A/N: Well, that 'quick' update was held up a little as I waited to replace my broken laptop. I'm posting with only a brief once-over since I hoped to get it out sooner, so all of the numerous mistakes are most certainly mine. I hope you enjoy!

"That isn't going to fit there, Neal," Emma insisted, doing a miraculous job of not rolling her eyes. "It needs to go in the trunk."

"The trunk's full, Emma."

"I know, but the cooler bag fits better behind the driver seat, this one's too bulky, and if we move the –"

Neal gave the suitcase another solid push, wedging it between the seats with a satisfied grunt. "There, see, I told you it would fit."

"Great," Emma deadpanned, already over the joys of packing the car for what Neal insisted would be the best cross-country trip ever. She wasn't thinking about how stupid it was to put the cooler bag with the snacks and drinks in the trunk. She really wasn't, because mentioning it a third time wasn't going to help. It really wasn't. "I'll drive."

"No, no—I got it, I'm driving."

"The whole trip?"

"Well, at least the first leg. We want to get this off to a good start, am I right?" he teased, shooting her one of those smiles she used to find charming. "You can be my copilot."

"Sounds...great."

She double checked that the trunk was closed and walked around the back of the sedan—a Lexus she'd eventually replaced her old bug with when she could finally afford something that ran more often than it broke down—quickly flicking on her phone screen to check for any updates from Regina before Neal could see and say something—this trip is for us, Em, not for work.

With nothing new, she pocketed her cell and slipped into the passenger's seat with a hopeful smile. Maybe Neal was right, maybe this trip would be exactly what she needed to remind her of why they had fallen for each other in the first place, the way to rekindle that spark, so to speak.

She turned to say something—hey, I'm glad we're doing this—but was met with Neal twisting and making a pained faced as he tried to get comfortable in the seat.

"What the hell is wrong with this car, Emma?" he grumbled, swiping beneath the seat in search of something. "Where's the freaking—ah, got it!"

He finally found the adjuster and released it, pushing back to get some more leg room, only to be met by the firm resistance of the suitcase he'd shoved behind the seat.

"Seriously!" he snapped, throwing wide the door and stomping out, Emma flinching slightly as he jerked open the back door and it bounced on its hinges.

She bit back the words she wanted to say—hey, watch the doors, buddy. I paid for this, not you…and by the way, I told you it wouldn't fit there—because she had at least a week to look forward to in this car with him. A week of navigating, arguing over the radio, and sightseeing that Neal insisted was necessary.

God, what had she signed herself up for?

The entire car shifted as Neal jerked and wiggled the suitcase loose from the floor, dragging it outside and around the back of the sedan. Emma watched in the rearview as the trunk popped open and the suitcase was tossed in, the cooler bag lined with waves swinging into view as he slammed it shut.

She didn't say anything as he dropped the cooler bag comfortably behind the driver's seat and climbed back in, adjusting his position. The car started with less protest than Emma felt in her stomach. She wondered how long she'd have to wait to be able to say anything at all without him snapping at her—he'd always been a bit like that, needing the time to brood and get over his own feelings before she could engage him –not that he'd shown that side right away.

It turned out that the answer was not ten minutes later when she grabbed a Yoo-hoo from the cooler and asked if he was thirsty.

Emma stepped around the side of the gas station with her cell pressed to her ear, sweat dripping from her hairline. They were somewhere in New Mexico and between the mistake she'd made in agreeing to this road trip to begin with and Regina calling to chastise her for it, she wasn't in the best of moods.

She listened to the last few snippy comments and hummed her assent before the line went dead and she shoved the phone in her pocket. It hadn't taken long for her to regret the entire ordeal, and two and half days in, she was trying to figure out ways she could pay someone to drive her car to Maine, buy a return ticket for Neal to LA, and get herself to the filming location as quickly as possible. Rather than remembering why they'd fit so well in the first place, all of her misgivings about the relationship were just getting buried beneath new worries and fears.

"Maine, Emma?" Neal exclaimed, the shock of the news leaving him with almost nothing to say. "Maine? What the fuck is in Maine?"

"A great opportunity, Neal."

"Yeah, for you!"

"Well, the job is for me, so that's kind of the idea," she retorted, not quite what he was expecting when she said Regina had lined up a great offer for her across the country.

"Did you even think about me at all, did you think about us?"

"I did, but I figured we could make something work."

"So, you were just planning on leaving me behind?"

She would have felt bad if he actually looked hurt, but he looked more annoyed than anything else.

"I thought you could come out if you wanted to."

"And what, hang around in the woods all day while you work?"

"Why not?" she finally snapped, her patience absolutely shredded. "It's what you do here—hang around the apartment and go out drinking with your buddies instead of looking for work. What would really be so different, Neal, some fresh air?"

"Nice, Emma, real nice. You know, it wasn't easy losing my job and then having to be reminded about how much more successful you were every time I came home. That does a number on a guy—and I have been looking for something…I've been doing auditions left and right. They just don't want me."

She shouldn't have felt guilty. She didn't need to apologize for being successful just to make her boyfriend feel better, but the anger did start to slip away from her. It wasn't hard to remember how much she'd struggled before she got her breakout role, and yeah, it probably wasn't easy coming home to a girlfriend who was overloaded with work and offers when every day was a reminder you were struggling. Still, it didn't mean she should give up a good opportunity.

"I've already signed on, and this role could mean big things for me, Neal—moving on from the same stuff I've been doing over and over on the networks. It's important to me. I'm tired of playing the same characters. Can you at least try to understand that?"

"I don't want to lose you, Em. I don't want to do a long-distance thing, it won't work. Couldn't you take something closer?"

"Why don't you come out for a while? I'll find a place and then you can fly back and forth, or I can if there's time."

"And be your boy toy, hanging around set? I don't know."

"I don't know what else to do, Neal."

She did know what to do, what the answer might be, but she couldn't say it, wasn't ready to. Emma hadn't had many good relationships—scratch that, any—but she still remembered how great things were at the beginning with Neal. She wasn't sure if she was ready to let go of the chance of getting it back, the way they'd careened from one day to the next, never making plans and just enjoying each hour as it came.

"Do you think there could be a spot on the show for me?"

"What?" she asked, genuinely confused. Was he asking her to find him work? "A spot on the show?"

"Yeah, you know, maybe there's a side character they haven't cast, or even something I can do on set. I can't come out there and just be your boyfriend, Emma. I need to have a reason."

Emma pushed down how much those last words stung.

"I don't know," she hedged, suddenly uncomfortable with what he was asking. "I suppose I can ask Regina if they're still auditioning for anything, or if there's anything on the crew they need to fill."

"That'd be amazing, Ems! Hey, you know what we should do? Road trip out there—it'll be a great way to get in a little vacation before you start long hours on set."

It was not, it turned out, a great idea, but now she didn't know how to get out of it without being a complete bitch.

Regina had responded to her request with a long stretch of silence and a tight 'I'll see what I can do', and by some miracle, or as it turned out, curse, Neal had ended up getting a gig with lighting thanks to some experience he had from back before he tried his hand at acting.

She'd felt pretty grimy over the whole thing ever since.

If she told Regina that Neal wasn't coming, that she'd changed her mind and didn't think it was best he join her, she'd look like a complete idiot before she even got a chance to make a first impression—and with the people she was getting to work with, she did not want that to happen. She just hoped bringing Neal along didn't end up being an even worse impression.

Emma slid her cell reluctantly back into her pocket. She felt cornered with no satisfactory way out.

Neal had already climbed back into the car and she could see him craning his neck, probably eager to get back on the road and on his way to whatever amazing destination he had planned next. She dropped into the seat next to him, almost jumping when he tossed something crinkly onto her lap.

"Look, apple danish, your favorite, right?"

Emma picked up the sticky pastry wrapped in plastic. She didn't have the heart to tell him she hated apples.

It was going to be a long week.

"No Molly?" Cora inquired, not bothering to look up from her cell as Killian slotted his carry on into the overhead bin.

"Milah," he corrected, securing the latch and dropping to his seat next to her, "and no, she had something to attend and will be flying out separately in a few days."

"Well, at least I won't have to listen to her prattle on with everyone around us then. Did you sign the paperwork that Sidney sent over? The owner of the building wanted all of that back as quickly as possible."

"Aye, it's been taken care of," he assured his manager, " and I know you don't care for Milah, but you can bloody well keep your thoughts to yourself."

Cora's impeccably manicured finger hesitated over her phone momentarily before she hummed something that was probably a dismissal and went back to her other thoughts. It wasn't often he lost his temper with the woman, but nothing about this move to Maine and the new job had gone as planned. Perhaps that would teach him to make career decisions while sleep deprived and two glasses into a hangover.

At first, everything had seemed to be going smoothly. Milah was looking forward to traveling again, she always was, and was thrilled he'd found something to be excited about, but as the weeks passed and the time came to start planning a relocation, it was obvious that her enthusiasm was waning. He'd share the apartment listings he'd been sent over dinner, or while they relaxed on the couch, but there was always something wrong with each of them.

Filming for his latest movie—a biopic of Ned Kelly—had finally come to a close, leaving him with a much more open schedule, and he'd done his best to use it wisely, accepting invitations for restaurant and theatre openings that he would normally decline, Milah gamely at his side and enjoying every moment. She was happy then, he could see it in her face, but as soon as they were back at the apartment, Killian handing her a listing he thought could finally be the right one for their stay in Maine, the happiness was gone.

He didn't understand. She'd loved traveling with him to Australia to film the main chunk of the scenes for Bushranger. He knew Maine wasn't quite the same as Australia, but she loved to be outdoors, so he was sure they'd be able to find plenty to occupy their time, and it wasn't as if there wouldn't be breaks for travel elsewhere.

She'd grown increasingly morose and displeased as their departure grew closer. Cora's consistent nagging over the phone hadn't helped either—the two women had never gotten along, despite the fact that Milah had been a large part of Killian's life for the past few years. He almost wasn't surprised when Milah stated she would need to delay her flight out, that her dear friend was having an opening that very same night and she just couldn't miss it. He was disappointed, of course, they always flew together, but he bit the inside of his cheek, knowing the change was hard for her, and smiled.

It's no trouble, darling. It will give me time to get settled and then we can go exploring when you arrive.

She'd almost seemed upset that he wasn't more upset, but what was he to do? He knew he should be grateful for his career—and he was—but he was tired of filming all over the world, tired of the non-stop flying and travel and premieres in countries he could neither remember nor name because they came one after the next. He was craving a bit of peace and quiet, and maybe the ability to make some friends that he would actually be able to spend more than a few hectic months with. He just wanted something to ground him, to feel settled, even if it was only for a little while. This series would provide that if it got picked up.

"If you don't stop," Cora snapped, flicking his fingers from the fold down tray he had been tapping them on without even realizing it, "they're going to assume your nerves are due to something entirely more seditious than marital problems. Can you imagine the headlines? Killian Jones, international movie star removed from airline under suspicion of—"

"Stop it," he growled, noticing that the flight crew was in fact paying close attention to him, he could only hope it was because they knew who he was, "and we're not married."

"Yes, interesting, isn't it? One would think the lovely Miley would have a ring by now."

"It's—bloody hell, Cora, haven't you got something productive to do? Something I pay you for?"

"You pay me to be your manager. That's what I'm doing."

"A job description that does not include relationship advice, if I recall."

Despite the fact that he was studiously avoiding her gaze, he could sense her heavily-lidded side eye. Cora was a force to be reckoned with in the entertainment industry. She'd come up as a young actress and fought her way through a male dominated industry to become the power-wielding builder of stars that she was today—and some would call her heartless for it, but Killian Jones knew better. She measured her success by the success of her clients, so she was just as invested in making sure they made no missteps in their career. That's how he knew this series was the right one, at the right time for him. He just hated how Cora's pointed jabs were able to worm their way through to that one place inside of him where there was a question that he didn't want to answer.

Why hadn't he asked her yet?

Despite wishing he could leave his doubts behind him, they stayed with him as the plane taxied and eventually took off, soaring out of LAX and to the place that would be his home for the foreseeable future. He was very much looking forward to meeting the cast and crew. It had been some time since he'd worked on a series, and from what he remembered, there was always a sense of camaraderie that developed when it was just the right fit. He hoped that was the case. There were a few old hands that would be taking on roles, people he was very much looking forward to working alongside, and then there were some lesser known people, some of them that he'd heard of, and others that would be new faces indeed. It seemed like it would be a good mix, and from the small glimpses of writing he'd seen, the show had a lot of promise.

Even with his heart still heavy that Milah was back in LA while he flew cross country alone, he somehow managed to slip into a brief sleep, one more testament to the exhaustion that hadn't really left him when shooting stopped.

When he woke, it was with a refreshed excitement he hadn't felt in some time, but he couldn't quite shake the tumultuous feeling that this decision was a big one, and that it would change things for him in an irreversible way—he just hoped it was all for the better.