Thank you so much for sticking with me despite my slow updating. I very much appreciate it. And thank you to all you wonderful babes who take the time to review too. You make my heart sing. Muchos gracias to the vanilla to my coke, Irene, who has, as always, been my cheerleader throughout the writing of this chapter.

Your Case or Mine

Chapter 7

The first day was a bit of a blur. Emma and Killian had met at the station early, where David and Will, along with Killian's team, were waiting for them. They were debriefed for what felt like the hundredth time, and the GPS and recording devices in their inconspicuous SUV were checked and double checked, at the request of a clearly-anxious David.

"You might need these."

Will called out, following closely behind Emma as she and Killian made their way out to the parking lot. She turned and looked at the small jewellry box Will was holding out, a smirk on his lips, and rolled her eyes before snatching the box from him.

"You're gonna be insufferable this entire case, aren't you?"

She muttered under her breath, shooting him a withering glare.

"Well, it's not everyday your best friend gets fake married."

"Still not letting that best friend thing go, huh?"

She suppressed a chuckle, not wanting him to know that despite how much he irritated her sometimes, she still found him annoyingly endearing. Opening the little box and ignoring the way her heart stuttered in her chest at the sight of the three rings nestled inside, Emma tugged the largest of the rings free and held it out to Killian, hoping the heat on her cheeks wasn't too obvious.

He stared at it blankly for a moment before gently taking it from her. Clearing his throat, he quickly slipped it on his finger and Emma suppressed a smile. He was purposefully not making it into something, and she appreciated that, pulling her own rings out of the box and slipping them on.

Belle appeared then, laptop in-hand, and turned the screen to face them. It was split into four boxes, each with an image of a room and an audio wave, all currently flat lines.

"So, the living room, kitchen, bedroom and front hallway are all hooked up with tiny security cameras and microphones. They're well-hidden, and there'll be someone monitoring them twenty-four-seven so if anything's amiss, you'll be alerted via text."

Emma frowned, folding her arms.

"Which bedroom? Why not both?"

"Both?"

It was Belle's turn to look confused, and a sinking feeling settled in Emma's stomach as Graham approached them, having heard the exchange. He was manning the fort as unit chief while Killian was undercover, and he was taking the task very seriously, which was somewhat comforting for both Emma and Killian.

"You'll be sharing a bedroom, Detective Swan," he said matter-of-factly, "We believe the unsub observed his victims prior to the attacks, and we have no reason to think he'll deviate from his routine at this point. If he observes you and Killian sleeping in different beds, it'll only rouse suspicion or create the impression of an unhappy marriage. And that could well cause him to move on to a different victim."

Emma knew that what he was saying made perfect sense, but she couldn't help the way her pulse was stuttering with dread at the idea of sharing a bed with Killian again, regardless of the reason. It was one thing to have sex, but to actually sleep beside someone...that was a whole new level of intimacy and required a vulnerability that terrified Emma in every way. But while a war was raging in her head, she managed to feign nonchalance and simply shrugged.

Killian was eying her warily and she could sense Will was desperately holding back comments that would no doubt cause her to elbow him in the ribs. Thankfully, he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut as she levelled a glare on him, and instead nodded toward the car that was waiting for them.

"Yer carriage awaits, Swan. Off you go. Enjoy married life! Oh, wait, I forgot to give you something. Wait here."

He scurried over to his own car and retrieved a grocery bag, practically bouncing back over and handing it to her with a shit-eating grin on his face. She scowled at him, suspicious and took the bag, peering inside.

A carrier of six bottles of beer and a box of condoms were apparently his parting gift to her. This time, she did elbow him in the ribs.

CS

Once they arrived at their new residence, Killian pulling the SUV into the driveway and killing the engine, he looked up at the house and sighed. They didn't have a set time for this mission, and they could end up living as fake husband and wife for months, potentially. It would all depend on how long it took to lure their unsub out and catch his attention, and they were all hoping it wouldn't take too long, keen to put the son-of-a-bitch behind bars where he belonged. The files were planted at the group home thanks to Regina's cooperation, everything was in place, and now it was simply a case of putting on a convincing enough show as a loving couple and playing the waiting game.

"That was a hell of a sigh," Emma commented, raising an eyebrow, "Not looking forward to married life in our cute little suburban white picket fenced house?"

There was heavy sarcasm in her tone, and Killian knew all too well that she was using it to cover her own trepidations. He'd seen the uncertainty and fear flash in her eyes numerous times that morning already. He may have only known her a short time, but she was an open book to him, and not just because of his profession. There was a connection between them, no matter how determined she seemed to fight it, and though he'd only been afforded glimpses into her story, and the difficult past that had shaped her. He felt that, on some level, he instinctively just knew her.

He'd never say such a thing out loud, of course. She was easily spooked, that much was obvious. She hadn't wanted to stick around and spend the night with him the first time around, and now she was going to be in a situation in which sleeping with him (in the non-biblical sense) was a part of the deal. And apparently a part of the deal that she hadn't initially counted on.

He was going to do his best to make things as easy and comfortable as possible, but he could sense her wariness around him at the best of times. And now they'd have to add enforced closeness to their working relationship. But they'd both signed up for it, and it was for the greater good, so they'd have to make the best of the situation.

Forcing a smile, he chuckled humorlessly.

"It'll be an honor to be your fake husband, Swan."

Emma rolled her eyes and climbed out of the car, detouring to the trunk to grab their bags. As she was slinging one over her shoulder, a voice made her jump.

"Hey, new neighbor! We were wondering when you guys would arrive! We saw the trucks moving you in; welcome to the neighborhood! I'm Aurora Andreou, and this is my husband, Phillip."

Emma tried not to wince at Aurora's overly peppy tone, and managed to force a convincing fake smile and awkward wave as Killian appeared, much to her relief. He slipped an arm around her waist, and she reminded herself not to stiffen at the casually intimate gesture, while he gave the neighbors a cheery grin and a wave of his own.

"Nice to meet you both. I'm Killian Jones, and this is my wife, Emma."

He didn't offer anything more and Emma stifled a laugh at the expectant look on Aurora's face. There were many reasons she felt like she'd never possibly fit in with the people they now had as neighbors, and one of the main ones was the fact that they seemed so intent on knowing everything about those living around them. They hadn't even stepped foot into their new house yet, and already one perfectly-polished couple were expecting their life stories.

Emma was intensely private and wasn't used to sharing pieces of herself, nevermind oversharing, especially to strangers. She'd spent her entire life alone, and had only really formed two close relationships that hadn't backfired spectacularly, with David and Will. She didn't let people in without a fight, and she certainly didn't bare her soul to people she'd only just met.

But she was playing a role now. She wasn't orphaned, broken, dysfunctional Emma, the homicide detective now. She was happily married, new homeowner Emma, the social worker. And she had to try and force herself into that mindset, despite feeling completely lost in her new identity.

Clearing her throat, she nodded toward their neighbor's house.

"Uh...that's a very nice...manicured lawn you have there."

She called, hoping that would pass as a normal compliment in the suburbs. Judging by the way Phillip's face lit up, she'd passed with flying colors.

"Isn't it just! Our gardener is a magician. I have a little bit of a green thumb myself, but I leave the artistry out front to the professional. You guys should come over for dinner one evening, we'd love to tell you all about the area and make you feel welcome."

Killian's whispered "bloody hell" under his breath had Emma desperately trying not to crack up, but he kept a bright smile on his face and nodded.

"Aye, that sounds wonderful. Once we've settled in, we'll happily take you up on that offer," both Phillip and Aurora beamed at them as Killian canted his head back toward their new home, "We best get unloading, but it was wonderful to meet you both."

As the overly-enthusiastic neighbors disappeared back into their house, and Emma and Killian finally made it inside theirs, Killian shut the front door with a heavy thud...and Emma immediately burst into fits of laughter.

"Christ, Jones, I almost lost it when he said they had a gardener. And you just landed us with a dinner invitation already!"

Her laughter was infectious and Killian couldn't help the amusement bubbling in his chest as he watched her doubled over.

"And I almost lost it when you complimented their lawn, Swan? How much Real Housewives have you been watching as homework this week?"

After a solid three minutes of laughing until their sides hurt, the pair finally managed to compose themselves. Emma wiped her eyes with the back of her shirt sleeve and shook her head.

"I haven't laughed that hard in way too long."

Killian grinned and quirked an eyebrow.

"Well, that seems like a positive start to our partnership, love. I'll admit, I never imagined I'd be in fits of laughter at any point during this mission, but it's a welcome surprise."

Emma smiled somewhat shyly at him then, throwing in an eye roll to alleviate the sudden flutter of nerves that had quickened her pulse. The way Killian looked at her, as though he really saw her, always seemed to have that immediate effect. It had activated her fight or flight response (or more accurately, her flight response) on previous occasions, but the instinct to shut him out and back away was becoming less pronounced the more time she spent in his presence. And that was what truly scared her.

Quickly turning and gathering herself, Emma dropped her bag on the chair beside the front door and finally took in her surroundings. The house was a beautiful Colonial style family home. Hardwood floors, a big galleried hallway with an impressive staircase set off to the left, and open-plan arches leading through to a generously-sized living room.

Emma gave a low whistle as she walked through the tastefully decorated living room to the dining area, which in turn led to the kitchen, a large family-style affair with white panelling and quartzite counters, a central island for all the cooking she didn't plan to be doing, and another dining area.

Large French windows overlooked a simple deck, connected to the house via a mudroom, and edged with a well-kept, tree-lined lawn. As she wandered further, raising her eyebrows as she came upon another living room, muttering about the ridiculousness of needing two of everything, Killian seemed to be doing his own checks, testing the soundness of the windows and doors and inspecting locks.

Emma chuckled and shook her head at his down-to-business approach. Perhaps he was used to extravagant houses like this, but she sure as hell wasn't. Most of the foster homes she'd grown up in had been conservatively sized and packed with as many kids as a foster family was allowed. The kids were their paychecks, so their comfort was an afterthought. She'd often ended up sharing a bedroom with half a dozen other kids, and on occasion she didn't even have a proper bed to call her own.

So to be handed a beautiful, furnished family home, the type she'd never even dreamed she'd step foot in, nevermind live in, was a jarring experience. She was well aware that it was temporary, and that the whole reason they were there was because they had a job to do, but she still couldn't help but wander around her new "home" in a state of slightly stunned awe.

Grabbing her bag again, she called out to Killian that she was going to unpack her stuff, and ventured up the stairs. A large gallery landing connected to all the second floor rooms, and Emma picked one at random to explore. She had no idea where their bedroom was located, but she was eager to explore and find out...even if the thought of it being their bedroom still made her pulse fly into a mild state of panic.

The room she walked into was a small study, complete with a contemporary wooden desk in the center of the room and bookshelves in a matching wood finish lining one wall. Other than that and a comfy chair in one corner and an oversized rug covering most of the floor, it was a minimalist room. Emma shut the door behind her as she ventured to the next room.

Definitely their bedroom, she mused, as she wandered into a large bedroom with its own open living room area, two walk-in closets (because sure, why wouldn't they need an entire room each to store clothes) and a spacious ensuite bathroom attached. She found herself shaking her head in disbelief as she stuck her head into the ensuite to inspect the goods. A huge floor-to-ceiling glass shower and a freestanding soaking bathtub bookended the room, with a long vanity and mirror taking up most of one wall. Emma was pretty sure most of her own apartment could comfortably fit inside the master bedroom and ensuite alone.

"Did you know we have a home gym in the basement?"

Emma almost jumped out of her skin when Killian's voice suddenly came from behind her, and her hand immediately went to her heart.

"Holy shitting motherfucker. Can you yodel or something next time?"

Killian chuckled and scratched his ear.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Having fun exploring?"

"Yeah, I feel like a kid in IKEA. This place is insane. There are two living rooms downstairs and one here. Why do we even need a living room in the bedroom? And why do we need two entire rooms as closets? And we have a gym? Like an actual functioning one or is it just a treadmill in a corner? Because if you're classing a treadmill as a home gym, then I've got one of those too, so touché rich people."

Killian laughed again, shaking his head at her rambling and finally dropping the bag he was carrying onto the bed.

"Actual gym. Two of everything, of course," he smirked at her eye roll, "All the more reason for us to order pizza tonight."

It was Emma's turn to laugh as she dropped down gracelessly onto one of the sofas.

"You know that just because there's a gym in the house, it doesn't magically do all the work for you while you eat your own body weight in pizza."

"So we're cooking tonight?"

"Hell no. We're ordering pizza."

CS

After unpacking the few essential belongings they'd brought with them, and finishing their exploration of their new living arrangements, Emma decided it was probably about time to check in with David. He answered the phone on the second ring, and she had the distinct feeling he'd been restlessly checking his phone ever since they drove away from the station that morning.

"Just checking in, dad," she joked, "We're unpacked and we've met some of the neighbors already. They seem very...suburban."

"By which you mean pushy and overly friendly to disguise being nosy?" She made a sound of agreement at his assessment and he continued, "And is everything alright in the house?"

Emma rolled her eyes and bit back a sassy and sarcastic comment about how terribly unsafe she felt in one of the safest neighborhoods in Boston, but she held her tongue. She knew he cared about her like family, and she'd never had that before, so her instinctive reaction was to scoff at it and insist she could take care of herself. But this time she didn't.

"Killian's done a sweep and checked all the doors and windows are secure. Everything looks good. I'll never understand why rich people need two or more of every room though. Did you know our bedroom has its own living room? What's that about?"

David was silent for a moment before he gave a short laugh. She could envision him shaking his head at her and smiled at the mental image.

"I really would rather not think about your sleeping arrangements, Emma. I pushed for separate rooms, which I know you would've been more comfortable with. But the FBI laid out pretty clearly why that could jeopardize the ruse."

"It's alright," Emma quickly interjected, "I can handle it. It's not like I haven't shared a bed before. It's not a big deal."

David mumbled something she didn't quite catch before clearing his throat and asking her if they had food in the house. She informed him of their plan to order pizza and he tsk'd at her terrible dietary habits, as he usually did. She defended her choices and made it known that pizza had been Killian's idea.

After another ten minutes or so of idle chat, Emma knew he was probably just keeping her on the phone for his own peace of mind, and she let him have that much, until Killian appeared in the kitchen doorway, mouthing to her that he was wasting away from malnutrition. She rolled her eyes at him and drew the conversation with David to a close. He reluctantly acquiesced and they hung up, Emma tossing the phone to Killian so he could call and place their order.

It didn't take all that long for the food to arrive, and they opted to set up camp in the second living room, so they didn't feel like they were being watched by whoever was manning the cameras back at the station. Emma didn't really fancy the idea of David or Graham or even Will, sat there awkwardly watching them eat pizza.

She wondered if the presence of the cameras and microphones would be something they'd both remain acutely aware of or if the feeling of being on some screwed-up reality TV show would fade the longer they spent living there. And while part of her hoped for the latter, she also didn't relish the idea of spending a significant amount of time wearing their fake identities. She was here to do a job, after all. And if they had to spend longer undercover, it meant their killer was still out there longer too.

"I'll grab plates."

Killian threw over his shoulder, as he headed for the kitchen.

"You eat takeout on plates? Do you use a knife and fork to eat pizza too?"

She called after him, teasingly. When he reappeared, he was carrying two plates and two beers, and she hummed in thanks as he handed one of the bottles to her.

"My brother used to eat pizza with cutlery," he chuckled, a faraway look in his eyes and a small, sad smile on his lips as he dropped down onto the sofa next to her, "I'd always tease him mercilessly for it."

Emma chewed on her bottom lip, studying him for a moment as she tried to decide how to reply to something that was decidedly a personal topic.

"Your brother still live in England?"

She finally asked as she popped the top off her beer and took a swig. Killian shifted on the sofa and leaned forward to grab a slice of pizza from the box, placing it on his plate before answering her.

"No...he passed a few years back," he saw Emma's eyes widen in horror and gave her a soft smile, "It's alright, love. He did live back in England before he died. His passing was one of the reasons I moved to the States for good. He and I were...well, we had our differences, but we were the only family each other had. And I did love the self-righteous bastard. He always thought he knew what was best for me, and I suppose he did, a lot of the time, because he'd practically raised me since I was a lad."

Emma was watching him intently, her pizza seemingly forgotten. He nodded toward the box.

"You going to eat any of that, Swan?"

She gave a start as she realized she'd been so intent on listening to him that she hadn't even grabbed her first slice yet. Ducking her head, embarassed, she grabbed a slice and sat back onto the sofa, taking a bite before she turned the topic back to him.

"You didn't have parents, then?"

She asked carefully, trying not to sound too interested in his reply. He already knew she grew up in the system and she felt like she was at a distinct disadvantage with how little she knew about him.

"Our mother died when I was four years old, and our father decided that having two sons to take care of was just too much like hard work. He left when I was nine, and Liam, my brother, was fourteen. Just...disappeared in the middle of the night with naught more than a note on the kitchen table that said "Sorry". I've not seen or heard from him since, and I have no wish to do so, frankly."

Emma stared at him, unused to being handed such weighty and personal confessions and having no idea what she could possibly respond with.

"I'm sorry…" she said softly, immediately cringing at how lame it sounded.

"It's quite alright, love. It's actually nice to talk about it with someone, to be honest. I don't talk about my past much."

"Yeah, me either," Emma quickly agreed, shaking her head and taking a big gulp of beer before averting her eyes down to the bottle, "I was uh...my parents left me at the side of a highway with nothing but a baby blanket with my name on it. They didn't even give a shit enough to abandon me at a hospital or something. Just tossed me to the side of the road like trash."

She swallowed the bitterness forming a lump in her throat, scowling as she picked at the label on her beer.

"Well they were idiots, Swan. Just as my father was. I was fortunate enough that my brother stepped up and kept us under the radar well enough that the authorities didn't find out we were parentless until Liam was already 18 and legally able to be my guardian."

Emma smiled ruefully.

"Yeah, your brother did you a solid there. I don't know what it's like in England, but here, the system sucks. I was with a family for three years when I was a baby, but then they had their own kid and they didn't need me anymore. So back into the system I went. I was bounced around dozens of foster homes after that, most of which I ran away from multiple times, and I lived on the streets for a bit when I was ten. It was better than dealing with the abusive fucks who just saw foster kids as meal tickets," Emma shook her head, trying to clear the unwelcome memories of her childhood, "It can't have been easy though, for you and your brother. He must have loved you a lot to step up like that."

It was Killian's turn to avert his gaze. Listening to her talk about her childhood had pulled at his heart, and he'd wanted nothing more than to close the space between them on the sofa and pull her into his arms. But he didn't think that course of action would have been welcomed, so he held back.

"Aye. He loved me fiercely, and I him. He sacrificed a lot in order to keep us together, and I took a lot of that for granted. I was fortunate that he had his head screwed on from an early age. I was a bit of a loose cannon in my early teens. Must've driven Liam mad. So, he was more surprised than anyone when I announced that I was following him into the Navy. I suppose it was my way of keeping our family together, at that point, even if I didn't fully realize it."

Emma was listening intently again, elbow leaned against the back of the sofa, hand cradling her chin and her body turned toward him. The pizza had been going cold for awhile, but neither of them really cared.

"It must have been nice to have someone you just knew loved you no matter what."

She said quietly, a far-away longing in her eyes that made him pause. He was well aware that she rarely let people in, and he could easily tell when her guard was up; her shoulders set, and her gaze suspicious and wary. But right now, those walls she kept around her had fallen a little, and he was seeing the side of her that she kept hidden from the world behind her tough exterior of red leather and sarcasm.

"You've never had that? I'd say Dave cares for you deeply. And Will."

Emma frowned, nodding thoughtfully.

"Yeah, but that's...different, I guess. They're like family, but they're not. If that makes any sense," she sighed in frustration, struggling to articulate her thoughts, "I've never had real family. I don't know where I came from or if I look like one of my parents, or if I have a brother or sister somewhere in the world. Sometimes it just feels like I've never belonged anywhere. I've made a life for myself in Boston, and I love my job and that I'm finally in a good place now. But I think it must be nice to feel connected to someone that understands you and really knows you...and still loves you anyway."

A heavy silence settled between them as they both digested Emma's words. The conversation had suddenly become very deep, and yet for once, Emma didn't feel the urge to change the subject and back away. It felt liberating to talk to someone about thoughts she usually buried deep down.

Finally, Killian spoke, his voice tentative and unsure.

"Have you ever been in love?"

The question rattled her, her pulse thundering loudly in her ears for a moment and her gaze darting up to meet his. He was watching her with such an open and earnest expression that she found herself swallowing thickly.

"No, I…" she paused, long enough to take a fortifying drink, "That's a lie. I have. Once. But it wasn't...he broke my heart. He never loved me, and he screwed me over, because I was a naive asshole and believed every damn word that came out of his lying mouth."

She threw back the last of her beer and reached forward to place the empty bottle down on the coffee table with shaking hands. She'd never told anyone about Neal, not even David or Will. He was just a sore subject that she'd locked away and never brought up again since he'd walked out of her life.

"Then he was an idiot too."

Killian said, and she could hear the gentle note of indignant anger in his tone, making her look up at him in surprise. He was looking right back at her, the same sincere expression on his face that he'd had before. It made her want to tell him everything, and she wanted that to scare her. It always had before. Her hands were still trembling, so she knotted them together, debating about whether to go and grab another bottle of beer just so she had something to occupy her nervous hands.

"He set me up to take the hit for a crime he'd committed. I went to prison" when Killian's eyebrows shot up, Emma felt her cheeks grow hot with shame, "I was only just seventeen, but I'd been stealing candy bars and chips from K-Marts since I was a little kid, seeing as some foster homes barely fed us or withheld food as punishment. And that yellow bug of mine...I stole that when I was sixteen. Probably shouldn't admit to that now. But anyway...I got eleven months and less than a month in, I found out I was pregnant."

"Christ, Emma…"

Killian whispered, his heart aching for her, the lost girl in front of him who'd never known what love was supposed to be. Her walls and her wariness all made sense, given how badly she'd been burned in the past. And he found himself wanting five minutes alone in a room with everyone who had ever hurt her.

"I couldn't keep the kid. Obviously," Emma continued, her gaze distant, "I couldn't even feed myself or keep a roof over my own head, nevermind provide for a kid. I wanted him to have his best chance, and that wasn't with me...so I gave him up. All I could do was hope that he'd have a better life than I'd had, and that he'd be adopted quickly. I never even got to hold him. I still think about him all the time though; he'll be ten now. And I wonder if he looks like me at all. If he has my chin or my eyes. If he's stubborn like me or likes cinnamon with his hot chocolate. It's stupid, I know..."

"It's not stupid," Killian said firmly, suddenly closer than he had been before, "It's not stupid at all. You loved him, and you did the hardest thing anyone can do for someone they love. You let him go. If he's anything like you, he'll be a strong, smart, brave lad."

Hot tears slipped from the corners of Emma's eyes and she blinked quickly, sniffling a nervous laugh with a shake of her head. Killian instinctively reached out and cupped her face with both hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs and pausing when she didn't immediately pull away from him.

Instead, she stared at him, her breath caught in her throat at the sudden closeness. Her heart was pounding, but her eyelashes fluttered, gaze dropping momentarily to his lips and her mouth suddenly dry.

"Emma…"

He murmured, a husky note of warning to his voice that had a shiver shooting up her spine. She knew full well that she should back off. They weren't even twenty-four hours into their undercover job and already they were towing a line she was well aware could compromise the entire thing.

She'd lay in her bed the night before, after he'd left her apartment, and promised herself she wouldn't let this exact situation occur. And she hadn't even lasted a day. Because here she was, willingly walking into it and her head and heart had no intention of backing off, despite her head screaming at her that this was a bad idea.

He seemed to be waiting for her to make a move, unwilling to push her and take something he wasn't completely sure she wanted. He'd witnessed how jittery she could be, had experienced the icy shut-out from her after their one-nighter last time, and he wouldn't take advantage by pressing forward and making the decision for her.

"Fuck, just kiss me already."

She whispered, closing the space between them and pressing her lips firmly to his. He reacted straight away, one hand sliding into her hair and holding her gently, while the other remained on her cheek. She touched her tongue to his lips and he immediately opened for her, his tongue eagerly meeting hers and his answering groan causing heat to pool low in her belly, igniting memories of the last time he'd made those noises for her.

Her heart was pounding so fast it was making her dizzy, and she tried to deepen the kiss further, but he held her off, slowing it down and driving her crazy. But no matter what tricks she tried to get him to pick up the pace and indulge her need for a dirty and desperate make-out, he wouldn't give in. His lips were slow and gentle, kissing her deeply and thoroughly, no rush to his movements.

It unnerved her a little, because she wasn't used to a man taking so much care with her, holding her and kissing her like she was made of something precious. Like she mattered on a level that was so much more than physical.

"Killian…"

She mumbled into his kiss, able to hear the desperation in her own voice as she pleaded with him, despite not really knowing what she was asking for.

He pressed a few more quick kisses to her lips, one hand still in her hair and the other now thumbing the dimple in her chin, before reluctantly pulling back and resting his forehead against hers, his breath coming out in harsh pants.

"Bloody hell…"

"You were holding back on me. I know how you kiss."

She accused, voice still barely above a whisper, and he finally opened his eyes, letting go of her and leaning back a little to properly meet her gaze.

"I won't take advantage of you, Emma."

She frowned, frustration swirling in her gut as she stared at him, lips kiss-bruised and her heart still racing, her body so keyed-up it felt like prickles of electricity were dancing under her skin.

"How is it taking advantage if I kissed you first? Don't patronize me-"

"Bloody hell, I'm not patronizing you. I just...you opened up to me about your past, you let yourself be vulnerable even though I'm well aware that's not something you're comfortable with-"

"It was a mistake. I'm sorry. We shouldn't have-...I shouldn't have kissed you. I shouldn't have told you all that shit. We're here to do a job and this," she gestured between them, "could royally screw everything up. And now you're gonna look at me like...like you're looking at me right now. I don't want your pity, so spare me."

She stood up abruptly, gathering the forgotten pizza box and the empty beer bottles with shaking hands and heading for the kitchen. Killian sighed in exasperation, scrubbing a hand over his face and hating the fact that he could practically see her walls going back up. One step forward, two steps back.

"I don't pity you. I admire you."

He called after her, a heavy feeling sitting in his chest, but she didn't turn back. He sat there on the sofa, waiting for her to return, knowing that following her through to the kitchen would only set her on the defensive and likely lead to raised voices and more frustration. So he waited.

She didn't come back. Instead, he heard her padding upstairs, and then silence. With a growl of frustration, he leaned back on the sofa, scrubbing both hands over his face this time. She was infuriating, but he understood her better now. She'd known more pain and heartache in a few short decades than most people did in a lifetime, and shutting people out was her way of coping. A defense mechanism. He'd managed to find a way under her armor, and he'd gotten under her skin, as she'd previously admitted.

But she'd mistaken his desire not to take advantage of her in a vulnerable state as something negative. She saw pity when there was none. And she'd pushed him out again in response to that.

Taking his time switching off all the lights downstairs, Killian eventually headed upstairs, hoping he'd given Emma enough time by herself that his presence wouldn't feel oppressive. The lights in their room were off, and he did consider retreating to one of the guest bedrooms, unsure of whether climbing into bed next to her after the way their night had ended would be such a good idea.

But he glanced up in the direction of the tiny camera nestled somewhere on the bookshelf facing their bed and sighed, shaking his head and remembering what Graham had said. He went to the bathroom and changed quickly into his dark grey sleep pants, discarding his clothes into the laundry basket and taking his time brushing his teeth.

When he climbed into bed, Emma was lying on her side, facing away from him, and he couldn't tell whether or not she was already sleeping.

"Goodnight, Swan."

He said softly, just in case she was struggling to sleep the way he knew he no doubt would. There was no response.

CS

Things are getting interesting now! More with the actual case next chapter too. This one was mostly getting them situated in their new undercover life! And there'll be more from their delightful neighbors too. Ten points if you got the obscure British royal family reference with their last name.

(Fun fact: Disney's Prince Phillip was named after Prince Phillip, Duke of Edinburgh. His full name, prior to becoming Prince Consort, was formerly Philippos Andreou of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderberg-Glücksburg, Prince of Greece and Denmark.)