A/N: I should probably stop making promises in terms of my updates, because I am not even reaching my own deadlines. Here's the new chapter. The title comes from (another) RHODES song. I hope you like the reunion of our two favorite people.

"Are you nervous?"

The fast thumping in his chest cavity answers that question. The past half hour the speed of his heart beating has increased considerably. Every second that ticks away means an extra heartbeat. Nervous is an understatement.

"Yes," Killian replies to Aurora's question. "It's been awhile since I've seen her and last time we didn't really leave things on the right foot."

Two weeks have gone by since the talk Killian had with Emma's best friend Mary Margaret. After the promise on her part to invite Emma -you can also say lure but that makes the entire thing a bit more shady- to the coffeehouse and to cause a conversation between Emma and him, she had kept him updated on any progress. Eventually Mary Margaret succeeded and set a date for a meeting.

Today.

He's going to see her again today.

It is needed. He has all of these things he wants to tell her. Things that she needs to hear and indulging into her radio silence just won't do.

"I'm certain it will work, Killian," Aurora says, her hand settling on his shoulder and giving a squeeze of encouragement. A testimony of her support in the matter. Something Killian appreciates a lot.

"Thank you."

A shuddering breath escapes. He is too stressed. It's not the best combination: Killian and stress, but he just can't help it. So he tries to defer his internal tension by putting the focus on Aurora's life.

"How is everything going between you and Philip?"

The question causes a small smile on the woman's face, a sweet one indicating that the quarrel she and her husband had, is over. Her pale hand goes up to remove an auburn lock clouding her vision.

"Great. Amazing even. We discussed our fight and you were right. Philip had some trouble at work and was upset about that. And with my hormones going crazy due to the pregnancy, it kind of gave it an explanation." she says.

It takes Killian a few seconds to realize what Aurora's announcing. She's expecting a baby.

"Aurora, how joyful! Congratulations!" he replies to the news.

Killian must admit that he is relieved. In the back of his mind it all makes sense now. The cravings she had and the significant mood swings. Its cause could be found with the child and not one of the theories full of pessimism Killian cooked up.

"Thank you. It's still early and it will be months until I actually quit working, so don't worry about it yet," she says while sending him a reassuring look.

"I don't need to. I'll just have to give Tink a full-time contract in your absence. I'm fairly amazed that she hasn't suggested it herself."

Killian grins. His legs take him to the door to turn the open sign and with that to welcome the crowd of the morning rush. He walks back to Aurora, who is placing the sweet and savory treats in a way that they just look that bit more appealing.

She continues their conversation.

"That's probably because I haven't told her yet."

The small contraction of his brows shows his confusion.

Tink is one of Aurora's best friends. Surely it can't be right that she's told him before her best friend. It most likely was a slip. Her mouth speaking before her mind could catch up and then she just went with it. Or it could be that Killian is her boss and she thought it would be best that he's informed early on.

That's it.

But Killian can't keep himself from asking.

"You haven't told Tink yet?"

Aurora shakes her head and her curls softly move along.

"I haven't seen her since we found out," she says as a simple explanation.

"Who have you told?" Killian asks.

He pretends like it's a question of no great importance, but secretly the answer does mean a lot to him.

Aurora gets a pensive expression on her face, backtracking the people she has told the happy news.

"Well, there's you, Mulan."

That's a name Killian hasn't heard before. Aurora picks up the unfamiliarity and explains, "She's Philip's best friend and a great one of mine, too. Obviously we told my dad and Philip's parents, but that's it. Besides them, we haven't told anyone else yet. That will come when we see them, of course. I'm not really a fan of telling people via text or email." She scrunches her nose to emphasize her distaste.

"Which is understandable," Killian agrees.

His lips close in a silent um while he's scanning the room for things that need to be done. Killian doesn't know what else to reply. He's one of the first people to know the girl is pregnant. That's a big role and he is merely her boss. Aurora telling him shows that he's more than her boss, that he's her friend.

The strange thing is Killian considers her his friend. Why does everything freak him out lately? He should get a grip.

"Killian, are you alright?" A trace of concern is being expressed by Aurora's features.

"Aye, fine. I just forgot to place the board outside. I'll quickly do that if you don't mind."

The chalkboard is lifted off the ground and hauled outside. The big, white letters (courtesy of Tink) on the black background promote the shop.

A Cup of Jones, the finest brand you'll ever get.

Killian had to train himself to not cringe every time he reads the slogan his brother Liam decided would be perfect.

How can the notion perfect differ so much in their minds?

Shrugging, Killian walks back inside. It's been some time since he's heard something from Liam. The last letter Killian sent to him was before all of the Emma drama. He mentally counts the weeks that have passed. Eventually he comes to the conclusion that a letter from Liam should arrive shortly and he's glad. He misses his brother.

The first customers follow behind Killian and officially start the day.

"Good morning and welcome to "A Cup of Jones". What can I get you?"

His eyes skim over the letters another time.

Hello, Killian.
It took me some time, but I've finally succeeded. Emma has agreed to meet me (you) on Wednesday the 17th. I told her to come around 11.30 am. Good luck. Mary Margaret

Next, they go up to the clock hanging in front of him. Any moment now. He tries not to focus on the door opening and closing, but fails. With each movement his eyes fly over to the entrance and then go back to his work, disappointed when it's not her golden locks coming in but bland, brown ones. When it's not her red jacket, but a green coat. When it's not Emma, but an insignificant person.

The door opens again and it's finally who he has been waiting on. Her eyes have a distrustful look, like a skittish, wild animal carefully treading on unknown territory. Killian can't blame her, a lot of things have happened here and it's still his shop. The moment Emma is completely inside, she instantly turns. She walks over to an empty corner, her gaze not even daring to go to the counter. A brown, leather chair is placed there and Emma sits down in it. Her beanie stays on her head and she doesn't take off her jacket. She's ready to bolt if needed.

Killian takes a breath and cautiously approaches. If he thought his heart was beating fast before, he was wrong. He feels the beating reverberate in his entire body. A step further from the counter, another step closer to her. His chest rises with the last breath he takes, trying to gather his courage.

"Emma," he says to her back. The sound of his voice is more secure than he felt or than he was expecting.

Emma flinches, her entire face wincing only by hearing him. Her green irises are hidden by her closed eyelids as she straightens her back.

And so it evaporates. The last bit of hope.

He wants to go back, back to the counter pretending like he never approached her, maybe even back in time. Before he knew her. He was lonely back then, but never did it feel this agonizing. Just him being near to her makes her uncomfortable.

Killian considers it, he really does, but realization strikes. If he doesn't, Emma has come here for no reason. Mary Margaret deceived her best friend for nothing. Aurora and Tink have helped him for nothing. He has spent weeks thinking of her, missing her, wanting to see her for exactly that.

Nothing.

"I realize that you were expecting Mary Margaret," he carefully commences, "And I'm presumingly the last person that you want to see, but I simply felt that if I didn't tell you something, I'd never truly be able to conclude whatever it is we had."

Emma's eyes are open again; her look is indecisive. As if she doesn't know what to feel. Killian wants to snort, neither does he. He lets his words linger in the air for a moment, giving her the chance to stop him and to end it all herself.

The moment passes and her eyes are still on his. Killian attributes it to her curiosity, to her wanting to know what direction he's going. He doesn't dare to place it on anything else.

"It's odd, you know? I've known you for mere months and somehow I've already held several monologs. I can assure you that this is the last one." His lips curl.

"Emma, you have to love yourself," he says candidly, "I'm saying this as someone who spent ages- and I mean ages- loathing himself over things that happened in the past. Everyone has a past and yours is no different. So please, stop seeing it as an excuse to detest yourself. Because it's obscuring the truth from you. You are an incredible woman, I have said that before but you don't believe it and you should."

Emma's gaze has wandered to the coffee table, staring at it with great purpose. Killian, still standing up next to the chair where she's sitting, continues.

"Don't you see, Emma? You have all of these people who love you, with all of their hearts and you're hurting them by saying things like you ruin everyone's life. They are right beside you and if you'd just listen more, you would hear how you've improved their lives. It's all right to be happy, to live your life and love yourself. It takes some work, I for one know, but you'll feel so much better."

Killian stops talking, not having anything else prepared and being convinced that the things he needed to say have been said. If this doesn't do it, he has no idea what will. He looks back at Emma, who has moved her stare from the table to the wall.

It's silent, it has been for a while and Killian is still located in the same spot. His hand goes up to rub his head.

"Um, that's about everything I wanted to say. I hope I haven't been too out of line."

No answer from Emma's side.

"All right, goodbye, Emma and take care of yourself," he finally says, lifting his foot to tread backward.

It doesn't sting as much as he thought it would, saying goodbye to her. Instead, it feels liberating. Like he's able to move again after spending too much time in a confined space.

Killian spins on his feet to turn around but Emma's hand is there to stop him before he can. He follows the arm blocking him alongside her shoulder covered with her blond hair, her neck, ultimately halting at her face. Tears are creating a path; from spilling out of her eyes to running over her cheeks. Her lips move, the sound coming out of them so soft that Killian has to ask what she has said.

Softly shaking her head, she repeats.

"Don't go."

Killian gulps a breath of air and comes closer to her again. He places himself on his knees to get a better look at her. His upper legs touch the worn leather of the seat. Instinctively, his thumbs go and brush away the tears from her creamy skin.

"Just don't go." Her shaking enhances, Killian wraps his hands around her face.

"I won't," is his simple reply.

Their heads rest against one another, noses brushing and the only thing Killian can think is "I love you." and it's far too premature for that and they barely even know each other and it'll be some time before he can actually tell her that and still, that's how he feels.

Emma closes the minuscule distance between them by connecting their lips. Her cheeks are still wet and Killian knows she is still crying.

"Why are you still crying, love?" he asks in soft tone when the kiss is over.

Emma sniffs and uses her wrist to wipe away the new stream of tears.

"I don't know. It's all a bit overwhelming, I guess," Emma admits. "Thank you, Killian."

"I did nothing, Swan." Killian shrugs.

"But you did," she says, kissing him again, smothering any attempt to lessen the effect of his actions.

"My shift is over; do you want to take a stroll around the park?"

There's a lot they need to talk about and a stroll would be the perfect opportunity for that.

Emma smiles, a sight he has missed and he automatically copies it.

"I'd love to, but I have to go and get Henry from school."

Killian's lips form an o. Henry is one of those things they have never really discussed. Killian would gladly meet the boy, to get to know him, but how long will it take before Emma is willing to let them interact?

"Do you want to come with?" she asks, like she's read his mind. Her hands trace his jawline while her eyes only radiate softness.

"With all my pleasure, Swan."

You have a boat?" The boy looks completely amazed.

"Aye, I do," Killian replies, "Her name is the Jolly Roger Junior."

"I love Peter Pan! It's my favorite fairytale."

They're sitting on a bench, the three of them, talking and munching on the bagels from the coffeehouse. The park is full of life and children now that the school day is over.

Killian had slowly followed Emma to Henry's school, unsure of the boy's reaction to a strange man accompanying his mother to come pick him up. Killian's gaze scanned all of the children. He had no clue what Henry looked like but perhaps he could recognize some of Emma's traits in him.

Suddenly he stood before them, Emma's son, smiling at his mother. Henry's brown eyes quickly went to Killian and for a second neither Emma nor Killian were able to find the right words. They weren't even able to utter anything. So Henry had simply extended his hand towards Killian and introduced himself, getting rid of all the unnecessary tension.

Killian chuckles, yet another thing they have in common. Emma has been silent for a while, simply following the connecting between the two people sitting on both sides of her. Her face glows with happiness.

"I'll tell you a secret, lad." Killian leans closer to them, his voice a not so quiet whisper. "I like Captain Hook better than I like Peter Pan. I think it is because I'm a bit of a scoundrel meself."

He winks and Emma raises her brow in a challenge, a smile planted on her face.

"But you have to admit that that perm and the waxed mustache are unforgivable."

"Swan, I'll have you know that in the book Captain James Hook is described as a handsome man with eyes the color of a forget-me-not. So I'm not taking any of your Disney nonsense."

"He's got a point, mom," Henry admits.

Emma raises her hands in defense, already being overmastered by their joined forces. Her smile never falters, though.

"Alright, alright. I said nothing." She turns towards Killian. "Killian, do you think Henry and I could join you some time on your boat?"

She is making plans for the future. It may be the near future but at least it's being acknowledged. And he's bonding with her son. Does this mean they've suddenly become an item? It's nearly impossible that they haven't. Killian's heart leaps. This is what he wanted.

"Give me a date and I'll show you the captain's life on the sea," he agrees.

"Thank you, Killian!" Henry says.

"You are very welcome, lad."

He smiles at the boy and gets a wide grin in return.

"Henry, we need to go," Emma says.

Henry immediately shows that he doesn't want to with the sad expression on his face. Before he can complain about it, Emma already opens her mouth to speak with her rational mom voice.

"Didn't you promise to clean your room before you went to Avery's house?" The question is only rhetorical and leaves no room for Henry to argue.

"Yes…"

Henry still tries to find an argument but fails.

"Alright," he reluctantly agrees.

"Bye, Killian. It was very nice to meet you, I really had fun today."

Killian sees the genuine disappointment and earnestness in his goodbye. He feels it too.

"Goodbye, Henry. I enjoyed myself as well. I was serious about the sailing. Just make your mom send me a text and I'll happily take you out."

It makes Henry's disappointment disappear a little bit. They are all standing up now and Emma lightly drifts towards him. Henry quickly catches on and starts fumbling with his mobile phone.

"Thank you, Killian. For every bit of today," she says, looking him right in the eye. He's hit again by her and her beauty.

"Think nothing of it, Swan."

Emma's hand finds its way to his jaw, softly caressing the short hairs of his scruff. She doesn't answer but just places her cottony lips on his.

He can't deny that his pessimistic nature is lurking in the background waiting until something goes wrong again. Hiding in the shadows until its big 'I told you so' moment. Time to unravel the plot, it had been a trick since the start. A conspiracy of his mind. Business is thriving and they have never been more frequented by people. He has the support of his employees, he's able to call them his friends. Emma. Henry.

Emma.

It all seems too good to be true, but for today, he'll close his eyes and happily indulge in that fantasy.

Killian relishes the kiss and doesn't want it to stop but Emma's more or less teenage son is still standing next to them, so picking the better option, Killian breaks the kiss apart. However, he still can't refrain himself from tracing her face with his knuckles and she can't resist leaning her cheek into his touch.

"Goodbye, Emma." The way he says it lies somewhere between saying and sighing it.

"Bye, Killian," she replies, "I'll text you."

Emma doesn't specify about what but Killian would take anything.

She runs her tongue over her lips and turns around to Henry. Laying her arm around his shoulder, they start walking. Emma glances back a last time and smirks.

She'll be the actual death of him.

He's walking home and it seems like his smile is glued to his face. His hand goes to partially cover it in amazement. Killian's happy. Truly happy. This must be one of the first times he's felt this way since he left England. He runs up the stairs, having found a new source of energy and walks inside his apartment.

The scent of the stew brewing floats through the room, leaving a delicious aroma in every corner. He feels something vibrate in his pocket and speedily sets down the spoon he was using to determine if the concoction needed more spicing. His phone appears from under the material of his pants. Killian has received a text. From Emma. The grin only broadens.

Henry says (and I quote) that you're cool and that he likes you. I thought you would want to know. -E

Did he now? And what does his lovely mother think?

Killian doesn't need to see her to know that the moment she reads that text, she'll roll her eyes, but most likely with a smile on her face.

I guess you're alright. Not too hard on the eyes, okay kisser, though the accent could use some work -E

You wound me, Swan. Here I was, wanting to use every form of (positive) superlative I know and you say that.

Killian sets down his phone to get something to drink. His hand reaches for the handle of the wooden cupboard, opens the door and takes out glass. After taking it, he walks to the sink and opens the tap to let the glass fill. Because of its placement on the table, the buzzing of his cell phone is enhanced. At first it buzzes once, but then another time and Killian realizes that he's being called.

Glass in hand, he runs over to the table in his living room and sees "Emma" written largely on his screen. His fingers instantly swipe to take the call.

"Okay," she starts, "Maybe you're gorgeous and an amazing kisser and maybe your accent kinda turns me on and I might really like you," Emma says in one breath.

Killian chuckles.

"I've never been this showered with compliments. Emma, the feeling is mutual. The only difference is that I know you're gorgeous and an amazing kisser. Besides, I just really like you."

Killian also really loves her.

"Good," Emma answers.

"Not that I mind, love, but did you call only to say that?"

Killian settles in his couch, taking a sip of his water while waiting on her answer.

"If I sent you that as a text, I'm sure you would've taken a screenshot of it and sent it to all of your friends to brag."

Killian doesn't reply. He knows it isn't the real reason, so he waits until she thinks she can tell him.

"Alright, I feel like we have a lot to discuss and I would love to do it face to face. I even considered coming over seeing that Henry's not home, but I got scared."

Even though finding out Emma became scared isn't ideal, it is a big step. She's admitting it, telling him her problems. More importantly, she is not running.

"There's no need for that, Emma," Killian reassures her, "We'll take it slow. I'm a patient man."

She giggles through the line.

"I've noticed that. How you haven't given up on me already, beats me, but I'm really happy about that, Killian."

"I am too."

He gets back up, walking towards the stove to turn it off. It would be a shame for one of his first decent meals in weeks to be burnt and ruined. He speaks again.

"How's work?"

They talk for hours, first starting with a tentative conversation about banalities, work and life in general. He tells her that Aurora's pregnant, she tells him that Ruby is getting married to her girlfriend. But as the hour progresses, they start digging deeper. Their pasts, the reason why they are both jagged, the subject they both avoid with great care, get partially unfolded. They talk about loneliness, the loneliness Killian felt when he arrived to the States without any friends or family to rely on, Emma mentions her solitude right after she gave birth to Henry and right before she met David.

Eventually, they both take the conversation to bed, separately tucking themselves in while still keeping the connection between them. One ear pressed against the soft pillow, the other against the hard phone.

Killian has heard her yawn several times and he has trouble to keep his own eyes open but he can't get himself to end the call. There are brief intermissions where he thinks she's fallen asleep, where he only hears her breathing and then she whispers to him again.

"Swan?" he says after a long pause.

"Yes?"

"You should go to sleep. You are clearly exhausted."

Killian stares into the dark room, his eyes not able to distinguish anything in the black of the night.

"No, no. I'm alright."

She tries to make her tone sound convincing but her sleepiness makes it completely void of any form of persuasion.

"You are about two seconds away from falling asleep on me, Swan. You should rest. We can continue talking tomorrow."

"You promise?" she asks with small voice

"I promise. Sleep well, love."

"You, too, Killian."

He lifts the corners of his mouth in a smile and ends the call. He can't wait to talk to her again.

There's music playing. Why is there music playing in the middle of the night?

Killian opens his eyelids. As the sleep slowly ebbs away, he recognizes his ringtone. He turns to his side to able to reach his phone on the nightstand.

Unknown number

He emits a sigh and pushes himself upright in his bed. His finger swipes to answer the call.

"Hello?" he says after clearing his throat.

"Hello, is this Killian Jones?" a man says.

"Yes"

"Good day, Mr. Jones."

The British accent of the man explains why he's being called right now. It's 10 am in London. The man continues.

"I'm calling with news concerning your brother Liam Jones."

No.

A/N: I'm so sorry guys! Please don't hate me for that ending, it pains me as much as you but it's just where my muse took me. I did say that the angst was only beginning. I'll try to update quickly (reviews do help accelerate that process ;) )