"So, Emma, you have a new and hugely anticipated album dropping on Friday, the title track of which you'll be performing for us at the end of the show. But I'm sure everyone watching at home right now would love to know a little more about what we can expect from the rest of the songs on it."

Emma shifted in her seat to make herself more comfortable as she turned the question over in her mind. "I'd like to think that you can see my personal growth through the music I release. The songs for this album were written during a huge time of transition for me. I finally feel like I've started to find my place in this world and I'm growing into what I hope others see as a mature adult. I really feel like that's been reflected in the new music I've written for Dancing in the Dark. To me, these songs are deeper and less superficial than the stuff I wrote when I was a teenager because I have a very different outlook on life now."

Mark, the show's host, nodded his head like he could even begin to understand the journey she had been through, and how it had affected the music she'd written. Emma had to bite down on her tongue and remind herself to keep smiling, because reaching out to slap the smug smile off his face wouldn't go down well at all.

It was always hard for her to explain just how much her music meant to her. Emma enjoyed performing and putting her work out into the world, but every single piece meant something different to her. Her catalog of work was like a musical biography of her life, and it was something she felt incredibly protective of. Which was how she knew the only other people in the world who could even begin to understand her position, were her fellow songwriters.

"And you have a world tour starting next month, right here in Los Angeles. Can we expect to see some of our old favorites performed there, or will you be focusing more on this newer, more mature Emma Swan?"

"The heaviest focus will, of course, be on the newest material," she explained. "I want you guys to love the tracks as much as I do, and I want you to form a connection to them, just like I have. But we're planning to make sure we mix in some of those older classics with the newer pieces too. While I might have matured since I wrote those songs, that doesn't mean they don't still hold a special place in my heart."

The audience gave a small cheer at her words and Emma smiled sweetly as she turned a little in her chair to face them better. They were, after all, the reason she'd agreed to the interview that evening. She didn't much like Mark or his show. Emma could still remember some of the less-than-flattering things he'd said about her when she'd first broken through the industry, even if he couldn't. But she knew that sucking up to journalists was a part of her job, just as she knew that she owed it to her fans to promote her work as best she could. Those that were unable to attend her tours relied on television and radio interviews for their fix, so she didn't want to deprive them of their access to her content. And it was the thought of those fans that kept her smile genuine that evening, as she sat across from the two-faced television presenter on the other side of the large oak desk.

"You sound like you've had a busy year preparing for all of this," Mark chuckled, and Emma sighed internally. She'd given enough interviews throughout her career to know exactly where he was going with this line of questioning. "I don't suppose that's left you much room for a personal life?"

"I uh… I have been busy," she agreed, as she forced herself to lighten the mood with a chuckle. "But no matter how busy I get, I always try to make time for the people who mean the most to me."

"Does that mean there's someone special in your life right now?" Mark prodded, leaning forward a little in his seat, which gave away just how eager he was for some kind of exclusive gossip.

"There are a lot of special people in my life," Emma replied honestly. "But if you're asking if I'm dating anyone right now, the simple answer to that is no."

"Well, I'm sure the right person is out there waiting for you, Emma," he replied awkwardly, clearly thrown by the bluntness of her response. Mark then turned his attention away from her to face the camera opposite his desk as he declared, "We're gonna take a short break now, but when we come back we'll be joined by actor Ethan Hawke, who's here to tell us all about his new movie. And Emma Swan will, of course, be performing her latest single, Dancing in the Dark."

As soon as word was given that the live feed had been cut, Emma made her way off the small stage to head back to her dressing room, pulling the microphone from her clothing as she did. She wasn't surprised to find Ariel and Agent Jones waiting for her. Ariel had been standing close to the floor manager, likely issuing orders about camera angles that she deemed to be the most flattering for her client, whereas Agent Jones had been lingering as far away from the action as he could get, while still keeping her in his line of sight.

"You could have delivered that last line a little more gently," Ariel chided, as the three of them turned to head back down the corridors.

"I also could have told him to mind his own damned business. I thought I was polite enough."

Ariel let out a hefty sigh and Emma tried to remind herself that her assistant was simply doing her job. (And she hadn't exactly made that easy for the other woman just recently.)

"Next time, I promise I'll try to be more tactful," she assured her friend, as she reached for the handle on her dressing room door.

"Allow me," Agent Jones interrupted. He darted in front of her to make his way into the small space once again, and Emma watched as he gave it a careful once over before he stepped back out and nodded that it was fine for them to enter.

"Thank you," Ariel bit out, pushing her way past him to head for the couch once more.

"Thanks," Emma offered, much more softly.

"For what it's worth, I thought what you said was fine," he whispered quickly. Emma's assistant already seemed to dislike him enough, so the last thing Killian wanted to do was give her another reason to hate him, by holding up her client. "I particularly liked how you implied that romantic partners aren't the only people to hold special places in a person's life."

"Thank you, Agent Jones."

He nodded his head in acknowledgment of her statement before reaching past her to pull the door closed, effectively shutting himself out of the room.

Emma had barely taken two steps before Ariel asked, "Are we going to need to have a conversation about appropriate men for you to date?"

"Excuse me?"

The redhead flicked a pointed look over to the closed door before she settled her gaze back on Emma's face once more.

"Agent Jones and I are not dating. And even if we were, it wouldn't be any of your business," Emma snapped out. "I hired you to help manage my professional schedule, not to dictate who I should or shouldn't spend my time with. If you wanna keep your job, you'll remember that in the future."

Emma dropped down heavily into the seat at the dressing table and allowed her eyes to flutter shut for a moment. She knew she'd probably come to regret that threat in the morning, when she'd had some time and space to think it through. But right then, she couldn't seem to bring herself to regret it enough to apologize to her friend.

Killian enjoyed watching Emma perform that evening. It had been years since he'd seen anyone perform live music (unless you could count his niece's habit of singing when she was listening to her iPhone) and Emma was a truly talented performer. No matter how she felt away from the stage, the moment the music began it was all she could focus on. And Killian was oddly pleased to note that every single person in the studio seemed to enjoy her set just as much as he did, as both the audience and the production crew gave her their full attention.

The moment she stepped off the stage, however, Emma's entire demeanor changed. He wasn't entirely sure what had been said between her and her assistant before the performance, but Killian could sense the tension between the two women as they headed back to the dressing room one final time.

When they arrived at the now-familiar door, Emma turned back to face the two people who had been following her, and Killian expected her to address the redhead at his side. But as usual, Emma Swan surprised him once again by turning her attention towards him.

"Do you think you could give me a ride home?" she asked.

The woman beside him (God, he really needed to ask her name!) opened her mouth to object and Emma stormed ahead before she could say anything.

"You can leave now, Ariel."

"Emma, please! Can't we just discuss this in private for a moment?"

"I have nothing left to say on the matter," she snapped back. "I'll contact you tomorrow to discuss next week's plans."

Ariel turned to look at the federal agent standing beside her for a moment, her eyes pleading with him to step in and help her out.

Killian might have only had limited experience in dealing with members of the opposite sex, but even he knew not to get involved in whatever was happening between the two warring women.

"Fine," the redhead eventually huffed out. "But if all of this blows up in your face Emma, you can deal with the consequences of it alone." She stormed down the hallway and towards the back entrance without another word, and Killian turned a questioning look upon the woman standing opposite him.

"Don't ask," Emma sighed, reaching for the door handle before she remembered protocol and stepped aside to gesture for Agent Jones to go in ahead of her.

The room was just as empty as it had been before, but given what they knew of their suspect so far, Killian wasn't prepared to take any chances.

He watched as Emma buzzed around the space quickly, picking up her purse and checking to make sure everything was still safely tucked inside before she turned back to face him once again.

"Would you um… would you mind grabbing that for me?" she asked, nodding her head at the gift basket on the floor by the dressing table. "If I don't take it with me, they'll think I'm being rude."

"Of course."

Killian wasn't at all surprised to find the best of the best inside of it. The fruit was all perfectly shaped, boldly colored, and wonderfully shiny. The champagne was a brand he'd only ever heard of, but had never really seen in the grocery store before. And the chocolates were a brand that Mary-Margaret had once gushed about when she'd been given them as a gift, but refused to buy for herself because of how expensive they were.

"You uh… you can have all of that if you want it," Emma told him, when they finally left the room to head for the rear exit. "It's all stuff I have at home anyway. And I'm guessing this wasn't exactly your idea of fun tonight."

"My job is rarely fun these days, Emma," he sighed. "But this gift was meant for you. I couldn't accept it. Besides, you've already given me enough."

"Huh?"

"The stuff you gifted to Ellie," he elaborated. "She was over the moon with it all. And Liam tells me that he doesn't think he's seen her this happy in years. You really didn't need to go to all of that trouble for her."

"It's fine," Emma assured him, waving away his praise like she was embarrassed to be on the receiving end of it. She said nothing more as one of the studio's assistants pulled open the door for them to leave through, and wished them both a good evening. But when the heavy metal swung shut behind them, she spoke up again. "I'm aware that I wouldn't be where I am today without fans like your niece supporting me. So I like giving back to them whenever I can. She won't be the only person getting free tickets to this tour. We try to give a few away for each date."

"Well, after what you did for Ellie, I think you might have converted my brother into a fan too," Killian chuckled. "My car's over here," he added, inclining his head in the direction of one of the only vehicles left in the lot.

"Does that mean the whole Jones family are now Team Emma?"

"Ha! I suppose it does."

When they came to a stop just in front of his Chevelle, Emma's eyes widened a little with her surprise. She'd been expecting him to drive something boring and practical, like a truck or an SUV. She hadn't been expecting the classic sports car that he was busy trying to unlock while juggling the gift basket in his arms.

"This is yours?" she clarified, as she watched him open the trunk and place the basket inside, before he came back around to pull open the passenger's side door for her.

"Yep. This is mine."

"Wow. You are just full of surprises, aren't you?" she chuckled, smoothing her skirt down around her legs to slide elegantly into the seat. Killian closed the door softly behind her before he jogged his way around the vehicle to drop down into the driver's seat.

It had been a while since he'd had a passenger in his car, and even longer since that passenger had been a beautiful woman. Getting his key into the ignition to start the engine proved to be more difficult than it had ever been before, as he tried to surreptitiously commit the image of Emma in his car to his mind. After all, it was unlikely he'd ever get another chance to see Emma Swan that way again.

"Not what you were expecting?" he teased, when he finally had the engine started and the car in drive.

"Not at all. But it uh… it suits you."

Killian cocked a brow in question but Emma quickly became distracted as she scrolled through the playlist he had been listening to on his way to the studio. He'd completely forgotten that he'd added a few of her tracks to it earlier that week, and Emma said nothing when she stumbled over them. But the surprise of finding her own music there was more touching than she'd expected it to be.

Killian nodded his head at Phillip as he glided his car into a parking spot just outside of Emma's home. A part of him wanted to check in with the junior agent ASAP, and see if anything suspicious had occurred while the house had been empty. But he knew that doing so could result in Phillip's cover being blown, so instead, Killian slid his keys from the ignition and unbuckled his belt, as Emma did the same thing.

He quickly jogged around the front of the car to pull open her door before she could reach for the handle, and watched as she climbed out of the vehicle just as elegantly as she'd gotten into it.

"Thanks," she said, offering him another small smile as she made her way past him and towards the front door. Killian followed her up the driveway to watch while she unlocked her home and took a few steps inside, flicking on the lights as she did. But before he could say his goodbyes, Emma turned back to ask, "Do you wanna come in?"

He knew that the answer to her question should be a resounding no. It was almost midnight and he needed to be at work early the next day. But Emma's eyes seemed to be pleading with him to say yes, so against all rational thought, Killian took a small step forward as he said, "Sure."

When he had the front door securely shut behind himself, he turned to follow Emma into the more familiar rooms of her home. Instead of settling down in the living room as he'd expected, she made her way through to the kitchen and began busying herself with the coffee machine there.

"Is decaf, okay?" she asked, turning to look at him over her shoulder. "I have enough trouble sleeping without adding caffeine to the mix."

"Decaf would be perfect."

When Emma's attention was back on the machine, Killian allowed himself a moment just to take in how stunning she looked that evening. Everything she was wearing fit her perfectly, showing just how toned she really was. And the color of the outfit only seemed to enhance the freckles that decorated her otherwise flawless skin. That band of bare skin just above her waistband was so enticing, and Killian found himself clenching his hands into fists by his side, as he wondered just how soft it would feel under his fingertips.

"So um… what did you think of the performance?" Emma asked suddenly, startling him out of his fantasy.

"It was good. Really good. You're clearly a natural on stage."

Emma turned around to face him as she leaned back against the counter while she waited for their coffee to brew. "I fell a little flat in the middle, but hopefully none of the fans will have noticed that."

"I certainly didn't," he assured her. "And from what I could tell of the audience, they didn't either."

"The critics will probably pick up on it and drag me for it. You should uh… you should perhaps keep an eye out for those pieces."

The mood in the room darkened instantly as Killian realized what she was implying, and he nodded his head in agreement before she turned back to the machine and busied herself with pouring them both a drink.

When they each had a mug in hand, Killian followed Emma's lead as she moved past him to head back to the living room. He dropped down carefully onto one side of the sofa and watched from the corner of his eyes as she set her coffee down on the table, and then took her own seat. Emma bent forward to unbuckle her shoes and slip them from her feet, arranging the strappy heels neatly beside the sofa, before she pulled her legs up and tucked them underneath herself as she reached for her coffee once more.

For someone who had spent most of the evening looking flawlessly stunning and oozing confidence in front of the cameras, Emma Swan looked surprisingly small and vulnerable at that moment.

"Everything's been so quiet," she eventually whispered, keeping her focus on the dark liquid in her mug, instead of his face. "Do you think he's stopped?"

"I don't know," Killian replied honestly, as he turned in his seat to face her. "It wouldn't be the first time a serial killer had taken a hiatus. But…"

"They always start up again," she finished for him. It was her biggest fear; that one day she'd wake up to find another box waiting for her. And Emma knew that it would continue to be her biggest fear for the rest of her life, if this psychopath was never caught.

"Hopefully we'll catch a break before that happens."

She nodded her head but Killian could tell that she didn't truly believe that statement. And if he were being completely honest with himself, he wasn't sure he did either.

A tense silence settled over the room as they both sipped at their coffees. It was the kind of silence that told Killian accepting Emma's invitation into her home had been a bad idea. He had intended to do anything he could to make her feel more comfortable and to help her feel safe. To maybe stop her from turning to the booze again to soothe herself to sleep. But clearly that hadn't worked, as so far, both of their conversations had led to dark places. He was just contemplating the kindest excuse to use to take his leave when she spoke up again.

"I um… I like your car."

"You do?"

"Yeah. It's a Chevelle, right?"

"I'm impressed that you know that," he told her, raising his head to meet her eyes. "Most of the women I've known couldn't care less about it. But my car is probably the nicest thing I own."

"Do you wanna know a secret?" she asked, angling her body a little more towards his. When Agent Jones gave a slight bob of his head, she continued, "You know those car shows on the Discovery channel, right? They're kind of my guilty pleasure." Emma giggled, as the federal agent quirked a brow in her direction that said he clearly didn't believe her. "It's true! I swear. One of my exes used to watch them religiously. I guess his love for Diesel Brothers must have rubbed off on me."

Killian shook his head a little in disbelief and then drained the rest of his coffee, before leaning forward to set the mug down on the table.

"You know it suits you, right?" she continued.

It took him a moment to realize what she was talking about, but when he did, he asked, "In what way?"

"It's one of those cars that kind of screams bad boy at ya. And although you're one of the good guys, these tight black sweaters you love, and this-" She reached out to tug on the bottom of the black leather jacket he was wearing, and Killian was hit with an unexpectedly intense burst of her perfume as she did. "-This kinda screams bad boy too."

"Maybe I um… maybe I should get a new wardrobe then?" he teased awkwardly, because suddenly the atmosphere in the room had changed again, and this time, he could feel a familiar charge building in the space between them.

"God, no. This look really works for you."

Killian hadn't realized that she was still holding on to his jacket until he felt her fingers brush across his stomach as she traced the path the zipper took.

"Emma."

He wasn't sure what it was that he wanted from her, but Killian's voice came out as surprisingly needy at that moment, as he felt himself sway into her touch.

"Agent Jones," she countered seductively, before fisting the fabric of his coat to pull his lips down to hers.

While a small part of his brain knew that everything about the moment was wrong, the instant the soft fullness of her lips brushed against his, Killian was lost. He brought one hand up to hold the back of her head as he pressed his lips to hers with just as much fever as she'd shown.

There was nothing soft or sweet about the moment. Emma kissed like she was a dying woman who needed his lips to stay alive, and he couldn't seem to stop himself from returning each and every one of her desperate little nips with her teeth, and teasing flicks of her tongue. The arousal that he'd been stamping down all evening flared to life at the feel of her hands on his body, urging Killian to hold her tighter and pull her in closer.

His free hand found its way to her waist as he jerked her across the sofa so that he could move her into a more natural position, and Emma's own slipped under the jacket she'd previously been holding onto, her fingers clawing at the fabric of his sweater over his back. When his thumbs brushed lightly against the bare skin above the waistband of her skirt she released a desperate and dirty moan - and the sound of it was like a bucket of iced water to his senses.

Killian pulled back almost as fast as the kiss had begun while he fought to control his breathing.

Emma clearly hadn't gotten the same memo, as she leaned back in to begin feathering her lips down the column of his throat.

"Emma… Stop. We uh… we can't do this," he told her gently, as he brought his hands up to lightly grip the tops of her shoulders and hold her in place, while he shifted further across the sofa to put some space between the two of them.

"Why not? I know you're attracted to me," she pressed, leaning in a little closer. "And in case it wasn't obvious to you, I've been flirting with you all night."

"It's not about that. It's… I'd be taking advantage of you, Emma. You're young and vulnerable right now. This… it's wrong. You're not really attracted to me. It's a hero complex. You're attracted to the safety and comfort you think I can provide you with, that's all."

"Excuse me?" she asked, her tone icy sharp as she straightened up in her seat. "Are you seriously trying to use my age and my… my… victimhood to tell me that I don't know my own mind right now?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I think you should leave."

"Emma, I didn't-"

"I said leave," she snapped, as she pushed herself up to her feet and stormed across the room. "Get out and don't bother coming back."

She was gone before Killian could even think of anything to say that would make the situation better.

Thanks for being so patient with me while I battle these health issues. Hopefully once this next surgery is out of the way, I'll be a little more reliable.

When I do get back to a more regular routine, this piece will update every other week given that the length of chapters has almost doubled. (Just so I'm not spending more time in a week editing than doing the job I actually get paid for)