Sorry for the delay in posting this one. My laptop broke down and it took me a while to save for a replacement.

"That's all from us tonight," Killian declared, shifting a little in his seat with the anticipation of getting out of it, "but the news continues now when I hand it over to Graham for the Night Shift. Graham?"

Graham's face suddenly appeared on the screen next to his own, beaming brightly.

"Thank you, Jones," his friend declared, and Killian reached out to grip the edges of his news desk, ready to push himself out of his seat.

"Is the beard here to stay?" Graham asked, completely catching him off guard. Unbidden, Killian's hand flew up to stroke over the stubble covering his cheeks and chin. "We were all placing bets on how long it would take you to shave it off, but you're kinda making it work."

Killian chuckled awkwardly as he turned his eyes down to the desktop and the notes he'd made throughout the evening. "Yeah, it's, uh… a friend told me to keep it, so I thought I'd see how long the Powers That Be would let me do so."

"Oh, I don't think you need to worry about that," Graham chuckled. "I've seen the articles you've been generating all week, and I'm sure they have too." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Killian was positive that at that moment, even under all the makeup he wore on-screen, his face would have been bright red.

Graham must have decided to take pity on him – either that or his producer was screaming in his ear – as he said, "Have a good weekend, brother, and I'll see you bright and early Monday morning for our little road trip."

"Have a good weekend," Killian offered. He watched as his feed was cut, and Graham began the opening for his show, before he finally pushed himself out of his chair.

As he'd expected, at least a dozen new messages were waiting for him, but Killian simply stuffed his phone into his pocket as he headed for the control room and a quick debriefing before he could finally get home.

It hadn't taken him long on Monday evening to learn never to open one of Emma's messages during a commercial break. While his friend had sent him legitimate commentary on the issues he'd been discussing, and had asked a fair few questions about policies she didn't understand, her commentary and questions had been made around messages such as;

Is it wrong to be so aroused watching you like this?

It had taken Killian far too long to pull himself together after seeing that, and he'd been forced to slip his phone under the desk for the rest of his show. After that night, he'd learned to keep his phone under the desk from the moment he stepped into the studio until the moment he had his office door securely locked behind himself.

Unfortunately, that plan had come with one incredibly huge flaw – his time with Emma once he'd finished work was now painfully limited. Killian strongly suspected that she'd been trying her hardest to stay awake for him as long as she possibly could, but by the time he made it home, she was often fast asleep, and he would have to wait until he woke the next morning to speak with her again. That evening, however, would be different.

Emma had spent most of her Friday packing up her small apartment in Cambridge, ready for her move back to Trinity College the following week. The whole process had exhausted her pretty quickly, and she'd taken a nap in the early evening that had lasted far longer than she'd planned. Killian had been a little disappointed at first because he thought he'd lost even more of their precious time together. Emma, however, had other plans. Sleeping for so long during the day meant that she was now wide awake, and she'd been quick to suggest another Skype session when he was finished with his show.

So, after talking through the night's broadcast with his team and agreeing to a Sunday morning meeting time, Killian headed back to his office to change as quickly as humanly possible. The instant he had his door closed and locked behind himself, he pulled out his phone to check his messages.

Once again, Emma had sent her thoughts on the evening's discussions along with a few questions that he would happily answer for her. But it was the last message in the thread that made his heart pound a little faster.

How big is that chair at your desk?

Because when you lounge in it like that, all I can think about is the way you let me ride you that night in Peillon.

Killian's fingers fumbled over his screen as he attempted to tap out a response he hoped wouldn't kill her vibe.

I'm sure we could find a way to make it work for both of us.

He loosened his tie and dropped down onto the small futon at the back of his private dressing room, trying not to allow his mind to go where she had suggested. He wanted to make the most of his time with her, which meant he couldn't afford to waste any of it hiding in his office until he was more… presentable to the general public. So in an attempt to keep himself focused, he turned his attention to changing out of his suit.

While he tended to wear his sneaker whenever he was alone in the studio, the glass his desk was made from meant he couldn't get away with wearing his favorite jeans too. There had been plenty of nights when Killian had made the journey home in his suit, but the bike ride was always much easier without it.

He was just pulling off his slacks when his phone buzzed with another notification, and Killian abandoned his pants with one leg still stuck inside them to read Emma's reply.

Have you ever had sex in there before?

God no!

There had never been anyone remotely close to interesting him in the office, and even if there had been, Killian would never ruin a professional relationship by making things personal.

He shook off the thought of sex with one of his female coworkers as he finished pulling off his pants and folded them carefully to drop into his bag. After a week's use, they'd need to be taken to the dry cleaner tomorrow morning. Killian reached up to finish unknotting his tie and whipped it off just as Emma's response came through.

So you're not a fan of the idea?

Because I'm not gonna lie, the thought of fucking you in a place where you deliver news all across the world is insanely sexy to me.

I wonder how much room there is under that desk…

Killian swallowed hard as he sank back down to his couch, half-naked and suddenly half-hard. Images of Emma's long blonde hair flowing over her naked back as she bounced relentlessly on his lap in that red leather seat were all he could see, and the idea of sex at his place of work was suddenly much more appealing than it ever had been before.

Or, if you'd rather take control again, you could always bend me over that desk while you tell me the day's news.

"Fuck," he hissed, as the image in his mind shifted smoothly to the visual she'd just described. Her perfect breasts pressed into the glass of his desk, with his notes sitting only inches away from them. The end of her braid wrapped around his fist as he used it to lift her head so that she could stare directly into the camera opposite them. Her hands braced against the desk to try and find some leverage to push back into his thrusts because even when she gave him the illusion of control, he knew she still held it all, and he wouldn't change a damned thing about it.

Killian had never really been big on sexual fantasies before, but this… this was going straight to the top of his list.

You know you're not making it easy for me to get home any faster tonight, right?

I do.

That's your punishment for not telling me about your road trip when we spoke on Monday!

"So, are you finally gonna tell me about this trip you're taking?"

Killian chuckled as he climbed back into bed and threw the duvet over the lower half of his body. Lily was still mad because he'd shut her out of his room again at the start of the night, but he knew she'd come around sometime soon. The last thing he wanted to do was haul himself out of bed, half-asleep, in the middle of the night, just to let her in.

"It's nothing," he explained, as he picked up his laptop and set it down gently on his thighs. "Monday's the first Presidential Debate. Graham and I have been asked to cover it live, and as it's fairly local, he offered to drive us both out there."

"That makes sense," Emma mused, nodding her head to some unspoken question.

"In what way?" he chuckled.

"Well, from what I can tell, you guys are probably the most qualified to cover it, you have the best ratings for the network, and you both work the sex appeal angle. It's a no-brainer, really."

"Nobody watches the news for the sex appeal, Emmy," he mumbled, his face already flushing bright red at her words.

"Really?" she deadpanned. "You can't think of anyone you know who watches the news every night for your sex appeal?"

"I thought you only wanted me for my brain," Killian challenged, and the sound of her laughter was perhaps the second-best sound he'd heard all evening.

"Well played, Jones," she praised, when she'd finally calmed back down. She then smoothly steered the conversation back to their original point. "So, how long is the drive gonna be?"

Emma was stretched out under the sheets in her tiny little bed in Cambridge, with her head propped on one hand and her laptop wedged into the space between her pillow and the chest of drawers. She looked soft and sleepy, sated and so very beautiful that it almost pained Killian to watch her. He couldn't understand how the sexy seductress that had gladly talked him through his newest fantasy and one hell of an orgasm could be the same person who now looked so small and lonely in her tiny bed.

"It's, uh… it's only about forty minutes away. Hofstra University."

"I have no idea what that is," she chuckled, but her laughter was abruptly cut off by a small yawn – and it wasn't her first of the night.

"I've, uh, I've actually never been there myself, but if you text me your address in the morning, I'll send you a postcard or something from the campus store."

"How very old-fashioned of you. I'll hold you to that, Jones."

For a moment, a comfortable silence settled between the two of them. Killian was tempted to use it to wrap up their call so Emma could get some much-needed sleep, but the thought of letting her go again so soon wasn't one he enjoyed.

"You know, we've had Skype sex twice in the last week, and you still haven't shown me your apartment," she said suddenly, and Killian chuckled a little at the randomness of her train of thought. "You made me show you the crappy little flat I'm moving out of next week, so why haven't I seen yours yet? Is it really masculine and cold?"

"It's, uh… it's cozy," he defended, casting a look around his bedroom.

The walls were a little stark and bare, but the hardwood floors were nice - at least, in his opinion. And the windows in his lounge offered great views over Manhattan. But now that he was comparing the space to the room Emma had shown him the day before, with all of its color and artwork on the walls, Killian supposed his own would probably come across as a little cold and masculine. Or, maybe it was just the lack of Emma's presence that was suddenly making him feel that way.

"I'll give you a full tour in the morning," he promised.

"I look forward to it."

Emma's eyes seemed to be narrowing with every word they shared, and as much as Killian wasn't yet ready to say goodnight to her, he didn't want to be the reason she spent her weekend in a zombie-like state, thanks to a lack of sleep.

"You should get some rest, Emmy. It must be like –" his eyes flicked over to the alarm clock beside his bed, and Killian cringed a little. "– Jesus, it's past midnight here!"

Emma hummed, and for a moment, he wasn't entirely sure if she was awake or not. "That's because you were incredibly well detailed tonight."

"You were the one who put the idea in my mind," he threw back at her.

"And I don't regret that at all."

Killian chuckled again as he nodded his head in understanding. Even if he had kept her up later than he'd planned, he certainly didn't regret a moment of their time together that evening.

"Me either. But if you wanna do this again anytime soon - you need to get some sleep."

Emma hummed once more, and this time, when her eyes fluttered shut - they remained that way.

"Emmy? You need to move your laptop," Killian called out softly, because a large part of him didn't want to disturb her while she looked so peaceful, but the small, logical side of his brain also didn't want her to break the one item that kept them so well connected to each other.

Emma hummed again, but instead of moving her laptop, she wrapped her arms around her pillow and pulled it closer to her. It didn't take long for her breathing to even out, and Killian was sure that she was fast asleep only seconds later.

Instead of ending their call and closing his laptop, he sat for a moment and watched as she slept peacefully in her bed. He couldn't remember much about either of the previous times he'd fallen asleep with Emma, and, on both occasions, she'd woken before he had. He hated that he didn't know if she was a cuddler or if she preferred her own space in the bed, and he despised the knowledge that he probably wouldn't get a chance to find that out anytime soon.

The feel of the mattress bouncing under Lily's weight finally pulled Killian's attention away from his screen. He watched as the old girl made her way up the bed, sniffing around the sheets until she finally found a spot she liked and began pacing around and around it. When she finally flopped down on top of the duvet, Killian took that as his cue to get some sleep of his own. He reached down to scratch his fingers through the fur covering Lily's back, a silent apology for keeping her out of the room, then turned to his laptop.

Killian watched as Emma slept peacefully for just a moment longer before he finally typed out a small message for her, ended the call, and set the device down on his bedside table.

Sleep well, Emmy.

I miss you.

Xxx

Monday morning seemed to dawn far too bright and early for Killian's liking. At first, he considered snoozing his alarm and going back to sleep, but Killian knew that if he missed his morning workout, he'd end up regretting it later that day.

Thankfully, just like every morning, he woke to find a message from Emma waiting for him. She'd sent him a picture of herself when she'd first woken, the hand not holding her phone tangled in her messy hair and the sheets pulled down just far enough to reveal the tops of her breasts - and nothing else.

Morning, handsome.

Enjoy your road trip today!

Killian took a moment to save the image to a file named 'Emmy' on his phone before he navigated back to their chat thread to type out his reply.

Good morning, beautiful.

I'm just heading to the gym before work.

How's your day going?

While he waited for her response to come through, Killian heaved himself out of bed and made his way over to the bathroom. After pulling on a pair of shorts and a simple black t-shirt, he grabbed his phone from the bed and headed downstairs to refill Lily's water bowl and set out some breakfast for her.

Lazily.

I've just been watching episodes of this really old reality show I found on YouTube this morning.

Emma had attached a picture of said reality show to her message, and Killian groaned in exasperation when he found an old image of himself staring back at him.

Reality TV, Killian?

Really?

What's wrong with reality TV?

Killian paused to give Lily some attention before he snagged his keys from the kitchen counter, then headed towards the front door.

It would take me less time to tell you what's right with it.

Okay. So… what's right with it?

He stepped onto the elevator and hit the button that would take him down to the gym. It was just as the elevator chime sounded and the doors slid smoothly open that his phone vibrated once again.

Well, with this one, a hot guy wearing a killer black leather jacket presents it.

But, other than that – I'm drawing a blank.

Killian snorted to himself, even as he felt a blush climb its way up his neck as a result of her compliment.

Thanks.

I think I still have that jacket somewhere…

But there must be something else you like about reality TV.

No.

Nothing else!

Honestly, I'm surprised to see you presenting reality TV. You don't strike me as the type. You seem much more like a documentary kinda guy.

Killian read Emma's message twice as he headed toward the lockers to safely tuck away his wallet and keys. It had been so long since he'd dabbled with his career change that he didn't really know how to explain it. At the time, it had made sense, but now – now, he wasn't so sure.

I think I might be offended by that assumption. I may be old, but I'm not THAT boring – yet!

Reality TV is just such a great form of escapism, don't you think?

There's always that one show you love to hate that drags you away from whatever else is happening in your life, and if all else fails, it's a brilliant reminder that your life isn't always as crap as you think it is.

I don't really remember why I agreed to host the show, but I don't regret doing it.

You shouldn't!

You were fantastic at it.

And you're right. I guess I've just never really thought about reality TV that way before.

I might not make time for whatever 'Shore' they're on these days, but I promise that if you ever get the urge to go back to your presenting days, I'll watch every damned minute of it!

You'd better!

I'm just heading into the gym now.

I'll talk to you on the other side.

X

Killian quickly turned on airplane mode before he could become distracted again and then pulled up his favorite playlist as he headed for the equipment room.

Ninety minutes later, Killian was a hot and sweaty mess heading back up to his apartment. Once inside, he grabbed a bottle of cold water from the fridge, then made his way to the bathroom, slowly stripping off his dirty clothes as he went. Killian paused before stepping into the shower to take a picture of himself in the mirror and sent it to Emma before he started washing up for the long day ahead of him.

He wasn't surprised to see his friend's reply waiting for him when he climbed out fifteen minutes later, feeling a lot fresher than he had been all morning.

Okay – if they make a reality TV show about you looking like THAT, I'll watch it.

I think you'd probably be the only one.

Given the volume of articles I've read this week about your 'new look,' I highly doubt that!

Killian chuckled to himself as he pulled on a pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt. His team had mentioned those articles to him, but he had made the conscious decision not to seek them out. He was well aware that for every positive article he would find, there would be at least twice as many negatives – and Killian really didn't need that kind of energy in his life. He was far too old for that shit.

"Okay, Lily," he said, as he approached the napping dog to scratch behind her ears. "I'm gonna be away for most of the day, but your Grandma's gonna stop by and take you for a walk later. Be good for her."

Lily barely even acknowledged his words, and after waiting a moment longer to see if she would, Killian sighed and pushed himself up to his feet.

"Bye then," he called out, as he snagged his keys from the counter and headed for the front door.

His walk to work didn't take long and was oddly relaxing. Killian had always found that the time it took allowed him to start his day with a clear head – which was something he needed that day more than any other. He'd only just landed his role with ATSL during the last Presidential election. Instead of anchoring coverage, Killian had spent most of his time on the streets, talking to voters and covering the different rallies and conferences.

A lot had changed for him over the last four years, and he was a little nervous about the prospect of co-anchoring such a large event for the very first time. He'd tried talking through his concerns with his mother and friends, but they had simply waved them away, reassuring him that he'd do fine. That morning, however, as he made the walk to work, Killian decided to try talking them through once again with the only person who had never heard his concerns before.

"Morning!"

"Good afternoon," Killian countered, chuckling a little at the enthusiasm behind her greeting. "I'm guessing it's safe to say you're having a good one."

"I'm not sure I'd call it good, but it's been productive," Emma explained. "I got the last of my stuff boxed up for the move, and I have a man with a van coming by in about an hour to help me take everything across."

"Is this man with a van someone you know?" he worried, because the last thing Killian needed was for his friend to be murdered while he was sitting useless on the other side of the world.

"Nope. The studio I signed with helped me find him, though, so I assume they know he's trustworthy."

Killian nodded his head in agreement before remembering that Emma wouldn't be able to see him. "That's good. I'm glad they're helping to keep you safe."

"They'd rather I live in my own place, preferably in London, but I'm incredibly stubborn, so they're doing what they can to make things easier for me."

"That's… that's really good, Emmy. If they're willing to do that for you, they must really like you."

"You think?"

Emma's voice carried a note of uncertainty, and Killian wished, not for the first time that hour, that he could be by her side, helping her navigate this new and sometimes scary path her life was taking. She only ever sounded uncertain when she was talking about her job, and he hated that everything was still so unsure for her.

"I know so. Being a news anchor isn't quite the same thing, but I've been a part of the entertainment industry for decades now, Emmy. They only ever bend over backward if it helps themselves in the long run. If the studio is caving to your stubborn wants and needs right now, it's because they know they're investing in their own future."

"Huh."

Killian let those words sit with her for a long moment. By the time she chose to speak again, he was just entering the lobby at work. And, of course, she chose that moment to ask, "So, how are you feeling about tonight? It's a pretty big deal, right?"

"Yeah, you, um… you could say that," he told her, as he cleared security and headed for the bank of elevators at the back of the building.

"You weren't anchoring with the network during the last election, were you?"

"No, I wasn't," he agreed. "My career's kind of exploded since then."

"And you're worried about somehow messing up tonight during your coverage," she finished for him, because, once again, Emma seemed to read far more from his tone than anyone else in his life ever had before.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"I'd say 'don't be, you'll do fine,' but I know that doesn't ever really help with anything. So, what I'll say instead is that you know what you're doing, Killian. You have the knowledge and the experience needed for this job. It's why ATSL gave it to you. If they didn't think you were capable of pulling this off - they'd send someone else."

"I thought you said they were sending me for my sex appeal," he deadpanned, and watched as everyone else in the elevator turned to offer him bemused looks.

"Well, that's definitely a part of it," Emma giggled, "But honestly, do you think they're relying on sex appeal alone? Looks can only get you so far in this role, Killian. I know they're sending you to cover the debate because they knowyou're the best person for the job. You just need to trust in them, and you'll be fine."

"Thanks, Emmy."

While she hadn't said much, what she had said was more reassuring than anything else any of his friends or family had thought to offer to him before. Trusting in himself was something he still struggled with at times. It was hard to believe in yourself when so many others always assumed you'd gotten to the place you were in life through favors or because of your upbringing. But Emma trusted in him, and while Killian hadn't known her for long, he knew that she tended to make good decisions in life. So if trusting in himself failed that evening when he was finally in front of the camera, Killian would trust her.

"It's what I'm here for," she assured him, as he stepped out of the elevator on his floor and into the hustle and bustle of a busy newsroom already preparing for the long day they had ahead of themselves.

"Will you, uh… will you be watching the coverage tonight?" he asked, as he picked his way through the space, holding out his free hand for the memos and notes being thrust in his direction and nodding his head at the different instructions yelled his way.

"I will. I'm gonna take a nap when I finish getting everything into my room, and then I can kill time until you're on-air with unpacking duties."

"Sounds good to me," Killian mumbled distractedly, as he scanned through the messages he'd been handed in the relative silence of his office.

"Do you want me to let you go?" Emma inquired, somehow, smoothly picking up on that note of distraction in his tone.

"'Do I want you to let me go?" he asked, parroting her words back at her. "No. No, I don't. But I think I might need you to. Sorry, Emmy."

"Don't be," she chuckled. "You need to work. I totally get that. Hopefully, I'll get a chance to talk to you later - but if I don't, we can catch up tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. I'll, uh… I'll message you when I can."

"You'd better," she threatened darkly. "I want selfies of you when you're all dressed up before you go on-air."

"I'll do my best," he pacified, already knowing he would take any and all pictures she asked for if they put a smile on her face.

"Have a good day, Killian."

"You too," he assured her, then sighed heavily to himself when the sound of the disconnected line met his ears. Emma had always been better at ending their calls than he had, and for a moment, he lost himself to thought, wondering if it was just because she knew he didn't like being the one to disconnect their line or if it was somehow easier for her to say goodbye.

Killian was eventually startled out of those thoughts by the sound of someone knocking aggressively on his office door.

"Hey man, how's it going?" Graham asked, poking his head inside without waiting for an invitation.

"It's, uh… it's going," Killian explained.

"The Powers That Be wanna meet on the hour, so I just wanted to see if you had your suit ready? I can put it in the car now; instead of faffing around when we inevitably run late because they can't make their mind up about who will be filling what roles in the studio."

Killian chuckled as he dumped his phone and the notes onto his desk and then headed back to the small dressing room just off the space. Graham followed behind at a slight distance, and Killian called over his shoulder, "Have they still not worked that out yet?"

"John's had to take the day off sick. He literally came into the office and vomited all over the newsroom floor," Graham explained. "They've given Will the day off, so they're trying to get hold of him now, and if they can't, they need a plan C."

"How do you know this stuff?" Killian asked, pulling out a garment bag to wrap around one of the black suits hanging in his closet.

"Do you remember Janet from the old Newsroom coverage? Well, she's a bit of a gossip. I've deliberately kept in touch with her since she left New York to make sure I heard about what was going on in D.C. before the idiots here decided to tell us about it."

Killian snorted out a laugh as he reached blindly into the drawer containing all of his ties and pulled out the first one his fingers landed on. "I'm gonna need you to CC me into these messages," he told his friend. "I'm always the last to know what's happening around here."

"I've got your back, brother," Graham assured him, reaching out to literally slap him on the back before he took the garment bag from Killian's hands and draped it over his arm. "Good luck with everything here, and I'll see you on the hour."

"See you soon," Killian replied, heading for his desk again and the pile of memos that seemed to have grown in the short time he'd been away from them all.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.