"I've just had a really, really bad day," Emma said, hating the slight wobble in her voice. "Do you mind if I hang out for a little while? Just until the storm passes."

Killian's eyes widened, and he stepped back quickly sweeping his hand out in invitation. "My apologies, Swan," he said, ushering her in and then closing the door against the cold and snow. "Of course you may stay with me, for as long as you like."

"I'm not staying with you," Emma said, brushing the snow from her coat, "and let's get this straight. The only reason I'm here is that it's better than freezing to death."

She could have sworn she saw a look of pain flash in his eyes for a split second, but then it was gone. "Well whatever the reason, you look half frozen. Let's get you out of these wet clothes."

Emma rolled her eyes, hating the way her heart pounded at the thoughts Killian telling her to get out of her clothes brought to mind. Still, after all these years.

How pathetic was she?

"Why am I not surprised you went for the immediate innuendo?"

He shook his head. "No innuendo, love. I vow to remain a complete gentleman." He tilted his head, wagging his eyebrows in the most ridiculous way. "When I decide to employ innuendo, trust me. You'll know it."

He growled the last few words, popping the last "t" in a way that had her want to fan herself despite her half-frozen state.

"Go warm yourself by the fire," he said, voice returning to the earnest concern he'd shown when she first stepped into his home. "Let me see if I can find some clothes for you to borrow."

Emma waited until he left the room before shedding her coat and gloves and then hobbling to the couch before the fire. It felt like heaven, so warm, so cozy. As she waited for Killian to return, she held her hands out to the fire, and she grimaced as her mind went back to the last time she was in this cabin.

Six years before

"This calls for a drink, love," Killian said, giving twenty-two year old Emma a quick, friendly hug. "Graduating cum laude is quite the accomplishment, Swan!"

Emma felt the blush rise. Killian's praise never ceased to give her a warm, fuzzy feeling and make her stomach swoop.

Of course, most things about her brother's best friend managed to do that to her.

She'd known him all her life, and she knew he saw her as nothing but David's, kid sister-he was, after all, five years her senior-but from the moment she was old enough to know what a crush was, she'd had one on Killian Jones.

He was just so-there were no words. Easily the handsomest guy she'd ever met, she got butterflies every time he looked at her with those gorgeous blue eyes. But it was more than that. He was quick witted, funny, devoted, loyal.

She felt like a tongue-tied fool every time she was around him. Of all the guys she could have fallen in love with, why'd it have to be him?

She'd endured more than one broken heart as he'd dated various other women-the most serious of which was Milah. He'd dated her for two years, and Emma had dreaded the news of their engagement every day. In the end Milah had broken his heart, choosing to go back to her loser ex-boyfriend rather than staying with Killian.

Emma hated herself for the relief and almost joy she'd felt at the news of the split. She was a horrible person for feeling any positive emotion when he was so obviously hurting over the betrayal.

After that, his encounters with women had become much more casual, and yet every time she overheard him telling David about the latest woman he'd taken home the night before, it felt like a punch to the gut.

She knew she was younger than he was, but why couldn't it be her he wanted?

She should try to get over him, she knew it. She'd just graduated from college and gotten offered a job in New York. Now that she was moving several states away, it wasn't like anything would happen between them even if he was interested in her. There really was no sense in continuing to torture herself by continuing to harbor feelings for someone who would never be hers.

Still, she couldn't stand the thought of leaving Storybrooke without seeing him one last time, and so she'd shown up at his house this evening and told him of the honors with which she had graduated.

"Here we go, Swan," Killian said, placing a bottle of rum and two tumblrs on the coffee table in front of the couch where they sat.

They spent the next several minutes talking and drinking, laughing and enjoying each other's company-at least Emma hoped he was enjoying her company as much as she enjoyed his. As she continued to toss back the shots Killian poured for her, Emma felt her inhibitions slowly start to recede.

This was one of the last days she'd be in Storybrooke before her big move. What did she have to lose?

She scooted closer to him on the couch, feeling flirtatious. "Thanks for the rum," she said in a low voice.

He grinned, before letting his head tilt down in the way that drove her crazy with want. "Is that all my rum is worth to you? Just a simple 'thank you'?" he purred, looking at her from heavily hooded eyes and tapping his lips with his finger.

Feeling suddenly bold, she scooted yet closer. "You couldn't handle it."

He leaned into her until he was close enough she could feel his breath against her face. "Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it."

That was it. That was all it took to blast aside the last of her inhibitions, and she surged forward taking his lips with the kind of passion and abandon she'd always dreamed of.

She wasn't ashamed to admit she'd daydreamed plenty of times about just what it would be like to be kissed by Killian, but not even her most fevered daydream could live up to the reality. He was an unbelievable kisser, his lips both soft and demanding, his skill unrivaled. She thought she might just combust on the spot-and it had nothing to do with the June heat wave they were having outside.

The longer the kiss went on, the more she wanted. Becoming bolder by the moment, she pushed him back until he lay prone on the couch as she straddled him, bringing her hands to the buttons on his shirt.

But that was the moment it all fell apart. He stilled her hand, gently pushing her aside as he returned to a sitting position.

"That was-" he said breathlessly.

She looked into his eyes, confused about what had just happened, and what she saw there was like a bucket of cold water tossed over her. He looked-ashamed, cautious, uncomfortable. She wasn't sure exactly what the expression on his face meant, but it was absolutely clear the message it conveyed.

He was rejecting her advances.

Embarrassment poured over her in waves, and she got quickly to her feet. "Look, you don't have to say anything, I get it," she said, refusing to look at him

"Swan, wait-" he started.

But she didn't want to hear it. Didn't want to hear the platitudes. Didn't want to hear the "look, you're a nice person, but-" speech. She just wanted to get out of here as quickly as she could, while she still held onto the smallest shred of her dignity.

It was just easier to put the wall around her heart, to call on anger instead of letting herself feel the mortification of the fact that she'd thrown herself at the man she'd loved basically forever, and he made it clear that he did not feel the same way.

"No, I don't need to wait," she said angrily. "I need to get out of here. Just-just leave me alone!"

She'd fled from his home then, forcing the tears aside until she was well away where he couldn't see her.

What an absolute fool she'd been!

Current day

That was the last time she'd ever seen Killian. Somehow she'd managed to avoid him during every visit she'd made back to Storybrooke. The thought of being around him after that one rum-filled debacle was still too painful, too raw, even six years later.

Somehow even walking in on Neal and Tamara hadn't hurt nearly as much as Killian's rejection had. Why was that?

Because Killian mattered-always had, probably always will-in a way Neal never could, her inner voice told her.

Well they weren't having a repeat of that last day at the cabin. Not ever again. That kiss was a one-time thing. All she had to do was get through this evening, and then she could go back to avoiding Killian like the plague.

If only she could convince her duplicitous heart that was really what she wanted.

Notes:

-Happy Friday! What a difference a week makes! Our snow is mostly melted, and we may get temps up to 60 this weekend! Things in Storybrooke certainly haven't begun to thaw yet, though, have they? Now you know why Emma "hates" Killian, but does she really have the full picture? Did she really interpret what happened in that cabin in the right way or could it be that things weren't exactly as they seemed?

-So, I'll admit that my foray back into Fluffy Fridays hasn't been all that fluffy, strictly speaking, in this fic yet, but there's still one part to go (hopefully next week). Coming up next, we'll get Killian's POV, and we'll learn his thoughts about the "one time thing" kiss, also plenty of hurt/comfort moments as Killian takes care of Emma, and the two of them clear the air. It just might be that this night in the cabin ends up better than the last one!