"Got another one for ya, Jones."

"Thanks," Killian sighed, holding out a hand for the file Masterson was offering to him.

Four long weeks after he'd been chewed out by his supervisor, Isaacs had summoned Killian back to the Bureau's office to give his best agent another sharp dressing down. For a moment, Killian had been pretty sure he was about to lose his job – and then he was handed the dreaded desk duty assignment. While reviewing case requests from local police departments was not his idea of fun, Killian had to admit it was nice being back in the office once more. It gave him something to do during the day that prevented his mind from wandering to the case he'd been booted from and the woman he'd been warned to stay away from. Of course, being back in the office meant he was closer to the investigation than he had been in over a month, and staying away was proving to be harder than he'd ever thought.

Killian slipped the next file onto the top of the shortest stack on his desk, then went back to the one he'd been reading through. While television shows often liked to portray FBI involvement in local cases as intrusive, Killian knew just how inaccurate that could be. Sure, there were some police departments that became a little territorial, but most just wanted the best help they could get for their cases, and often, the Bureau simply didn't have enough resources to meet all of their requests. That was where desk duty always came in.

Killian had just marked yet another request as REJECTED when his phone buzzed across his desk, startling his attention away from mentally calculating how many hours of his life it would take to get through the three stacks currently sitting beside him. Killian dropped his pen down to the tabletop and snatched up the device, expecting to see a message from his brother or his niece waiting for him, but he wasn't all that surprised to see another name lighting up his screen.

How's your first day back going? X

While Killian hadn't been able to physically see Emma Swan since he'd said goodbye to her the morning after their last tryst, he'd heard plenty from her. It hadn't taken him long to realize that while she was stubborn enough to refuse to leave her home, Emma was still terrified of being alone in it. She'd taken to calling him before she headed up to bed every day. After the third night of listening to her slowly fall asleep across the line, Killian had understood that even when he couldn't be physically present, just the sound of a familiar voice helped soothe her enough to give her the inner peace she so desperately needed.

It's going well, thanks. I'm stuck on desk duty – which I expected – but at least I'm doing something worthwhile with my time.

Sorry about that. X

Don't be! I'm an adult. I made my own choices.

How are rehearsals going?

Emma had confessed to him the night before that, given her rather spotty attendance record, she was planning to dive head-first into rehearsals for her upcoming tour the next morning. She knew her team had probably already given her a "difficult" or, god forbid, "diva" label as a result of how she'd behaved recently, but she had seemed genuinely determined to redeem herself in their eyes.

Tough! I need to get back into a better physical shape before this tour begins, or I'm not gonna make it through the set. X

I'm sure you're in better shape than I am.

Yeah, I doubt that. I still remember what it feels like to fall asleep on you. You weren't exactly soft! X

Killian chuckled a little at her words as he reached for the next file on the first stack beside his right arm and pulled it down to his desktop. He was just pondering how to reply to Emma's message when another of hers came through, halting his brain in its tracks.

I miss you. When can I see you again? X

Soon was the answer he wanted to give. While their nightly phone calls had definitely helped keep his concern for Emma in check, they hadn't completely beaten back his desire to wrap her up in his arms and never let go - just to keep her safe. But the sad truth of the matter was that he didn't know when they would see each other again. Even with David in his corner, finding a way to be close to Emma without word getting back to Isaacs was going to be tough. Emma was constantly surrounded by FBI agents. If they didn't fulfill their duties correctly and accurately report who she came into contact with, the Bureau had no hope of ever capturing her tormentor.

I'm not sure. But I'm working on it. I promise.

Okay. Just - don't take too long. I might forget what you look like if you do ;-)

I have to get back to work, but I'll talk to you soon, okay?

Enjoy the rest of your day. X

You too.

Killian dropped his phone down to the tabletop, then dragged a rough hand through his hair. He was going to need to have a very awkward conversation with David soon, and he really wasn't looking forward to that. But, until then, he had a request from the Palmdale Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department to read and respond to.

Killian carefully set his knife and fork down on his plate as he pushed his chair back from the table a little.

"Thank you so much, Mary. That was absolutely incredible, as always."

Across the table, Mary-Margaret waved away Killian's praise, but she couldn't quite hide the smile his words brought to her face.

"Thank you, Killian. It's nice to be appreciated, for once."

"I appreciate you!" David protested. At his wife's withering look, he hastened to add, "Okay, maybe I don't express that appreciation as much as I should, but I always appreciate you."

"Thank you, Honey."

Killian turned away from the happy couple as they leaned in to share a kiss and busied himself with taking a sip from his glass of water. Thankfully, his friends weren't the types of people to indulge in over-the-top displays of affection, and Mary-Margaret was soon on her feet, gathering up the dishes from their meal.

"Let me help with that," Killian offered, pushing himself up from his chair to stretch across the table for David's empty plate.

Just before his hand could land on the fragile china, Mary-Margaret's own came down on top of his in a light slap. "Don't be silly," she chided, "There isn't much. Besides, if I leave you two to load the dishwasher, half of this stuff will be missed, and nothing will be cleaned properly. Why don't you guys catch up for a bit while I get everything organized?"

Both David and Killian knew what she was trying to do, but neither one of them was brave enough to attempt to argue with her. So instead, they offered Mary-Margaret a soft smile and watched as she finished gathering the dishes to carry them from the dining room through to the kitchen. The moment the door swung shut behind her, a heavy silence seemed to settle between the two friends. Killian wasn't sure what to say to break it. There were so many questions on the tip of his tongue, and he knew he shouldn't ask any of them. Thankfully, David didn't seem to care.

"So, uh – Emma looks like she's doing better."

"Yeah, she is," Killian agreed.

David raised a brow in question, and Killian simply shrugged his shoulders. He still wasn't sure where to even start explaining his connection to her. He wasn't even sure he fully understood it himself, so there was no way he'd be able to make David understand it all.

"She's been getting out a little more," David continued. "At first, I was worried it would ramp up these killings, but her stalker seems to have fallen quiet. I don't know if that's something we should be grateful for or worried about."

Killian raised his eyes to meet David's, and the pair shared a look that said this was news to be worried about instead of grateful for.

"I guess it's too much to hope the bastard's been arrested for something else and will be out of our hair for a while," David sighed.

"Yeah. We never get that lucky," Killian chuckled bitterly. "I'm sure he's still out there somewhere - just biding his time."

"Thanks for that truly horrific thought," David threw back, shivering a little as ice-cold dread slithered its way down his spine.

The two men fell silent once more, each contemplating what they believed was coming their way before those thoughts became too much to bear, and David asked, "So, how's desk duty treating ya?"

Killian chuckled again as he fiddled with his napkin. "It's, um – it's really fucking boring," he admitted, laughing along with his friend. "But I guess it could have been much worse, so I'll suck it up and take it for as long as Isaacs thinks I should."

"If it's any consolation, this is LA, man. There's bound to be a case that pops up soon where we need you back out on the streets."

"Trust me, if these files are anything to judge by, there already is," Killian sighed, leaning back in his seat to scrub a harsh hand over his face. "I just… I just wish I hadn't fucked yours up for you."

"You haven't," David rushed to assure him. "Every lead we had went cold long before Isaacs took you off this case, and if he thinks I'm not gonna run new information past you when it comes up now, he clearly doesn't want what's best for his department."

Killian opened his mouth to protest, but David held up a hand to silence him.

"Look, I get it," he began carefully. "This was not the ideal time or situation for something like that to happen, but sometimes, life just finds a way, Killian. I'm not gonna be the person that stands between you and potential happiness just because of protocol, and I'm certainly not gonna refuse help from the best agent on our team when I need it. Besides, this guy has already proven he has no intention of getting himself arrested. I doubt we'll need to worry much about dealing with lawyers when this case is finally wrapped up. He seems more like the type to go out in a blaze of glory."

"I hope you're wrong about that one," Killian mused, because nothing would give him greater pleasure than seeing the guy who had tormented Emma so successfully live the rest of his life stuck behind bars.

"Me too," David agreed, but neither one of them looked terribly hopeful about the idea.

"So, what do you think? The gold or the silver?"

Emma bit down on her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing at the look on Killian's face. At that moment, his expression seemed to be screaming, 'what decisions did I make in life to bring myself to this precise moment in time?' It was far too cute for her to want to put an end to his misery any time soon.

"The, uh… the silver looks good with the… the… that thing… you're wearing, but the, um… the gold is, uh… it, um… it matches your hair," he offered, trailing off awkwardly.

Emma giggled as she picked up her phone and took a seat on the edge of the small sofa in her dressing room. "It's okay, Killian. I have a team of people who pick this stuff out for me. I just wanted to show off the designs a little. They were custom made for the tour, and I need to get used to moving around in them."

She lifted her feet from the floor and held her legs stretched out in front of her for as long as she could, before dropping them back to the ground. It had been far too long since she'd spent any time in thigh-high boots, let alone been expected to perform a three-hour set that involved many complicated dance routines while wearing them. Emma had a feeling she'd be living in her new boots for the foreseeable future.

"Well, they're uh, they're very nice boots."

"Thank you," she giggled, pulling her legs up to tuck underneath her. The leather of said boots was still a little stiff but not so unforgiving that they were uncomfortable to sit in. "How's your day been?" she asked.

"It was pretty uneventful," Killian explained, and Emma's heart ached a little for him.

Ever since he'd returned to work, Special Agent Killian Jones had done a good job of covering up how he truly felt about his new role within the FBI, but Emma could hear the truth in every word he spoke. She could tell that for all of his smiles and false bravado, he was hating every moment spent behind that desk, identifying cases the people around him would be spending their time investigating. And more than that – she hated that she was the reason for it.

"Are you sure I can't call your supervisor and get this straightened out?" she offered, for the second time in as many days. "I can tell him that it was all my fault – I got drunk and threw myself at you, and you didn't have much choice in the matter. Or I could go in the other direction and threaten to leak a story to the press about how he's keeping you from me, and we're desperately in love. The public loves a tragic romance story."

Killian snorted out a genuine laugh this time as he took a moment to consider what those headlines would look like.

"Thank you - but no. I don't think that would help. Besides, I'm a big boy. I can take a little desk duty if it means that we get you and the rest of the victims the justice they deserve."

Emma nodded her head in understanding but said nothing else. She didn't want to keep pushing a subject she knew was sensitive for Killian, just as he'd backed off asking about any drinks she'd had during her day. Instead, she took a moment to unfold her legs and stretch them out in front of her once more, appreciating the way the gold and silver sequins on each of her boots glittered under the soft lighting before she dropped her feet back down to the floor.

"So, when do you think you'll be able to slip away from it all?" she asked.

Killian offered her a bittersweet smile - and that was all she needed to know.

"I'm sorry, Emma, I just… I need to think of a way to see you without asking my friend to compromise evidence or risk his job for me. That's not fair to him or to your case. But I promise I'm working on it."

Emma hummed a little as she dropped her eyes away from her screen and down to her thighs. The lighting had combined with her fishnet stockings to create some interesting patterns on her skin, and she'd much rather spend her time studying those than allowing Killian to see just how much his words had stung.

"I promise, Emma, we'll find a way to see each other soon. I just want to do this the right way. I can't have other people lying for me to make this happen. That's not fair on anyone involved in this."

"I know," she mumbled towards her legs. "I get it. I just – I miss you, Killian. I sleep better when you're here."

Killian waited until her eyes had risen back to her phone screen before he finally said, "I miss you too, Emma. More than you'll ever know."

Towards the end of his third week back at work, Killian found himself once again buried under stacks of files from local police departments requesting the Bureau's assistance. Some were quick and simple to deal with. Any request not relating to a homicide was quickly marked for the appropriate department and forwarded on to them. Killian had learned pretty quickly that a glance through each file to determine which department's attention it needed would easily reduce his stacks by two-thirds. Then, it was just a simple matter of working out which of the homicide requests met the Bureau's criteria for involvement.

Killian was on his third file for the day when déjà vu struck. There was something about the crime scene images included with the report that felt eerily familiar to him.

"Hey, do you fancy – Nope!"

Killian's head shot up from the images he'd been staring at to find David standing in his office doorway. "Sorry, what did you say?" he asked.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to grab some lunch, but the look on your face tells me you're about to become too busy for that."

"Sorry, David," Killian explained. His attention was already drifting back down to the crime scene images he'd been examining. "I, uh – I need to look into this first. Raincheck?"

"I'll hold you to that," David promised, before pivoting on his heels to head back to his desk. Before he could get too far away, David called out, "Good luck," to his friend, but Killian had already turned away from him and was frantically thumbing through the different files sitting on a cabinet behind his desk.

Thankfully, it didn't take him long to find what he'd been looking for - a file he'd marked as a potential case for the Bureau that was dated just before he'd returned to work.

Killian pushed everything on his desk aside and then set both files down, side-by-side, so he could compare the crime scene images. It was hard to tell from pictures of fully dressed victims, but he was willing to bet that a closer look at both bodies would show a distinct wound pattern.

Flicking to the medical examiners' preliminary reports on each body, Killian read through the key points, making a note of the similarities between each case in his notepad. Both men were roughly the same age, height, and weight. Both had dark hair and blue eyes, and both men had been stabbed in the chest at least twenty-four times.

"Fuck me," he sighed, sitting back in his seat. Coincides had happened before, but this – surely this was too specific to be a coincidence?

Turning back to the first page of each of the files, Killian reached for his phone and tapped in the number listed for the LA County Sheriff's department in Palmdale. It didn't take him long to arrange a quick meeting with the deputies in charge of each case and viewings of each of the bodies for later that afternoon. With both case files and his notes tucked safely inside his bag, Killian headed out of the office and down to his car, hoping he would have enough time to swing past a local burger joint before he headed out to Palmdale for the rest of the afternoon.

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