Inspired by the newest spoiler pics of Killian and Emma in a restaurant.

"Emma, I need to talk to you."

She looked up at him, completely baffled. This lunatic was interrupting their diner. Not that she felt completely uncomfortable anyway and was kind of glad to have an excuse to put a hold on the awkward conversation with Chris but … who did he think he was?

"Emma, who is this?"

Chris looked at her, waiting for an explanation and suddenly she felt more comfortable with this complete stranger in a leather attire and a glove over one hand than with Chris who had pushed her back into a past she didn't want to think about anymore.

"Sorry, Chris." Emma's eyes flitted to the stranger, something tugging at her as she looked into his deep blue eyes, needing to force herself to look back at her diner partner. "He is an old friend."

"An old friend?" Chris asked suspiciously and Emma stiffened, just wanting him to be gone.

"Yes. An old friend. I'm sorry to cut our diner short. But I need to talk to him."

Chris huffed out an angry breath, pushing his chair back and standing up, throwing the napkin on the table, shooting an angry look at her lunatic savior before he stormed away.

"Can I join you?"

She looked up at him incredulously. He actually asked her for permission to sit down after he had just rudely interrupted their diner?

"Sure."

He slumped down on the chair Chris had just occupied a few seconds before, putting his left arm awkwardly on the table and for the first time she realized that something was wrong with his hand. It didn't move right. Something was just off.

But he interrupted her thought process as he started to speak. "Swan."

She jerked her head up, his lilting voice touching something deep inside of her.

"I need you to believe me."

"Who are you?" Emma asked harshly, completely confused by the strange pull she felt towards him.

He was a stranger. She shouldn't feel anything.

"I told you already. I'm an old friend. You just can't remember me."

"What's your name?" Emma was trying to put his face to a name, maybe she had met him before. But an old friend? She didn't know this guy.

"Hoo … My name is Killian Jones. We met for the first time when you were separated from your son."

"I was never separated from my son." Emma huffed, grabbing the knife on the table, needing to feel the metal under her fingers.

She had taken some self-defense classes. If he would make the wrong move she would just drive the knife into him.

He leaned back in his chair, eying the knife for a second warily before a smile tugged up his mouth.

"This is a déjà-vu, love."

"What are you talking about?"

"The first time we met I tried to lie to you, telling you I was a blacksmith. But you saw right through me, using your special power, pulling a knife on me and forcing me to tell the truth."

Her fingers relaxed around the knife as she stared at him. Something was familiar about him. Just something in the expression of his eyes. She could swear she had never seen him before in her life but at the same time she felt as if she knew him better than herself.

"I don't know you." Her voice sounded slightly hysterical as if she was trying to convince herself.

"You do, Emma. You just can't remember."

Looking into his blue eyes, she wanted to believe him. She wanted to remember him. Because in all her life no one had ever looked at her like he did.

With tenderness.

With worry.

With hope.

With Love.