A/N: Thank you so much for all the likes and reviews! Yes, this story is loosely based off the movie The Prince and Me but with obvious changes. One of which is the presence of Neal and Henry. Fair warning this chapter is not kind to Neal, so if you love his character you may not like the first bit of the chapter. I'm still debating which way I want to go with his character, and I hope my final decision will be what blends best with this story, but that's still several chapters away though. Thanks again for reading and please let me know what you think!
(September)
Monday comes quicker than Emma would have liked. Between the events of Friday and Sunday, the weekend truly was not long enough. Her only bright spot to the weekend being over is that she has Henry back from Neal.
The arrangement she made with Neal when Henry was four and Neal had decided he wanted to be a dad was simple: he would be allowed to have Henry for one weekend during the third week of every month except for holidays. He would be responsible for picking Henry up from school on Friday afternoon and returning Henry to Emma's apartment Sunday afternoon.
The arrangement wasn't Emma's first choice. In truth, if she had it her way, Neal would not be in Henry's life at all. But when Neal popped back into her life two years ago, requesting to be a part of Henry's life now that his own life was 'in order,' Emma had conceded to their present custody agreement, if only for the sake of Henry getting the chance to know his father. The arrangement was the most Emma was comfortable with, no matter how much Neal's presence was a constant reminder that she would never be somebody's first choice; that Henry hadn't been his father's first choice.
Yet their agreement didn't stop Neal from requesting for further custody every so often when he came to drop Henry off at her apartment, as he had that Sunday. Neal stood, leaning in the threshold of Emma's front door - (no way in hell was he ever allowed in her apartment) - his hands in his pockets and wearing a mocking grin, "Come on Emma, why can't you let up on this once a month deal?"
Emma steeled her eyes upon the man she thought she once loved, when she was a lonely and besotted teenager eager for the loving affections of a man. As she was expecting him to inquire about further custody, she tightened her lips and arched her brow in what she hoped was a no-nonsense expression. "Absolutely not. You know the deal. That's as much of a concession as you will get from me."
She moved to close the door on him but Neal stepped with his left foot, effectively preventing the door from fully closing.
"Emma, please? Tamara really wants to get to know more of Henry and besides, I'm his father, I have a legal right to him." Neal was now openly trying to push the door open but he didn't have to give much effort, as Emma yanked the door open wide in that moment.
"Excuse me? Legal right? Of course you have a legal right to your son. You also had a legal right to your son when I was still pregnant, but you bailed on him then and only came crawling out of the wood work when it became convenient for you." Emma reined in her temper, trying to keep her voice down so Henry wouldn't overhear their argument from his bedroom. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "Look, you leaving me back then is not the issue." Neal's brow rose in disbelief but Emma refused to go down that road with him. "The issue is you might not be there for Henry in the future. You may be asking for more custody now but that may change in the future, especially if your fiancée decides your wedlock kid isn't worthy of being part of your family. I'm not taking that risk."
Neal shook his head and made a clicking sound with his tongue. He held up his hands in defense and took a step back. "Alright, I can see there's no getting through to you tonight. Whatever. I'll see him in three weeks." He turned on his heel and made his exit down the hallway. Emma cast her eyes to the ceiling and shut the door in exhaustion.
Yeah, so much for a restful weekend.
Shaking off the annoying memory, Emma grips Henry's hand tighter as they make their morning trek from the student parking lot to the university's childcare center. The campus may be designed as a commuter university but God bless the dean, president, alumnus, or donor who thought to create a childcare center for students to use as a form of support so they can continue with their education. The Red Apple Childhood Learning Center offers flexible hours, which Emma takes full advantage of. She's able to attend classes and go to work all while knowing Henry is being safely supervised and receiving his own quality education.
"Good morning Ms. Swan! Good morning Henry!" Belle, the angelic brunette and grammar teacher calls over to Emma and Henry once they enter the building.
"Good morning Ms. Belle!" Henry replies in his usual mode of functioning - all childhood innocence and happiness, with a pension for curiosity and learning. Sometimes Emma can't believe her sweet young boy is actually her own flesh and blood.
"I think you're going to like today's story time, Henry. It's about magic, mystery, heroes and villains. It even has pirates!" Belle takes Henry in her arms and begins swinging him about in a needless attempt to get him excited for the day. At the word 'magic' Henry had already been charmed.
"Alright little man, you be good for Ms. Belle and I'll see you later today, okay?" Emma leans over to give Henry a kiss on the cheek and ruffles his hair. She un-slings Henry's Avengers backpack from her shoulder and hands it to Belle. The grammar teacher gives Emma a nod and begins escorting Henry to the classrooms.
"Bye Mom!" Henry shouts enthusiastically over his shoulder. Emma waves and smiles after him until he is no longer in sight, before turning to make her exit and begin her own Monday morning.
-/-
Emma makes her way over to the library, the study alcove her routine destination before her eight o'clock class. She wants to use her time today to finish the final edits of a paper that is due later in the week. Why she is being forced to take The Early Plays of Shakespeare as an elective she can't recall. Something about fulfilling a literature requirement she never got around to during her first two years of core requirements. It's one thing to be a non-traditional senior sitting amongst freshman and sophomores. It is an entirely different matter when the freshman and sophomores are well versed in a subject that quite literally is a foreign language to her.
At least this morning she is warm and cozy in her sweater and jeans and not dripping with water from head to toe. It's the small victories that count.
Just as she is about to enter her study alcove, Emma is surprised to be passing by a sandy haired man wearing a green army jacket. Even more surprising, the man appears to actually be reading a book from one of the ancient tax law shelves. Before she can ponder the newcomer's appearance, she rounds the final corner and lets out an expletive under her breath.
The dark haired Englishman from Friday turns in his seat – Emma's seat – and arches a brow at her. Instead of gazing upon her with a look of curiosity as he had during their first encounter, his bright blue eyes are colored with mischief and he's grinning wildly. "Pardon?"
Apparently she hadn't expressed the expletive quite so subtly under her breath as she thought. Gathering herself, Emma takes a step back, pauses, and then proceeds to walk over to him, her shoulders full of determination and her eyes laced with irritation. "Did I not make myself clear on Friday? This is my spot."
"Clear as crystal darling, but I thought I should drop by and issue you an apology. Two to be exact."
Emma can't tare her gaze away from him. She assesses him for any hint of a lie but finds none. Despite his twinkling blue eyes, he appears to be telling the truth. Annoyed with herself for feeling both confused and curious about the man's intentions, she is quite literally at a loss for words. Realizing she's been staring – (unaware he's been returning her penetrating gaze) - Emma blinks and takes a step back. What was this guy's deal?
Recognizing Emma's hesitance, Killian stands and continues, "Allow me to clarify. My first apology is for vexing you so on Friday morning. It was not my intention to intrude and cause you any annoyance." Emma blinks and tilts her head, clearly ready to retort, but Killian offers up his hand in a placating gesture. "Please let me finish. My second apology is for spilling beer all over you on Friday evening. I hadn't seen you when I bumped into you. Bloody ungentlemanly of me and a bloody waist of good beer." Killian shifts his feet and scratches the back of his ear as if unsure of himself. "I've come to make it up to you today if you'll allow it."
He turns around and picks up a drink carrier that is sitting on the table. Emma inspects the two drinks sitting in the carrier and realizes they are coffee cups from Granny's Grinds. She arches a brow at him, waiting for him to explain himself.
Killian clears his throat and once more scratches behind his ear with his free hand. Emma notices his smug grin is gone, replaced with an abashed smile. "You mentioned Friday of not caring for the muck from downstairs our fine institution considers coffee, so I've brought you some from Granny's. Don't know if you ever been, but Granny's makes the best." He holds the drink carrier a little further out in front of him. "So love, what'll it be? Do you enjoy your coffee black as castor oil or spotted with milk? I'm afraid I didn't bring any sugar packets because I must say, if you take your coffee with sugar than you might as well not be drinking coffee."
A minute passes before Emma can fully process the exchange and come up with a response. The enticing aroma of the coffee is flooding her olfactory bulbs, tempting her, but should she take the offered coffee? It is a nice gesture, but a little too nice, no matter how handsome the Englishman is.
"What's the price?" She asks, shifting her gaze from the coffee to him.
"Price? No need to pay me back, love." Killian nods his head toward Emma, beckoning her to accept.
Emma shakes her head, "No, I mean what's the price if I accept the coffee? You must want something in return. People aren't ever generous unless they want something in return."
Killian assesses her resolute demeanor. If Friday's run-in was any indication, she is indeed a tough lass, but also guarded. He doesn't know in what way, but he knows to tread carefully, respectably. He doesn't want to offend her by any means. Quite the opposite; he does indeed want to get to know her, but he will not push himself on her or overstep his bounds. So he nods his head in gentle understanding and takes a small step forward. "That has been my experience as well, however I assure you the only price to be had is that you enjoy a delicious cup of coffee while studying. I assure you there is no ulterior motive here, but as the coffee is getting warm and it'd be a bloody waist for good coffee to go cold, you're going to have to try and trust me, love."
Emma squares her shoulders and exhales. He didn't even know her name and she'd forgotten his, but it was her favorite brand of coffee, though he didn't know that, and he was offering it to her for nothing, save trusting him. She hears the voices of Ruby and Elsa in her head, she pictures the snickering look of Neal, and she takes in the hopeful but nervous expression of the Englishman in front of her.
With her lie detector silent, her gut at ease instead of twisting in warning, she decides to take the risk. Extending her hand and offering up a small smile she asks, "May I have the one with milk, please?"
Killian's face lights up in a bright smile, "Of course, love" and hands her the coffee with milk.
Emma takes a small sip and can't help how her eyes close in pleasure. Damn if this isn't exactly what she needed all morning. "Thank you, um…"
"Killian, will do." A soft blush creeps across his cheeks and he hastily takes a sip of his own coffee to hide it.
Emma laughs lightly, glad that he hadn't taken offense to her forgetting his name from their first encounter, "Right, Killian." She takes another sip of the enticing coffee, swallows, and decides to take another leap. "Emma. My name is Emma Swan."
Killian smiles and bows his head slightly, overwhelmed yet ecstatic with this new information. "Pleasure to meet you, Swan." He takes another sip of his coffee and winks at her, delight coloring his eyes.
Emma smiles mirthfully in return, not sure if the use of her last name as a nickname should unsettle her, but also liking the way her name rolls of his accented tongue.
At that unexpected thought she clears her throat and replies hastily, "Right well, thank you again for the coffee."
Killian nods his head in agreement. Though he wants more time with her, he's thankful to have gotten this time with her and to have put a smile on her face with the coffee. "My pleasure Swan."
He picks up his messenger bag, slings it over his shoulder, and strides to exit the little alcove. Just as he clears the bookshelf he hears it. "See you around, Killian." He continues onward with a happy grin plastered on his face from ear to ear.