Chapter Six

The sting of brine filled Emma's sinuses as she exited her bug. Killian's sailing yacht was moored at the end of the dock, ready to cast off as soon as her captain gave word. Retrieving her luggage from the backseat, Emma set off, hitching the strap of the garment bag further up her shoulder as she tread the rough, worn boards of the dock, the flutter of nerves taking flight within her chest as her anxiety level crept higher the closer she got to the boat… er, ship.

Hyde was waiting for her on deck and escorted her back to the room she'd been confined to the last time she found herself as a guest of this vessel. After making sure she had all she needed, he informed her the boss would be along shortly to answer her questions, giving away nothing as to why she was there or where she was headed.

While Emma removed her dresses from the garment bag and hung them up in the cabin's closet so they wouldn't wrinkle, she thought back to the cryptic message she'd received from Killian that morning. Honestly, it was a relief to hear from him after having had no contact from anyone within the family since the bombshells of Flynn's body, the Graham confrontation, and revelation of her brother had detonated in her face the day before. She had expected him to call - had hoped he would, if she were being honest with herself - but as each hour passed her worry had increased. She'd gone to bed with a bottle and a half of wine coursing through her, and a prayer to a God she didn't even believe in running through her head that he hadn't gone looking further into her brother.

When his call had finally come early that morning, she'd slept through it. At first listen, she hadn't noted his detached tone or been bothered by the lack of details in his voice mail. Her pounding head and panic over being late had prompted her into action, but as she'd replayed it to make sure she had everything he'd said she would need, the strain came through more clearly.

Was it the police investigation into Flynn's death? She could only imagine the reprimand he must have received from Liam and their father at being so careless. Or… she thought with a fresh swell of fear, have they discovered who David is, and this command to meet Killian at the docks, on his boat, packed for a trip, is really just a set-up to do the thing they all now agreed should have been done the night I witnessed Killian gun down Walsh?

In a repeat of her previous occupation, Emma slumped down on the edge of the bed and buried her head in her hands, waiting for the verdict of her fate. When the door opened, Emma's head snapped up and she sprang to her feet. Entering with his usual swagger, Killian had his hands tucked into the pockets of his peacoat, and Emma would be lying if she said she hadn't flinched slightly when he removed them, only to breathe a sigh of relief that no gun had been drawn with them.

"Swan," he greeted. "I appreciate you being prompt, especially with the short notice. Were you able to bring everything I requested?"

"Um… yeah," she answered, noting the way he wasn't making his usual piercing eye contact with her. "You gonna tell me where we're going, or is it a surprise?"

Settling himself into the same chair he had when last they were in this room together, he skimmed his fingers lightly over the surface of the table, drawing nonsensical patterns along its top as he parsed, "Due to the additional scrutiny the family… or rather I am under with the SPD in regards to Flynn's murder, Liam thought it would be best if I left town for a few days. It so happens, there is a high rollers week happening at a casino we do business with that Liam was to attend, but it was decided that I go in his place with you accompanying me as… my girlfriend."

"Why do you need someone to pose as your girlfriend? And why does it have to be me?" Emma asked as she worked up her nerve to ask the thing she was afraid to.

"Other families will be there as well," he answered, his attention still centered on just about anything other than her. "Having a lovely lass on my arm is expected, and… it gives you a chance to talk shop with some of the other ladies as well. Much can be learned by talking with the trophy wives and mistresses some of the other men bring with them. Plus, Liam thought it best you leave town, too. Until things cool off."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Emma blinked back the reactionary tears his cold countenance had brought to the corner of her eyes and shook her hair over her shoulders. "Tell me the truth," she demanded with a small catch that finally drew his full attention to her. "Is there an ulterior motive for this trip?"

His tongue darted over his lips. "What sort of ulterior motive?"

"One that requires getting me out of town so you can make me disappear?"

She could see the truth bloom in his eyes and tighten in his features. Wrapping her arms tighter around her, she sank back down onto the bed. "Oh, God."

The mattress beside her dipped and Killian's hands grabbed her shoulders. Wrenching her around to face him, he brought one of his hands up to cup her cheek and fervently declared, "I swear to you, Swan, that isn't going to happen. I have no intentions of... With any luck, our time away will allow Liam to cool off and realize how foolish and short-sighted getting rid of you would be."

"Why?" Emma asked. "Why now? Why all of sudden-"

"We know," he said, cutting her off with a look of significance that made her blood run cold. "We know about David, your brother. We know he's FBI. Liam believes you've been betraying us this whole-"

"I haven't," Emma asserted. "I swear to you, Killian. Yesterday was the first time I've spoken with him since we started our arrangement."

"Yesterday?" Killian replied with a pinch of his brows, dropping his hand from her face.

Wetting her lips, Emma explained, "I was worried, with the way Graham overreacted that he would call David. I thought if I called and told him Graham was being dramatic and making a bigger deal out of it than it was, he might not drop everything and come to my rescue."

Killian's lips twitched. "Must run in the family."

"What?"

"The urge to save people."

Emma bit back the response she'd given him before, that she was no saviour, and chewed on his words for a second before stating. "Maybe. But we have fundamentally different ideas of who deserves saving and how." Shaking her head, her eyes dropped to the floor. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about him before. I thought if you knew…"

"Aye," he responded, knowingly. "You don't have to explain."

"Don't I?" How else would she be able to convince him that she wasn't setting out to betray him if-

"You're something of an open book, love," he mused. "And I know the only reason you didn't say anything about him was to protect yourself as well as him and his family. Which is why… I don't need you to tell me anything more until you are ready to disclose it. From the very beginning of our association, I have chosen to do something I rarely do."

"What's that?"

"Trust," he said, softly. "Take a leap of faith. See the best... in you."

Emma's lips parted. She had no idea how to respond to that. Killian reached up and scratched behind his ear before confessing, "I have an entire file filled with information on you, limited as it is. I know more about you and your past than, dare I say, probably even those closest to you, and I can only imagine how… troubling that is for you." Hesitantly, he reached forward and took her hand, caressing the backs of her knuckles with the pad of his thumb. "So, I don't need you to tell me anything more about yourself, unless you simply wish to share it. What we need to do now is focus our efforts on finding the rat, so I can bring everything to Liam and my father, thereby distracting them as they deal with him or her while you take your earnings and the new identity I'm having made for you and get far away from us."

Emma's chest tightened painfully, but she pushed past the forlorn feeling gripping her heart like a vice, and asked, "New identity?"

"Aye," he answered. "It should be ready upon our return." He squeezed her hand with a measure of assurance and added, "I'm using someone outside the family, so you needn't worry it'll be compromised. With it and the hundred thousand, you should be able to get well away should my brother prove unwilling to relent. I'm hoping, with our efforts to deflect the SPD investigation regarding Flynn's death, and assuming your efforts with your brother prove successful and the FBI does not descend upon Storybrooke, that Liam will be less of a moody arse when we return. If we can identify the rat before then, and show him how dedicated you were in helping the family, you may not even need the new identity, but I'd rather be prepared in making you disappear in a rather more dignified fashion."

Emma nodded and swallowed past the trepidations rising within her, allowing his jesting words to apply a measure of calm over her. She could fall apart later. Right now, she needed to work the problem. If Killian thought they could identify the rat before they returned to Storybrooke, then he must have had another reason for wanting her by his side on this trip.

"It'll give you access to the other families," he said after she voiced that speculation. "As I said, there is information you can glean from the women. They hear things, know things, are privy to conversations because they are seen as adornment and not a risk, making some men less guarded with their words whilst in their presence. We know the Mills had a similar problem within their organization, so it might help to know whether any of the other families have as well. Once we arrive, I can point out the players and guide you on the best way to approach and relate to them."

"Why wait until we arrive?"

"Because, while I know which families will be there, I do not know which ladies some of them will bring with them. Their wife? Mistress? A bit of fun? It's anyone's guess with some of these characters."

A thought occurred to Emma and she turned towards the wardrobe where her outfits, requested by Killian, were hanging. "Which one am I?"

"Pardon?"

Bringing her attention back to him, she lifted a brow and pointedly asked, "Girlfriend or bit of fun… which one am I?"

"For appearances," he began with a tone of prudence, "you'll be attending as my girlfriend. It will be expected we share a suite, and that you play your part accordingly."

Both of Emma's brows shot up, accusingly. "How convincing are you expecting me to be?"

"You wound me, Swan," he crooned, embracing the atmospheric shift from fraught with peril to challenging flirtation now crackling between them. "Remember, I am a gentleman. Your endeavors are only necessary whilst we have an audience to cater to… unless you choose to make the ruse real behind closed doors," he purred with a seductive waggle of his brows that made Emma roll her eyes even as a treasonous feeling swooped low in her belly. "The audience, however," he continued, his demeanor tensing slightly, "might prove tricky if you try and stray too far from normal."

"I don't-"

"The weekend allows crime families and their associates to use the public event in order to conduct business with the casino and one another. The event provides cover and forces us all to be on our best behaviour as we negotiate terms and treaties. The heads of each family, as well as their seconds, will likely be in attendance, which means-"

"Neal's gonna be there," Emma realized, her grip on Killian's hand, which she wasn't even aware she was still holding, tightened as pain and betrayal slipped through cracks in the wall she quickly began to fortify.

"Aye," Killian replied with an air of concern. "Will that be a problem?"

"Nope." Emma shook her head while giving a vehement pop to the p. "No problem at all."

Killian pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth, weighing the question before asking, "Do you wish to discuss your history with-"

"Nothing to discuss," she stated with an empathic tone and a look that expressed her firm resolve on the matter.

He gave her a relenting nod and released her hand. "Then there is only one more thing I need you to do before we cast off and set sail."

"What's that?"

"Call Graham," he said. "Tell him you're going out of town for a few days to work a case. Something completely unrelated to Flynn or having anything to do with the family. Otherwise, your sudden disappearance might raise flags."

With an agreeing nod, Emma pulled her cell from her pocket and dialed Graham. Killian remained at her side, in close enough proximity to hear the call without her having to put it on speaker. When the detective answered, Emma relayed the story to him as Killian had instructed and braced herself for the expected reaction.

"You don't usually clear your schedule with me," Graham stated in a tone of suspicion. "Are you sure there isn't another reason for you leaving town, other than a case?"

Emma took in a deep breath, one she knew Graham would be able to overhear, and said, "I talked to David yesterday."

"I know," Graham interjected. "I did, too."

Emma's eyes snapped to Killian whose posture and jaw stiffened.

"You did? He didn't mention-"

"It was after you'd already talked with him," Graham told her. "Read me the riot act for pushing you too hard about the SPD job. He's afraid you'll bolt again and he'll lose touch with you for good."

"I know," she said in a smaller voice than she would have liked, but guilt over using David's fears against him was threatening to overtake her. "Which is why I'm taking this case. David made me realize I was taking the Flynn thing too personally and letting my compulsion to not let anyone get the better of me cloud my judgment. So, I need you to keep me out of it," she continued on, playing the part she knew she needed to play. "I understand if you need an official statement from me about Jones' whereabouts the other night, but beyond that I don't want to be involved in the investigation."

"I understand." Graham paused for a moment, then informed her with disappointment coloring his tone. "We might not even need you to do that. We've got new information that's leading us in a different direction than Jones." Emma flicked her eyes back to Killian and caught the smug smirk lifting the corner of his mouth as she remembered his earlier statement about the family's efforts to deflect attention away from Killian. "Seems Flynn had a lot of enemies, so if one of these new leads pans out I probably won't need your statement. I'll let you know, though."

"Sounds good," she said. "And I'll let you know when I'm back in town."

"Be careful, Emma."

"Always am."

~/~

Amber liquid swirled in Killian's glass as he pressed play once more. The conversation Swan had with her brother the day before had been caught on their surveillance equipment. The fact she had to have known it would be, seeing as she made the call on her cell while in her apartment, both of which she knew to be bugged, didn't make the gnawing pit growing within his stomach any more bearable as he listened to it, for the third time.

It had been waiting for him in an email copied to his brother and father when he'd returned to his quarters, wishing to give Swan some time to herself before they arrived at the casino. In the brief recorded exchange, Swan had exposed more of herself than he knew she would have wished to. Insecurities, vulnerabilities, and old wounds were all laid bare as she reassured her brother she wasn't in over her head with his family. If Killian hadn't been currently battling a barrage of enemy fire from within his own soul, he might have been able to greater appreciate the way she'd steered and manipulated the conversation, making it so her brother ended up being the one assuring her his presence was not needed.

Although he had not yet heard from either of them, Killian didn't see how Liam or his father could contend she had nefarious intentions after listening to the conversation. However, while he remained cautiously optimistic that Liam would rescind his order regarding Emma, Killian also renewed his resolve to outright defy his brother if necessary. A betrayal he never would have thought himself capable.

Tipping the glass towards his lips, Killian swallowed down the remainder of his drink then poured himself another before the burn in the back of his throat could subside. A soft knock sounded at his door and he growled over the intrusion while pausing the playback, "I said I was to not be disturbed."

He slammed his palms against the top of the table as he shot to his feet when the door opened, but the scathing reprimand died on his tongue when Emma's apologetic expression preceded the rest of her.

"I hoped you might make an exception, but I can go if you'd rather-"

"Not at all, love," Killian replied, waving her in and gesturing to the seat next to his. "Please."

While she got herself settled, Killian procured a second glass and poured her a healthy portion. An amused, if not slightly sad sounding scoff huffed from her chest.

"Are we drowning our demons?" she quipped.

"No need, love," he stated, resuming his seat and holding his glass up towards her. "Unlike some, I can admit I enjoy the company of my demons."

Emma picked up her glass and mimicked his action, poised to accept the salute but held back as she asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means…" he began, his eyes dropping down to his phone where he knew Emma could see the paused audio file. "Despite all you said to your brother, all the reasons you gave him about not accepting Graham's offer or the many he's lined up for you over the years, you still couldn't fully admit to the real reason you've never chosen to walk the straight and narrow." Swan opened her mouth, an inquiry or protest poised on the tip of her tongue, but he continued on before she could voice it. "It isn't because you're afraid you'll fail and disappoint them or because you prefer to be your own boss, though I can acknowledge there is truth to all those concerns."

"What is it then?" Emma asked with a note of challenge in her tone and expression as she set her glass down and folded her arms over her chest. "If you know so much about me, if I'm such an open book, then why don't you tell me why I've kept David at a distance all these years."

Killian leaned forward and took hold of her obstinate gaze with an unyielding one of his own. "It's because, deep down…" he murmured, hoping she might hear the camaraderie in his words. "you prefer the darker and more twisted path." Her brows twitched upward and her lips parted slightly. "You aren't scared of the things that go bump in the night, you want to be the thing that scares them."

Emma visibly swallowed and her breathing shuddered as she released the breath she'd been holding. Reaching over, Killian pressed play on his phone and Emma silently gasped when she heard her own words fill the room.

"David. You're Prince Charming. A knight in shining armor. A hero that believes there is a right way to do things, but for me there is no right way or wrong way. There is just survival. This is what I know. It's what I'm good at. It's the life I've chosen and I don't need you or anyone else to save me from it."

"The difference between you and I, love," Killian said, closing out the audio app and pocketing his phone, "is I fully embraced my own brand of villainy long ago. I've made friends with the demons that allow me to be who I am, and have no problem spending time in their company. Though, that isn't to say I have embraced every dark manifestation that has come calling. I am a man with a code, after all."

Swan shifted in her seat, her eyes dipping towards her lap before they flicked up again. "A code that doesn't tolerate violence against women?"

Killian's brows pinched together and his head cocked to one side in perplexity.

"I've been sitting in my room trying to figure out why you haven't just gotten rid of me like your family wants you to, like I expected you to when we first met, and all I can come up with is… you can't tolerate violence against women. It's why you felt you had to deal with Walsh personally, why you didn't shoot me right after you did him, why you tasked Jefferson with keeping an eye and ear out on things Nottingham said and did, why you dealt with Flynn so…" Her eyes dropped back down and Killian pulled his own over to where his glass sat. They hadn't discussed it. Flynn's death. Flynn's murder. Dispensed by his own hands, though he had not meant to take the beating that far, didn't think he had taken it that far, and yet…

"You're not wrong," Killian acknowledged. "While I am not so naive as to think the innocent aren't sometimes harmed in the course of our business, I abhor cruelty towards women and children and work to avoid it at all costs."

"Is that why you're bending over backwards to try and wait out your brother? I mean, not that I'm not grateful," she amended quickly, which made Killian huff amusedly. "But if all you're doing is avoiding having to drown that particular demon, you could always make someone else-"

"You think I have refused to kill you because I wish to avoid a guilty conscience?"

"We both know you don't need me to help you find your rat," she stated. "So, the personal distaste of the matter is the only thing I can think of keeping you from-"

Anger erupted from Killian in the form of an incredulous chuckle, stalling Swan's words and causing her to flinch back in her seat. "Do you really have such a low opinion of yourself?"

"Excuse me?"

"That you can not see your worth, the value other people might have of you, is…" Killian sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. "Is all too reminiscent of how I feel about myself sometimes," he confessed. Fixing his eyes on her once more, he could see the confusion written in her expression. "While I might have my father and brother close to me now, it was not always the case. I know all too well how it feels to be left on your own for too long, to feel unwanted and of no particular use to anyone. To feel like you're… nothing."

He knew his words had struck a nerve, could see the walls being bricked to new heights right before his eyes. "Is this your way of trying to bond with me? Hoping I might change my mind about keeping things just business between us now that I owe you my life again and have to play-act as your touchy-feely girlfriend for the next few days?"

"I assure you, it's not," Killian countered. "Though, I won't deny I'm rather looking forward to the touchy-feely performance," he quipped, salaciously pausing as his eyes languidly raked over her form before settling back on her face where she was clearly fighting back a smile. "I only wish to be honest with you, as I have always been. I know you don't have a lot of people in whom you can confide, and I… I want you to know that you can with me. That I have… a certain level of understanding about how your past might have shaped you, and that I won't think less of you or pity you for it. If anything," he said, concluding his explanation, "I admire you. You're a tough lass and bloody brilliant to boot. Even if you haven't yet embraced those demons you still carry with you."

Picking up his tumbler, Killian took a long pull from the glass as he waited for Emma to process all he'd said, fully expecting her to exit his cabin with the utmost haste. He nearly choked and spat out his drink when one of her walls, reinforced over so many years of trauma and heartbreak, perhaps the original one she'd constructed after becoming tired of burying the pain and had chosen instead to quarry the repressed torments into a citadel, began to crumble.

"I'm not nothing," she said, quiet yet decisive. "I was never nothing, but… It can be hard to remind yourself of that when no one has ever wanted you."

Every impulse within him wanted to spare her this, but despite Killian's desire to the contrary, he remained silent and attentive as she opened up about her past. Being left on the side of the road as a newborn, being returned to foster care when her adopted family had a child of their own, being used by those working the system for their own financial or perverse motives, being on her own, out on the streets, after she'd had enough, being skeptical of and difficult towards the family who had found her, brought her into their home, and showed her what true love was for the first time in her life… being so scared she'd never be able to live up to the example they set, or be capable of holding on to that love and acceptance, feeling certain she'd do something to screw it up eventually.

"And then I did," Emma lamented, still holding back tears, stubbornly refusing to completely surrender to her emotions and expose herself fully, not that Killian blamed her.

"What do you mean, love?"

She wet her lips and swallowed several times, attempting to get a firm grip on her composure before confessing, "Robert's death. It was all my fault."

Killian thought back to the death certificate and report Robin had found. "No. It was… It was a car accident. A drunk driver, if I recall. How could that have been your fault?"

"I was at a party with friends," she said, her cadence stuttered and staccatoed as though this were the first time she had ever related the story out loud. "There was alcohol, and the Nolans had always said I could call, no questions asked, if I was ever in trouble and needed a ride. I'd gone to the party with my friend, Lily. She had been a foster once too, but had been adopted. She was rebelling against her parents, punishing them for not being her real parents, and I told her she shouldn't drive, but she wouldn't listen. We fought and I refused to get in the car with her. I called Robert to come get me and…"

"Lily was the drunk driver?" Killian questioned, though the answer was clear from the way she'd told the story and the look on her face.

Swan nodded, tears finally breaking free over her lashes, and once again Killian fought against his instincts to reach out and offer her comfort, knowing she was too raw to accept it in that moment.

"I should have taken her keys or just gotten in the damn car with her. Maybe then…"

"It wasn't your fault, Swan," Killian insisted. "You did the right thing."

"Maybe, but even doing the right thing backfires on me, hurting those I care about. I had finally let myself believe life had given me a break, that I had a family to belong to - permanently - when-"

"They were going to adopt you," Killian remembered. "Why did Robert's death keep Ruth from-"

"I told Ruth not to go through with it," Emma told him, which made Killian balk. "I told her she should apply to be my foster parent instead. That way she could get the money the state would pay her for looking after me."

"Because the family no longer had Robert's income," Killian supplied as more jagged pieces of Emma's life fit themselves together. "But she didn't."

"No," Emma confirmed. "She didn't want me to think I was just a meal ticket," an aggrieved chortle fell over her lips and she confided, "which just made me feel worse somehow."

"So you left," Killian surmised, understanding all too well the compulsion to run when one's world fell apart. "And not long after…"

"Life kicked me in the teeth again," she quipped, clearly still wishing to avoid the subject of Neal Cassidy and everything that happened between her and the heir of the Gold family.

Killian couldn't deny how badly he wanted to know what had occurred between them, and not just because it could affect how things might progress that week. He wouldn't force her, though. Wouldn't risk sending her running from him when she had just begun trusting him enough to tell her tale for herself.

"Ruth had already passed on after you left prison, but I gather, since you had not done so prior to or during your incarceration, it was not you who reached out to reconnect with David?" he asked, circumventing the topic of her arrest and Neal's role in it.

Emma took a large swallow of the drink he'd poured for her earlier, having sipped on it little by little while they sat there quietly talking, then waved him off when he lifted the bottle, offering to pour her another.

"It was Ruth's birthday," she said wistfully. "About a year after my release. I'd gone to the cemetery to pay my respects and… I don't even know." She sighed with a heavy shrug of her shoulders. "I was standing there, in front of her and Robert's headstones, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun around to confront the person, and I found myself in a tight embrace with a hand cradling the back of my head." A soft smile ghosted over her lips. "I knew immediately it was David."

Again, Killian remained silent, wondering if David had been as understanding and patient with her as he was attempting to be while she justified why she hadn't contacted him or Ruth. Feeling she'd done enough to hurt them, that they'd be better off without her in their lives, not wanting to jeopardize David's career when she learned of his acceptance into Quantico, then not wishing to disappoint him with the new career she'd stumbled into.

"I'd only been working with Cleo for a few months," Emma continued on, telling him how she'd come to find herself working in bail bonds and then eventually as a bounty hunter. "She was… tough. Abrasive. Kind of a bitch," she admitted with a laugh - one he echoed. "But she knew her stuff and was good at what she did. She taught me a lot."

"What happened to her?" Killian asked, noting the use of past tense in Emma recitations.

Emma reached for his glass and polished off what remained before answering. "She died."

Once again, her tone and demeanor invited no further inquiry, so Killian turned them back to the matter of her reunion with David.

"After I got done answering his questions and telling him about my fledgling career in bail bonds, he insisted I could do better. Told me all the strings he could pull, all the chips he could cash in, all the things he could do to get me a better job, a decent job."

"He didn't think bail bonds was good enough?"

"He didn't like how grey the occupation was," Emma told him. "David thinks in black and white, and I grew up thinking that way, too. All the rules. All the don't do this and don't do that's. Be a good girl. Play fair. Don't do anything wrong and you won't get into trouble." Her eyes flashed as she caught his. "But you and I both know the world doesn't work that way. So did Cleo."

"She taught you how to live in the grey, to embrace it."

"Look out for yourself and you'll never get hurt," Emma quoted. "That was Cleo's motto."

"And look how well that worked out for her," Killian callously quipped, disturbed by the prospect that a similar mindset might cause his Swan to meet a similar fate. Resentment and hurt shadowed Emma's face, and Killian could sense her withdrawal. Before she could offer up a retort and storm out, he confided, "And it didn't much work for me either." Her eyes snapped back up to his, questions swirling in her gaze and pulling at her brows, but now was not the time for his tragic backstory. "Having others look out for you, to have your back and stand beside you, to be a part of something… it may not completely protect you from getting hurt, but it can provide you with a sense of assurance that you won't have to face the pain alone."

"David tried to tell me the same thing," she replied shortly, tension still sitting rigid in her shoulders. "At his wedding. He wanted me to move in with him and Mary Margaret. Be a family. Of course, that would mean giving up bail bonds and taking a job he'd set up for me while having M's and her friends helping me settle in."

"You don't strike me as the settling in type, and I can only imagine the torture that awaited you with endless book clubs and suburban ladies' nights." His impertinence achieved his goal, coaxing a half smile from her as her shoulders relaxed a bit more.

"You should see Mary Margaret," she mused with an air of fondness, despite the forthcoming remarks. "She's like a goddamn fairy tale princess come to life. She's so sweet and full of hope speeches. She actually calls David Charming… as in her Prince Charming." Finally relenting, she grabbed the bottle and poured herself another measure of alcohol before filling his glass as well. With a heavy hand, she set the bottle back down and admitted with a note of jesting, "I would hate her if she wasn't so wonderful."

Killian huffed in commiseration and swirled the liquid in his glass before bringing it to his lips. Flicking out his tongue to catch an errant drop, he met Emma's gaze and wouldn't deny the satisfaction it gave him to see her eyes fixated on the action at his mouth before forcing them to meet his.

"And that's why you keep them at arm's length," he empathized, pushing aside the ever present attraction that always seemed to simmer between them. "Because they exist in a world that is black and white, right and wrong, good and evil, while we revel in the freedoms the grey spectrum provides. They want to help you overcome your demons, and you don't have the heart to tell them you enjoy their company far too much to want to overcome them."

Emma's chest lifted with a heavy inhale and she looked as though she wanted to respond, but a knock at his door had her finishing the last of her drink instead.

"Enter," Killian called out, already anticipating who had come knocking and why.

"We are pulling into the harbour, boss," Hyde informed them. "We'll be ready to disembark soon, and the car is already waiting at the marina."

"Thank you, Hyde," Killian replied, waiting until the man had disappeared behind the closed door before he turned back to Swan. "Why don't you go get your things together and we can discuss the itinerary of the next few days in the car on our way to the hotel."

Emma nodded, a sense of relief washing over her, evident in the way her hand relaxed its grip on her glass and her expression softened into a grateful smile for the out he was giving her, not requiring she say anything more about her past, her brother, or her demons.

Standing, she tucked her hands into her back pockets and rocked back onto her heels. "Thanks for the drink, and the..." Her eyes flicked towards the door, her urge to run for it palpable. "Next time it'll be your turn to share. Don't think for a moment I'm going to forget all your cryptic little comments."

Killian gave her a devious smile, knowing it probably wouldn't hide his apprehension over having to expose himself as she had, and quipped, "I would despair if you did."