

***AAA***

A few weeks later Elsa frowned at the pile of laundry in the basket before she lifted it. "You do realize that the Nolans probably did not expect you to house five people in this apartment when they rented it to you. There are rules and laws about that."

Emma pushed her feet into a pair of red sneakers and grinned. "Aren't you supposed to be gone?" she asked. "I thought this was just a pit stop on the way to your world tour of domination."

"Yes, well," Elsa said, shifting the basket of laundry to one hip. "Your boyfriend got lost and almost killed, Henry's grandfather passed away, Will has been reunited with his long lost summer camp buddy and childhood friend, and you can't possibly cope without me what with your new job about to start and classes too." She shrugged as though the answer was obvious. "I'm trying to be a good friend here, Emma. Not that you would recognize."

"Of course I recognize it." It had been a little more than three weeks since Killian's brief stay in the hospital and since she had moved to Storybrooke. She had to admit it was not exactly as she had pictured. Namely Elsa and Will's insistence on not leaving had added to the crowded and cozy nature of the loft. With Killian almost recovered, he was still staying there as well to have the extra help he swore he didn't need. Only Henry appeared to have any privacy at all, as he was not willing to give up his loft bedroom for anyone. The four adults had joked that it was like an expanded version of Three's Company. Someone was always arguing. Someone was always falling over something. And there were more misunderstandings than you could count.

Elsa had made about four mentions of leaving once they had returned to Storybrooke, Elsa driving David's truck with Emma and Killian while David sailed the boat back to its slip at the docks. Will had ignored her the first three times and the fourth time reminded her that he wasn't planning to join her on the first leg of her trip anyway. She didn't mention it again, instead going out and buying an air mattress so they didn't have to argue about who got the sleeping bag and who got the couch.

It meant that each morning was a fight when someone got up, as the air mattress did not fit fully in the living room. It invaded part of the kitchen and chairs had to be moved. That meant that someone was always tripping over out of place furniture and cursing under their breath. Killian was the earliest riser of the group and often experienced the worst of the aggravation.

Will was seated at the kitchen table, his coffee mug almost empty and a newspaper spread out in front of him. His gaze darted across the page and the marker in his hand tapped out a steady rhythm on the paper. Killian was across from him, giving instructions to Henry who was attempting to make a grilled cheese sandwich.

"Not quite yet," he said to the boy. "You'll know when it's right." Henry was standing on one foot, the other foot rubbing on the back of his standing leg to scratch an itch.

"Is he talking about food or sex?" Elsa said under her breath. "It sounds awfully zen for food talk."

"Given that he's talking to my son, I hope it is about food," Emma declared, pulling back the folding doors to reveal the washer and dryer. It was the first home she had ever occupied with such a luxury. She was well accustomed to laundry rooms, having used them as places to read or work with Henry on his homework. The first night she had spent in the loft she had done two loads in the middle of the night simply because she could.

The two women sorted the basket, calling out that it was Will's turn next. However, his quick witted response that reminded them how he had already screwed that up once and nobody had forgiven him yet. Emma called it a likely excuse and Elsa huffed at the stereotypical response from him. Walking past, she thumped the back of his head and headed over to the bank of cabinets and appliances that made up the kitchen.

"There's no coffee," she announced, slamming her mug down on the counter and placed her hands on her hips. "You didn't leave me any coffee?"

Will managed to look up from his newspaper and peered into his own mug that had maybe an inch of the dark liquid. "I'm sorry?"

Killian chuckled. "It's nearly one," he pointed out. "It is past the time for coffee."

Emma gave Killian a warning glance that he did not want to be a part of their argument, having witnessed those several times herself. She simply stepped around and looked over Henry's shoulder, telling him that the sandwich was now ready. "Take the pan off the heat," she reminded him. "I'm not aiming to have a fire."

Elsa threw herself in a chair with a pout on her face and looked with narrow eyes at Will. "What are you doing anyway? A crossword puzzle?" She grabbed at the paper, yanking it so hard that she left a corner of it in his hands. Raising an eyebrow at her discovery, she threw it back down on the table. "Apartments? You're thinking to move here?"

Emma bit her lip and steered Henry toward the living room and then the stairs with her hand on his shoulder. Gesturing with her head, she silently told Killian to join her in the bedroom. She had already heard from Will that he was considering the idea, but she had thought he would have at least broached the subject with his girlfriend. Obviously not, Emma thought, from the way Elsa was reacting to the news. Even with the wall between the two couples, she tried to sit as unobtrusively as possible, but given the layout of the loft that was hard. Privacy was not a thing to be had there.

"I was considering it," Will said almost meekly. "I found this one that sounds brilliant…"

She threw him a look that screamed annoyed. "I have a sister who I love and adore. I'm an aunt. You expect me to just move?"

"Bloody hell, you have been planning your world trip for a while now," he pointed out, trying what Emma knew did not work with her determinedly stubborn friend – logic. He was clearly wounded by her attitude. "You didn't realize that would mean leaving them? Leaving me?"

"And I invited you to go with me," she pointed out. "You said you couldn't because you wanted to stay closer to home. You didn't want to travel for that long, but low and behold you're planning to move? What if I had taken my trip? Would I have come back to find you living here? I thought we were trying to make things work, but no. You're here making plans that don't include me." She slapped her hands on the table and used it to balance as she stood up. "That's fine. I know now."

"You don't know anything about my plans, Elsa," Will said, his mouth clamping shut as he realized he had just said something wrong. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a black ring box and slammed it on the table. "You are an infuriating woman, a tad bit daft even, but I was planning to ask you to marry me. I was thinking we might like to live here in Storybrooke together. A fresh start for us."

Her nostrils flared as if he had said something incredibly insulting. "And now you're not? What? Because I didn't want to come home from my trip to find out that home wasn't home anymore?" She whirled around to face the door. "I can't understand you sometimes."

"Oi!" he said more firmly this time. "I was still going to ask you. I'm asking you now." He flipped open the velvet box and thrust it toward her.

"How romantic!" she yelled, rolling her eyes dramatically. "You know a proposal should be something that is thought out and passionate. You act like you're being forced. You're crazy if you think I'm going to say yes."

"I'm not the daft one here, darling," he shouted back. "When you have come to your senses, you will see that. Until then, I think I'll take a room at that inn down the way." He threw the box down on the table and turned so quickly to the door that he had to steady himself rather than fall over.

"There is no need for that," Elsa said, storming toward the doorway herself. "I can get my own room."

Emma and Killian looked desperately at the door between the bedroom and the living area, the arguing couple between them and a clean escape.

"We could try to make a run for it," Killian muttered when Emma shrank into the pillows on the bed like she wanted to disappear.

"They argue all the time," she whispered, "but this sounds horrible."

"Aye," Killian said, falling backward onto the pillows with her. He pulled one out from behind his back with buttons and thick threads decorating it. The look he gave her was another that asked why on earth she had so many uncomfortable pillows. With all its adornments, it was hardly functional. She rolled her eyes at the silent criticism.

They both flinched as the door slammed.

"I should go check on Elsa," Emma told him, feeling reluctant to leave him and tilting her forehead to rest on his shoulder.

Standing, she gathered her hair into her hand and threw it over one shoulder, rooting her feet to the ground. Her hands lowered to her hips and she stood in the pose for a good thirty seconds before Killian asked her what she was doing.

"Gathering my nerve," she said with a laugh. "Elsa is a great friend, but the woman is a little scary when she's angry."

"That she is, love," he said, crossing his ankles and appearing to pose on the bed like a male model. "I think I'll wait here and let you handle it. If it sounds too rough, I'll call for assistance."

She giggled. "Don't worry," she teased. "I'll protect you from her."

She slipped out into the unusually quiet apartment and found that Elsa had retreated to the landing outside the front door. She was slumped onto one of the top steps, cradling her knees to her chest and the lowering them again so that her hands rested in her lap. Had she been Anna or Emma, she probably would have been crying. But Elsa was her usual reserved self.

Emma plopped onto the top step, looping one arm through the banister spindles. "So this is a switch," she said slowly. "Usually you're trying to talk me down from the bridge. I'm not prepared for this. Maybe you should tell me what you'd say if the position was reversed."

Eyes locked on her hands, Elsa huffed in discontent. "I didn't ask for this," she said. "I didn't ask for marriage and picket fence and all that."

"I don't think that was ever in the cards for you. Marriage yes, but I don't see you doing carpool or being a class mother. You're always going to be Elsa, a ring on your finger won't change that." Emma frowned at her friend's unresponsiveness. "Is that it? Are you worried that you're going to lose yourself if you marry him? Because I have no idea what it is that you're so mad about other than the fact that he was wrong not to consult with you on the moving thing."

She had meant to make Elsa smile and laugh from the statement, but it didn't work. The woman sighed with a resignation that made Emma's heart sink. "We talked about marriage before," she said, waving her hand as if the words might sting less. "He was married and then…well Anastasia, his wife died. She was missing for more than a year before he ever knew what became of her."

Emma remembered Will having mentioned his late wife before, having grown quiet when they were sitting around talking about a case of a wife on the run and her husband who just wanted to know of her well-being. "And that bothers you?" Emma prodded, not knowing what else to say.

"No, not exactly. I get that he loved her. He still loves her. But he's here and she's gone. It sounds simple, right?"

Emma knew better than to call any matter of the heart simple, but she wasn't going to argue with Elsa. "He loves you too."

Elsa shrugged. "Do you remember that creep I dated right after we opened the office? The one you said was hiding something."

"Of course," Emma said. "He was awful."

"He was married."

"Like as in separated or divorced…"

"Married."

"Oh." Emma glanced toward her friend again, looking for any sign that there was some remorse or regret in her expression. There was.

"I found out and I didn't dump his ass right away," she admitted. "See, it wasn't complicated. I knew he wasn't going to want anything more than what we had. It was just simple. And that is what it isn't with Will."

"Why are you so upset about it being complicated?" Emma asked, knowing what her own answer would be if the question was asked. Complicated meant having to answer questions. It meant having to be open to possibilities that she had always assumed were for other people. Is that what Elsa felt too?

"It will sound childish, but I guess I feel like I'm in a competition somehow. I'm competing against her memory. That's what he judges everything against. I can't live up to it. I can't be her. I can't be everything he had with her or everything he wanted. I'm not that girl." There was one tear on Elsa's cheek; proof that she wasn't heartless, she said as she wiped it away.

"I don't think he wants you to be the same," Emma said thoughtfully. "If he did, that would be kind of sick. I think that you being the same would be hard for him to move on, you know. I didn't know Anastasia, but she was probably what he needed in his life right then and vice versa. So he fell in love with two very different women. There's no crime in that. In fact, it tells me something pretty important about him." Emma's free hand traced a z-like pattern on her jeans. "It tells me that he has a big heart and great taste."

Elsa delicately dabbed her smallest finger at the corner of her eye. "You think?"

"You and I," Emma began, pointing her index finger at her friend and her thumb at herself, "we don't fall in love easily. We can't even imagine someone loving us. We start thinking of all the things wrong with a guy if he dares show us any attention other than trying to get in our panties. The fact that Will can honestly say he's loved two women in his life is amazing to me. I can't imagine it."

"You loved Neal and Walsh," Elsa pointed out, looking remarkably calmer than she had.

"I was too young to truly love Neal," Emma declared. "Cared about him, yes. Loved the idea of having him in my life, yes. But we didn't know each other well enough to call it anything. And as for Walsh," Emma shrugged, "I certainly didn't know him. Again, I loved the idea of him. Maybe if it had been real, it would have moved to that stage, but it wasn't real. It was a ploy, a con."

Elsa smiled. "I think you have it in you to love," she said. "You love your son. You love your friends. And I think you could even love Killian."

"And I," Emma said, wrapping her hand back on the banister and pulling herself into a standing position, "think you are changing the subject. We're talking about you and Will here."

Elsa held up a hand to get Emma to help her to standing too. "I guess I should go find the idiot."

"He's probably expecting you to," Emma agreed.

"You know," Elsa said, taking a step down, "I think I liked it better when we were just mean and bitter. Guys gave up easier. We had a good time and then went on our ways. Life was easier then." She smiled back at Emma. "This mushy love stuff is annoying. It's…"

"Go talk to him," Emma said, placing the ring box in the palm of her hand. "Find him and talk this out before I have to intercede.

Elsa shrank back in mock horror. "God forbid."

Emma waited there on the landing as Elsa descended the stairs. She knew her friend might hesitate or even come running back without warning. That was correct, as Elsa stopped with her hand midair before continuing through it. Emma breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to the apartment.

Not one to leave things disorderly, Killian had already washed the dishes and straightened up a bit. His back was toward her as he wiped the table carefully. She couldn't help herself, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind and resting her chin on his left shoulder, the softness of his t-shirt feeling cool against her skin. She pushed forward a bit and kissed his cheek as he turned his head.

"Crisis averted?" he asked, dropping the sponge and placing his hand over hers.

"I think so," she said. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." He had leaned back into her embrace, smirking that she was instigating something akin to affection. She usually waited on him to make a first move. Yet there she was hugging him, nuzzling into his neck, and pressing tightly against him. "Someone is feeling a bit amorous at the moment."

"Trying to distract myself," she said, loosening her grip and nudging his hips so that he turned around to face her. Her left arm looped over his shoulder and her right hand sat flat against his chest over his heart. "We haven't had much time alone."

He dipped down to kiss her hungrily, mouths sliding off each other. Suddenly, as though someone had yanked him back, he broke off the kiss. "Something wrong?" she asked, lightly touching her fingers to her lips.

"Your boy is still upstairs and rightly scarred by the argument earlier," he said, gesturing his chin up toward the loft. "Perhaps we should refrain from damaging his young psyche any more than it has been."

She laughed. "Good point," she said. "How do you always know what to say? You're always saying or doing the right thing." She smiled tenderly, her hand reaching out to cup his cheek.

"I'm not perfect and neither are you, love," he said, backing against the table. "I suppose if you think I have been, it is more of a sign of the façade we have put up for each other. I haven't wanted anything or anyone more than I have wanted you, Emma. Even if at first it was just to make you smile. While that is exhilarating, it is terrifying."

"How so? You don't seem very scared." She rocked back onto the heels of her shoes.

"It is a bloody nightmare trying to keep myself from doing something to ruin this," he admitted, his eye contact with her waning as he dipped his head in a show of shame. "I have to hold myself back or I feel like I could scare you. I have to temper myself because I know that you want to move slow." He shrugged. "Emma, I want you in my life in any fashion that you wish and desire. I am just afraid that I might overstep and ruin it. I don't want to see you run from me."

Though she was a few inches shorter than he was, she bent her knees and came up under him with a sheepish smile of her own. "You aren't overstepping, Killian," she said, her hand going back over his heart. "I don't want to run from you. I want to be with you too."

Thoughts?