"So, uh… this is me, Ma'am."

Emma made her way across the threshold to put herself in the middle of Lieutenant Jones's office. It was small, bland, and sparsely furnished, but looked perfectly functional.

"Are all of the offices on base like this one?" she asked

"I believe Johnson's is slightly larger – but yes, Ma'am. They all follow the same design." The Queen nodded her head in understanding, but she didn't look terribly happy about the news. "Honestly, Ma'am, after spending six months in Afghanistan, I can confidently state that these offices feel like luxury compared to that."

Emma chuckled a little at Jones's words. While she'd never been to an active warzone before, she had seen enough of the classified documents to know that what he was saying was true.

"How many operational tours have you been on, Lieutenant?"

"Only the one, thankfully. My brother's been to Afghanistan twice, though, Ma'am."

"My cousin's also been there twice.. but he doesn't like to talk about it."

Killian could fully understand that. Liam had refused to speak of his time spent in Afghanistan, and it had only taken his brother three days out there to understand why. There were some things that changed a person forever. Some things that simply couldn't be explained to someone who hadn't live through it themselves. Killian wasn't entirely sure how to explain all of that to his Queen, however, so he chose to address her other statement instead.

"I uh… I didn't know there was a royal currently serving, Ma'am."

"There isn't. David's not of royal descent." She chuckled at Jones's perplexed look before explaining, "He's my father's brother's son."

Killian was a little ashamed to admit that he didn't know much about Queen Emma's extended family. Like everyone else in the world, he knew about the tragic fate her brother and parents had suffered a number of years ago, but aside from that, he could barely even recall the former Princess's face, let alone the existence of her brother-in-law.

"Are you uh… are you close to your cousin, Ma'am?"

"As close as two people who don't get to see each other often can be."

Killian sensed that this was a conversation he probably shouldn't push, and Queen Emma seemed to agree. Thankfully, she was quick to change the subject.

"So, tell me, what exactly does a Flight Lieutenant do?" she asked.

"Oh, I uh… I oversee a regiment of thirty men and women, Ma'am, and act as my brother's second in command here on base."

"Do you fly at all?" she asked, as she stepped around the space, taking in the images he'd used to decorate the walls, and the awards and achievements he had displayed upon them.

"Yes, Ma'am. Not very often these days, but I'm fully qualified to do so."

"Does that mean I missed my opportunity to ask you to take me flying when we were in the hanger earlier?" she teased gently.

"I'm afraid so. Maybe next time, Ma'am."

"I'll hold you to that, Lieutenant," she warned, as she rounded his desk to look at the framed pictures he had standing upon it. There was one of his brother and Elsa, posing together sweetly at some kind of formal event, and one of Oliver as a baby, fast asleep on his father's chest. The third was what appeared to be an awkwardly-taken selfie from last Christmas, showing the whole family together in front of a badly decorated tree. Emma's heart gave a painful squeeze as she thought about how different their days would be this year. While she knew that a military career meant making certain sacrifices, she still couldn't imagine just how difficult it must be for deployed personnel and their families waiting back home.

The Queen was pulled out of her musings when her eyes landed on the next item on Jones's desk. Beside his computer monitor was a familiar-looking handmade Christmas card, and Emma smiled as she picked it up to show the Lieutenant. "I have one of these too," she explained. "Oliver made it for me at the party. He was the only child to do so. It's in my private rooms at the Palace now."

"It is, Ma'am?"

"Of course. Where else do you think I'd put it?" she asked, gently setting the card back down in its original spot, before she turned her eyes up to meet Jones's.

"Sorry, Ma'am. I just kind of assumed that you'd get so many you wouldn't bother keeping them all."

"You're right. I do get plenty and I don't usually keep them all. At least, not in my private rooms. My assistant's secretary uses the ones that come through the post to decorate our offices for the holiday season. But as Oliver made a card just for me, it feels only right that it should take centre stage in my lounge." Emma didn't want to add that she'd kept it because she'd never really had someone make her something so personal before. That seemed far too intimate to reveal to a man she'd only just met.

"Thank you, Ma'am. I know that would mean the world to him."

For a moment, neither of them said anything as Emma continued to scan the small office. All of Jones's personal items either related to his brother and Oliver, or back to his job. It was clear that he was very dedicated to his family, but there didn't appear to be anyone else in his life. In that respect, Emma was starting to believe that she and Lieutenant Jones might be more alike than either of them would ever have imagined.

She might not have had much in the way of family to offer her time to, and this might not have been the path she'd intended for her life to take, but Emma had grown to love her role as Head of State. She dedicated a lot of her time to it, which often meant that she didn't have any energy left for personal relationships. The Queen couldn't help but think that while his son was obviously the focal point of his life now, before Oliver had come along, it was plain to see that Lieutenant Jones had dedicated much of his time to his career too. It was the only way to explain the wall of achievements he held at such a young age.

"Do you see yourself stepping back from the RAF any time soon?" she asked suddenly.

"I uh… I don't know, Ma'am. I enjoy my work, but I'd love to be home more with my son. I'll have to give it some thought next year, before he starts school."

"Well, if you ever decide a change of career is in order, you should consider emailing your CV across to the head of recruitment at the palace," she instructed. "We're always looking for ex-military men and women to add to our security team."

"Tha… thank you, Ma'am," Killian stuttered out. He was a little flustered by the knowledge that she thought him good enough to apply for such an important role.

Queen Emma gave him a small smile and then turned her attention back down to his framed photographs, before she declared, "I think we should start making our way back to the party. We don't want the others to think we've snuck away for some kind of illicit tryst now, do we?"

Killian felt his cheeks burn a bright red the moment his brain caught up to her train of thought. "No, Ma'am," he agreed, and then gestured for her to step out of the room ahead of him. Before he could fully shut the door behind himself, Killian's brain decided to give him a little glimpse of what Queen Emma had been teasing him about.

"Fuck me," he mumbled to himself, as he locked the door and turned to offer her a painfully-awkward smile. He was pretty sure there was no way he was ever going to be able to step foot into his office again - without picturing the Queen of England naked and writhing on his desk.

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