"Mmmm… yes… just there," Emma sighed, as her head dropped onto Killian's shoulder and she pushed back into him.

One of his hands slipped down her body to wrap around her left thigh, anchoring himself to her, as the other came up to grip her right breast.

"Never would – have – taken you – for a – boob guy," she panted out, pushing back into him with such force that Killian was sure a lesser man would have been on his ass already.

"Shut up," he growled out playfully, as he bent his head to press his lips to the soft skin at the juncture of her neck.

The truth was that he never wanted her to stop talking. Even in the middle of sex, Emma somehow found a way to keep surprising him. He hadn't expected the intimacy to come so easily or to feel so right. When he'd woken that morning, curled around her small form in the middle of the bed, he'd thought everything would be awkward and uncomfortable. He was worried he'd ruined their friendship before it had really had a chance to blossom. But Emma had simply arched back into him, rubbing her ass into his crotch a little more than was really necessary, as she'd said, "Morning. I dunno about you, but I need a shower after spending all night in these sticky sheets." She'd rolled over to get a good look at his face before she'd added, "Wanna join me?" with that wicked smirk on her lips that he loved so much. Naturally, Killian had thrown himself out of bed as fast as he could, pausing only long enough to grab a condom before he'd joined her inside the glass shower.

"You love it," she gloated, bringing one of her arms up to curl around the back of his head, holding him in place. Her other hand was still braced against the tiled wall of the shower, keeping them on their feet as the slightly-too-warm water rained down over them, making Kilian's skin burn hotter.

He said nothing as he sucked a mark into the back of her neck before brushing her wet hair out of the way to move his attention over to the other side.

When Emma's movements became a little more erratic, and her breathing started coming faster, he slipped the hand wrapped around her thigh over to where they were joined and began running his index finger softly around the place she'd toyed with the night before.

"Oh… fuck!" she yelped, her head falling forward.

Killian couldn't tell if she had her eyes open or shut. The idea of her watching him play with her wet flesh - of her watching the way his cock slid in and out of her with every move she made - had him biting down on his bottom lip and tightening his grip on her breast as his fingers began moving faster.

"Yes – just like that – yes," she panted, pushing herself back into him with more power than he would have imagined. "Oh, God – Killian – Gonna come," she ground out, between little moans of delight.

A few moments later, the grip on his head was gone. Emma slammed her hand into the tile beside the shower controls, and Killian stilled inside of her as he felt her muscles clench and release around him. He just had enough time to wrap both of his arms around her waist before his orgasm hit, washing over him in a far more satisfying way than the spray of warm water they were currently standing under.

Killian opened his eyes again as he felt Emma slip out of his arms and watched as one of her hands came down to remove the condom before she tugged him back under the spray.

"I think I'm gonna need another shower before I board that plane," he mumbled, reaching blindly for her.

She must have been closer than he'd thought because her chuckle sounded right beside his ear, and Killian felt a shiver roll down his spine at the way her cool breath tickled his neck.

"Do you need me to scrub your back for you?" she teased.

"I would never object to that."

Emma giggled again before she turned under the spray, allowing the water to cascade over her for just a moment. She then stepped away to grab a bottle from the side and squeezed a small amount of translucent liquid into her palm.

"I need to wash my hair before I do anything else," she explained, rubbing her palms together. She then brought them up to begin gently massaging the lather into her hair. "This is an old building. The hot water isn't gonna last forever."

"Good point," Killian mumbled, reaching for the bottle of body wash she had brought with her. It smelled very feminine and just like Emma. He knew it would probably earn him a few odd looks on the flight home, but he couldn't bring himself to care. If it helped to remind him of the remarkable woman he was leaving behind, Killian would bathe in it every day.

After she'd rinsed the lather from her hair, Emma reached for a second bottle and squeezed a much more generous amount of product into her hand, rubbed her palms together, and then began pulling her fingers through the long ends of her hair. When she was finished she rinsed off her hands and reached for the body wash.

"Turn around and crouch down," she instructed, and Killian did just that.

A few moments later, he felt her small hands land in the center of his back, where they began working in circular patterns, massaging the soap into his skin. It was a moment that should have been awkward, given the position that he was in and the fact that they were both still naked, but it felt far too good for him to care. He couldn't ever remember anyone taking care of him this way before.

Emma's hands slipped easily over his hips and waist. She paused momentarily to squeeze some more soap into her palm, before they traveled over the curve of his ass, the tops of his thighs, and down to his feet.

"Okay, you can rinse now," she instructed, tapping him gently on the shoulder.

Killian nodded his head firmly and took a minute just to compose his thoughts before he stood back up and stepped under the stream of water. The temperature was starting to cool off, which meant they'd spent far too much time in the bathroom, so once he was sure he was soap free, Killian stepped aside to allow Emma to finish her usual morning routine.

"Do you not want to wash your hair?" she asked, as she tilted her head back to rinse the conditioner from her own.

"I can go without today," he assured her. "I mean, if it looks crap when it dries, I'll just shove a baseball cap on it."

"Alright for some," she chuckled, reaching out to turn off the water just as it began to run cold.

Killian stepped out of the small space first, and it was like stepping back into reality. The realization that he only had hours left in the country with Emma - and that he still needed to pack - slammed into him as the cool air collided with the water on his body, making him shiver a little. Like the perfect gentleman he was raised to be, he passed the biggest towel he could find to Emma and grabbed a smaller one for himself.

As if she could read his mind, Emma stepped out of the stall and asked, "How much longer do I have you for?"

"Uh… I guess that depends on how long we just spent in there," he chuckled, somewhat awkwardly. "I have a car booked for eleven."

Emma considered his words for a moment before she said, "I guess we should get you dressed so you can pack, then."

"You could always come with me," he added hopefully. "To help me pack, I mean! It'll go much faster with the two of us working together."

"I doubt that," she snorted, "I'm sure I'd prove much more of a distraction than an aid, but I'm kind of curious about your place, so…" She shrugged her shoulders as she trailed off, and Killian offered her a warm smile.

"I can't wait to show it to you."

He finished running a towel over his hair then wrapped it around his waist before he left Emma in the bathroom to do whatever it was that she needed to do. It didn't take him long to dress in the clothes he'd been wearing the previous night, but when he turned his attention down to the messy bed, Killian was a little unsure of what to do next. Emma would probably want to change the sheets given the mess they'd made the night before. Even with a condom, certain bodily fluids still tended to leave their mark, and if it were up to him, he wouldn't want to spend another night in them – but he didn't want to go ahead and strip the bed clean either. That felt a little too presumptuous.

"Uh, Emmy?" he eventually called out, hoping she'd hear him through the closed door.

"Yeah," came her muffled reply.

"Do you want me to strip the bed down for you?"

"No, leave it as it is," she told him, "It'll give me something to do later. Why don't you go and see what you can find for breakfast?"

"Okay," Killian agreed.

He gave the room one last look to make sure he wasn't leaving anything behind, then took the stairs two at a time to head down to the kitchen.

A glance at the clock on the wall told him it was already past nine, which meant that he had less than two hours left with his friend, and Killian's heart gave a painful squeeze at that realization. He might have been a little intoxicated the night before, but he'd meant what he'd said when he'd told Emma that he was going to miss her. She'd become such an important part of his days since their first encounter, and the idea of returning to New York City, knowing he wasn't going to see her anytime soon, stung.

Emma made her way downstairs roughly ten minutes later with her damp hair pulled back into a messy braid and wearing a black dress decorated with white polka dots. "How's it looking?" she asked, just as her hands landed on his hips while she peered around his side and into the small refrigerator.

"Not too bad. You definitely keep your kitchen better stocked than I do," he mumbled.

"That's because I eat real food," she chuckled, snagging a piece of cheese from the small platter he'd put together before she danced over to the coffee machine.

Killian moved the platter over to the table and grabbed a couple of plates from the cupboard. By the time he took his seat, Emma was already in her own nursing a mug of steaming coffee, and there was a large glass of orange juice in front of him.

For a couple of long minutes, an awkward silence seemed to settle between the two of them as they began their meal. Killian could feel so many words on the very tip of his tongue, but none of them felt right to speak in the harsh light of day. Unfortunately, the impulse to bury them all down proved to be too much, and Killian ended up blurting out, "Do you wanna come to the airport with me?" before he could really think it through.

"Huh?"

"Do you, um… I was thinking – I mean, I was hoping that maybe you'd like to come to the airport with me – to say goodbye. I know it's a long way to go for something so small, but at least we'd get to spend a little more time together that way."

Emma tilted her head to one side and studied him carefully for a moment before she said, "I could do that. I wanted to go back to Nice before I have to leave anyway."

"Haven't you explored the entire city yet?" he teased.

"Pfft, not even half," she chuckled, "But that's not why I wanna go back."

The look in her eye said there was some sort of hidden joke that Killian wasn't quite picking up on, but it also told him that if he asked, she would likely dodge his questions. So instead of voicing it, Kilian picked a slightly different topic.

"When's your flight back to London?"

"I leave on Sunday," she explained. "And once I get back to London, I will be taking a train to Cambridge because there are sixty-nine other cities in the country that aren't the capital."

Killian snorted out a laugh as he finished picking at the platter and gently pushed his plate away.

"You know I have visited a couple of them before, right?" he mused. "Manchester and Salisbury, I believe."

"You've been to Salisbury before?" she asked, "Salisbury but not Cambridge?"

"I wanted to see Stonehenge," he explained, giving a little shrug of his shoulders.

Emma reached behind her to snatch the dishtowel from the side and threw it at his head. Killian batted it away with ease, but it didn't stop him from laughing along with her. As his laughter died down, his eyes flicked back to the clock on the wall. Any humor inside of him died instantly.

"I guess we should go and pack your stuff," Emma declared, startling his attention back over to her. "If not, you're gonna be late for your ride."

"It's not gonna take me an hour to pack," he assured her, and Emma's face creased with confusion.

"Why not? Did you not unpack when you got here?"

"Hell no," he chuckled, because that was something he'd learned many years ago from his time spent on the road, covering major warzones. "I just put away the stuff that wrinkles. Everything else is either in the case or just needs placing inside it."

"Wow. Men are weird," Emma mumbled, seemingly to herself, as she unfolded her legs and pushed herself up to her feet. She took a moment to clear away the empty plates, mug, and glass from their meal, then dusted her hands off on the skirt of her dress. "Okay, I'm gonna grab my bag and shoes, and then we can head over to your place."

"Sounds good to me," he agreed, as he stood from his seat and pushed the chair back under the table.

Emma was already gone from the room by the time he'd lifted his head, and Killian sighed heavily before he made his way through to the hallway, where he'd kicked off his shoes the night before.

When she reappeared back at his side, his friend was wearing a black cardigan over her dress, a pair of black wedges that tied around her ankles, and a black tote bag was tucked under her arm.

"Okay. I'm ready," she declared, somewhat unnecessarily.

Killian twisted the keys inside the lock then pushed the front door open. "After you, Milady," he invited.

Emma offered him a small curtsy as she passed, and Killian almost forgot to pull her keys from the door before he shut it behind himself.

"So, how does your place compare to mine?" she asked, reaching out to lace their fingers together, allowing Killian to lead the way.

"It's pretty similar," he chuckled, "But yours is definitely bigger. Mine doesn't have the spare room or the piano in the corner of the lounge. I think Carlos's father just repeated everything when he was decorating them."

"You finally learned that piece of crucial information, did ya?"

"I've been distracted," he defended hotly, as he turned up the small garden path that led to his front door. Killian fished inside his pocket, pulled out the keys, unlocked it, then ushered Emma inside.

"Wow," she whispered, the moment she'd crossed the threshold. "It's like nobody's been staying here at all."

"It's not that bad."

"It's not that good either," she chuckled, as he pushed the door shut and fell back against it.

Emma set her purse down on the sofa and cast a look around herself. Killian could see the proverbial wheels turning in her mind, taking stock of what needed to be done in the little time they had left together.

"Okay. I'll have a good look around down here for your things and gather them up. Why don't you go upstairs and get changed? Then you can start sorting out the stuff you have up there."

"That's crazy, you know," he said, as he pushed himself away from the door and took a step towards the staircase. At Emma's look of confusion, Killian added, "For a moment there, you sounded just like my mother."

The cushion that came flying his way was completely expected, and just missed his heels as he pounded his way up the stairs, laughing loudly.

Once he was back inside the place that had been his bedroom for the past ten days, Killian stripped out of last night's clothing and carefully folded the items he'd been wearing before he dropped them into the laundry bag he'd already opened inside his suitcase. He then pulled on a clean t-shirt and a new pair of jeans before making his way through to the bathroom. After brushing his teeth and examining his hair, Killian applied a liberal amount of deodorant before zipping up his travel bag. He then made his way back out to the bedroom to add the small bag to his case. The dresser and wardrobe were practically empty now, so it didn't take long for him to pack the last of his clothing or to slide his laptop into his messenger bag. After that, he gave the room one final appraisal to be sure he hadn't forgotten anything, zipped his case, and headed back down to the lounge.

Emma had apparently finished long before he had, as there was a neat stack of his belongings at the edge of the coffee table, and she was sitting on the sofa, flicking through one of the magazines that had been in the house when he'd first arrived.

"All done?" she asked, as he began adding charging cables and water bottles to his messenger bag.

"I think so. I've got the important things, at least. If I forget anything, I can replace the rest."

Emma shot him a look that clearly said, alright for some, before she tossed the magazine back down onto the coffee table and stood up. "I, uh… I guess we should probably start heading down to the car park. It's quarter-to-eleven."

"Shit! It is?" Killian checked his watch and hated what he saw there. The hands seemed to be taunting him, moving much faster than they normally did. "I uh, I guess we should," he said, sighing with frustration.

"It'll be okay," Emma assured him, as she wrapped her arm around his waist and squeezed his hip for just a brief moment. "Goodbye doesn't always have to be the end."

"I'm pretty sure that's what goodbye means," he argued.

"Only if you want it too."

"You're starting to sound like my mom again," he teased, pulling the front door open.

"Keep talking like that, and we can make this goodbye permanent," Emma said, as she flounced past him before stopping halfway down the path.

"You wouldn't dare!" The look of fake horror on Killian's face made her giggle as he set his suitcase down beside the doormat, pulled the front door shut, and locked it for the final time. Killian hesitated for a moment, rolling the keys between his fingers while he stared down at them before he posted them through the mail slot in the door.

Emma said nothing as she allowed him to take the lead and fell into step beside him. When they were back on the cobbled street, she slipped her hand into his own and squeezed it gently but didn't say anything else. Killian was oddly grateful for the silence because there was absolutely nothing she could have said to ease the sudden ache that had formed in his gut.

His driver was already waiting in the parking lot when they arrived, and seeing the car there seemed to make the reality of their separation all the more real. Emma gave Killian's hand another squeeze before she let go of it to allow him to greet the other man.

"To the airport, right?" the driver asked, approaching Killian and reaching for his suitcase.

"Yes, please. And then wherever my friend here wants to go next. You can charge it to my card. Call it a parting gift," he added, as Emma raised a brow at him in admonishment.

"Of course, Sir," the driver assured him, his thick French accent curling around each word.

Killian left him to deal with the luggage and instead pulled the back door open for Emma. She eased herself gracefully down onto the seat, taking care to keep herself covered before she shimmed across the leather to make some space for him. Once the car door was shut behind them, the weight of the silence that had existed between the two of them became almost suffocating.

"I can call you, right?" Killian asked, suddenly turning to face her.

"Of course. In fact, I expect you too," she instructed. "I'm thinking… once a week. At least."

"At least once a week," he chuckled. "Got it."

"And there should be text messages too. I wanna know all about what it's like being a big-shot news presenter in New York City."

"And I wanna hear about what it's like studying at Cambridge University."

"It's boring," she told him, waving away his question with ease.

"Then I wanna hear about your career," he said instead. "All of it. The good, the bad, and the ugly."

Neither of them noticed the driver slide in behind the wheel of the car or the engine start.

"I'm gonna be honest, I'm not sure I'm capable of ugly," Emma quipped, and Killian tossed his head back with laughter. "But the good and bad I can definitely do. Wait – what's the time difference between the UK and New York City? Just so I don't end up sending you crazy stuff at completely inappropriate times of the day."

"I don't sleep much," Killian told her, because the idea of being woken up by some insane message from Emma didn't feel as annoying as he was sure it would from anyone else. "And I think it's around five hours, right? France is an hour ahead of you guys."

"Yeah, they are, so that would make sense." Emma nodded her head firmly and fell silent for a moment, but this silence felt different. It didn't feel as suffocating as it had done previously. "And what time is your show on the air? I really don't wanna be the girl who calls you while you're delivering news to the American people."

"Don't worry, I'd just send you to voicemail," he giggled, and she reached out to playfully slap at his upper thigh. "But it's um… it's eight. We're live at eight pm, eastern time, every weeknight. Some night's it's eleven too, but that's only for special occasions."

"Why eleven?" she asked, her face the picture of confusion.

"Because eleven eastern is eight pacific time. That way, we cover the biggest time slot on both sides of the country."

Emma was silent for a moment as she studied him carefully, then said, "You Americans really have to make everything so confusing, don't you?"

"Pretty much," he agreed, taking her hand into his own as he leaned back in his seat.

All too soon, the driver was pulling their car into the parking lot outside of terminals one and two at the Côte d'Azur airport. Killian met the guy's eyes in the mirror and gave him a small nod but didn't move. Instead, he waited until the driver stepped out of the car before turning to Emma and taking her hands.

"I'll call you," he promised.

"You'd better. And maybe a text when you land too," she instructed, "Just so I don't spend all night worrying that your plane blew up somewhere over the ocean."

"Thanks for that wonderfully reassuring thought before I board an international flight."

Emma looked like she wanted to smile, but instead, it came out looking more like a grimace.

"I'll miss you, Emma Swan."

"I'll miss you too," she said, as she let go of his hands to throw her arms around his neck.

Killian held her close for a long moment, soaking up the warmth of her body against his own and drinking in the scent of her hair. He only pulled back when the driver knocked softly on the window of the car.

"I'll see you soon," he promised, because of that, he was certain. Now that he knew what it was like to have Emma Swan in his life, Killian was going to make sure she stayed that way.

"I look forward to it."

He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers for a moment or two before he finally pulled away and reached for the door handle.

"I'll, um… I'll call you," he said over his shoulder, as he forced himself to swing his legs around and set his feet down on the sidewalk.

"Yes, you will."

"And you'll be careful while you're still here, right?" he asked, panic suddenly coloring his features.

"I'm a big girl, and I can take very good care of myself," Emma assured him.

Killian leaned back in to press another firm kiss to her lips before he finally hauled himself out of the vehicle.

Emma slid across the seat to take his place and stared up at him from the open door. "Have a safe flight," she said, smiling softly at him.

Killian nodded his head even as a large part of it was busy telling him to get back in the car with her.

"You should go," Emma eventually declared, but the smile she was wearing was clearly forced. "You don't wanna miss your flight."

"No. No, I uh… I guess I don't." Killian turned briefly to stare at the airport ahead of them before turning back to face her. "Goodbye, Emmy."

"Goodbye, for now, Killian."

With those four small words, he reached out to push the car door shut, then grabbed the handle on his case. Killian didn't dare look back to see if she was watching him as he made his way towards the entrance. He wasn't sure he would be strong enough to leave her if he did. Instead, he kept his focus on the large sliding doors ahead of him as he made his way into the airport and checked in for his flight.

It was only when he was safely inside the airport lounge, waiting for his flight to be called, that Killian dared to pull his phone from his pocket, intending to flick through the images he'd taken over the past few days. That was the moment when he realized he'd been far too busy dreading his goodbye with Emma to remember to ask for her number.

Emma's dress here was another high street bargain from ASOS. You can find images of it on my Tumblr page or AO3.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.