Sorry for the delay, I was just being lazy. Also, I am a little sad more people aren't reviewing. I guess that kind of shows what kind of writer I am. lol I can't read minds. So please share any questions, comments, or concerns.

Alright well here is the next one. Enjoy.

Chapter Five

"So what exactly are we waiting for? He's right there." She moved her head to look past Graham's and motioned out the driver window.

Emma had read the file Graham gave her the night she came back from sailing with Killian. She couldn't sleep after a day filled with so much hope. Her mind had been racing with thoughts of Killian and her living situation and Neal and all the uncertainty of her future.

She can't help but think about Neal now as she sits in this car and stares through into the home. This case reminded her of him. Neal had started as a petty thief; loneliness could do that to you. She thought about when they met and the rush she felt after spending a day with him.

Emma sat behind a run—down building, her bag that held her entire life by her side. She's eighteen and alone. She thought her life would be different when she aged out of foster care— better maybe. She told herself she didn't need random people to help her survive, she could do it herself. Turns out she was wrong. She's been living on the streets for five months, and she has no idea how she's still alive. Her skin paled over the time and her hair dulled; lack of nutrition would do that to you. She had a job at a coffee joint, but when they found out she was homeless they fired her; "it will bring in the wrong business" they said.

Her stomach growled, she was really hungry. Emma got up and walked to a farmers market, maybe she could scrape enough money for something to eat. As she walked around the booths she scavenged through her bag. She didn't find much, $3 and change would get her something at least.

"You can't get a proper meal with that." Emma jumped in surprise and turned to the deep voice. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Come with me."

Emma looked incredulously at the stranger, "What? Why would I do that? I don't know you!"

"Look, do you want to eat or not? Cause I can go—"

"I uh—" the truth was she really needed to eat. "Okay."

She followed this guy around the farmers market and studied him— he had untamed brown hair and grungy clothes like her. He knew. He knew because he was living like her, alone. At that thought she snapped out of it just in time to watch him swipe fruit from a stand and quickly shove it in her bag.

"What are you doing?!" She shrieked to him.

"Quiet— Unless you wanna get caught. Just follow me. Nothing will happen, promise." And he flashed her a smile— maybe it was supposed to comfort her. Maybe she let it.

He swiped a few more things and soon enough they had lunch for two. "Where do you learn how to do that?!" She asked him in a loud whisper as they sat at her run down building spot.

"You have to adapt to survive. Neal by the way." He held his hand out to her. "Neal Cassidy." And then took a bite of an apple.

"Emma Swan." She looked at him with big eyes and hope while shaking his hand. Maybe she would survive. Maybe he would help her.

Or not.

She shook her head from the thought and realized Graham was now talking to her. "I know, but we don't know who these people are. We can't just barge in there without permission or a warrant. And I doubt they will let us in. Let's just wait it out. Besides—" he looked back to her with a smirk "it's not like you're leaving town anytime soon."

"What's that supposed to mean?! You can't keep me here for your case. I don't work for you." Emma snapped to him.

He laughed and shook his head, "I saw you hanging out with Jones over the weekend. You two looked quite comfortable."

"That's none of your business."

"Miss Swan I will say this in the nicest way possible— you are in a small town where everyone knows everyone. People see and speculate and talk. And right now, you are the main source of conversation." Graham glanced at her and she looked pissed.

Emma huffed and crossed her arms, "This is why I live in the city."

He gave her a knowing look. Really?

"God, does everyone know my damn life story already?! Fine lived. This is why I lived in the city. Can we just finish this damn stakeout and head back."

Graham laughed silently at her the whole way back. Emma was so easily riled.

It was nearing midnight when Emma left the station. She helped Graham file some paperwork on the case. This Will Scarlet gave her chills. Yeah they were currently going after a man for petty theft but his previous encounters with the police all felt too familiar. She just couldn't figure out why. They were typical for a man like him and he served his time for everyone… but something was still off. She didn't share those feelings with Graham though. This was something she needed to figure out on her own. But for now she could use a drink and maybe a little chat with a certain bartender down the road.

When she got to The Rabbit Hole it was pretty empty, Monday wasn't really screaming lets go out and party. But when she walked up to the bar it wasn't Killian who greeted her, it was a very short man who looked rather grumpy.

"What do you want?"

"oh, uh—I'll just wait for—"

"Look sister, do you want a drink or not. I'm busy."

Emma placed her hands on the bar top and glared at him. "Cool it with the attitude. Where's Killian?"

The man rolled his eyes, "Pretty boy is upstairs. It's his night off."

"Right." Emma didn't bother saying anything else to the small man, she walked around the side of the bar and marched straight up the stairs coming to a small hallway with a door.

She was a little nervous. He didn't invite her over. She had just planned to sit with him at the bar while he worked, like always. She looked down at her watch—it's past midnight. It's late. What are you doing?

She knocked before she could stop herself.

Emma heard footsteps on the other side; she tugged at her shirt nervously while she waited. The door opened a moment later to reveal a barefoot Killian, clad in pajamas.

"Oh my god, you were sleeping?! I'm so sorry. I should have called or something—" Emma rambled off quickly.

He chuckled at her, his hair disheveled like always and his eyes tired. "It's alright Swan, is everything okay?" He looked worried. It's late and she's at his door. Of course he's worried, why probably looked crazy for coming at this hour. She hadn't seen him since she left the docks after sailing.

He tied the rope off and helped her step off the boat. It was dark out, and after spending an entire day at sea her legs were a little unsteady— or maybe it was because of the man still holding her.

"Thank you Killian, today was…" Emma was at loss for words. His eyes were shining a light blue under the moonlight. Today was a fairytale. She had never felt so in the moment and carefree and wanted.

"Perfect." He gazed into her eyes with tenderness and something else that was unfamiliar— something she didn't understand, yet. She nodded her head none the less.

They held eachother in a long embrace, neither wanting to face the reality that they barely knew each other and they were both feeling so much in these small moments together.

"Can I walk you home?" He asked her sweetly with a quiet voice.

Emma shook her head, "I'll be okay. Granny's is just around the corner." He looked a little sad but didn't push it.

She lifted on the tip of her toes and placed her lips on his, silently thanking him again. Waving a small goodbye, Emma left him standing on the docks alone with nothing but the sound of the tide pushing forward and his thoughts loud in his head.

"Emma, lass are you alright?" He used her first name.

"Yeah I was just coming to the bar and you weren't there. Some guy with an attitude pointed me in this direction—"She paused and then stepped back "I can go!"

"No!" He said too quickly. "I mean, come in. Uh, I can make tea or coffee if you'd like? We can uh…talk?"

She sighed in relief; he wanted her to stay just as much as she wanted to be here. "Tea would be great." She stepped forward and passed the threshold and into the apartment. It was bigger than hers. Big windows welcomed her from the front room, displaying the water and his boat from a small distance.

"Make yourself at home." He offered with a stretch of his arms towards the couch. He had dark furniture and few framed photos on shelves. He was tidy and a minimalist.

Killian headed over to the kitchen and set a kettle on the stove before returning to Emma. He sat next to her and placed his palm to her cheek. "I don't believe I gave you a proper hello." He kissed he softly before pulling away with a lopsided grin. "Miss me?"

She laughed and rolled her eyes, but she gave him an honest nod.

"So you met Leroy then, downstairs at the bar? Dwarf sized male, perfectly rude." He stated with a small scowl, a crease formed between his brows.

"I don't think calling him a dwarf is helping that friendship. He's just a bit grumpy."

"He's a bloody wanker." Emma laughed at that, she loved when his accent and terms foreign to her slipped from his lips.

"So Swan care to tell me what has you sticking around Storybrooke? And whatever it is can I expect it to last long? I would hate to see you leave so soon." Killian didn't beat around the bush.

"The sheriff asked for my help on a case. Somethings a little off about it. So I'm not exactly sure how long it will take— to be honest I'm not exactly sure what I really am getting myself into. It's a bit more work than I usually do. My job usually consists of just throwing a guy in jail, but this is different." Emma stared off trying to figure out Will Scarlet and his story.

"I see— well I do hope you proceed with caution then. I'd hate for it to end poorly." Killian stood to retrieve the kettle that was steaming from the kitchen, returning a moment later with tea for two.

"So what is it about this case then that is throwing you off?" He continued while shifting in his seat to her.

She thought about how to approach this, still trying to figure it out herself. "I read something in his file and it's just been sticking in my head. I'm starting to draw a connection between him and just someone from my past and it doesn't make sense. I just— can we just talk about something else? It's been a long day and I am still trying to process everything. Actually, I would love to know how the entire town knows I am currently homeless." She gave him an irritated look. "You've been talking about me Killian."

He scratched behind his ear, a nervous tick he's acquired. "Aye, love well you see— I just— can you blame me?" He looked at her with soft eyes and rosy cheeks. "Never in my life have I met a lass like you, and all I want to do is tell everyone how amazing you are. Although I only spoke with Dave, he wasn't supposed to bloody tell anyone else. I was confiding in him all my thoughts since your arrival." He interlaced his own hands to stop his fidgeting.

"Killian you know I enjoyed spending time with you over the weekend, right? I just don't know how long I'll be here for and what my future holds. I do know that right now I am here with you and for as long as you want me here. I just, I move slower than most." She replaced one of his hands with hers and gave his a light squeeze in reassurance. "Just stop telling the town about me, it can affect my job." She added seriously.

"Apologies, love. My goal is far from putting you in harm's way."

She smiled to him and nodded, the silence that took over wasn't uncomfortable but she couldn't handle it yet. She stood and walked over to his large bookcase to scan his selection. "You really like to read." She stated as her hand hovered over the books.

"It helps when you're— uh, lonely. I guess." She gave him a small smile over her shoulder. She understood.

"The Princess Bride?" She giggled, "I love that one! I'm just surprised you have it." She picked it out and held it at him.

"It's not mine. I guess Milah left it behind, I must have brought it with my move here." He narrowed his eyes to the book, standing to grab it."

"Do you want to tell me about her?" Emma asked in a whisper.

Killian looked up at her in surprise, he briefly mentioned Milah over the weekend, but wasn't ready to talk then. It would have ruined that moment. He wasn't sure what he should say, what he would say.

He opened and closed his mouth several times before tangling a hand in his hair. "She was a bloody witch."

Emma raised her brows at him, "What?"

He sighed, "She just…broke me." Killian whispered and looked down at the book in his hand. Milah was everything to him and then nothing. How does he tell the woman he is now seeing about the woman he once loved, maybe still loved? Definitely still loved. He cursed himself silently.

"Emma you must know that I have grown rather fond of you—" He paced around her, the hardwood floors creaking beneath him. "Milah was married when we met, actually she was married the entire duration of our relationship." He spat out. "Uh, I found out after I had fallen for her. She's a bit older than me, even has a small boy. I didn't know about the boy until the end. I thought she would leave her husband for me. That probably sounds awful. God I am horrible. And then after time she did leave, she left both of us."

"I wanted a family, a life with her. And she didn't want any of it with me. When I found out that she left a boy behind I—" He gasped, he realized tears were about to spill from his eyes. He never spoke of his time with Milah or what happened. David knew, but that was it.

"Killian, it's okay. You— you didn't know. How could you?" Emma rushed to hold his hands but he back up.

It was too much, he still loves her. Why else would his heart be hurting so much?

"You should go." He threw the book on the coffee table.

"What?"

"I can't do this right now, Emma. I'm wasn't…I'm not ready." Her eyes went a little wide at the confession. She didn't say anything else; what was there to say? He wasn't ready. And maybe she wasn't either.

She turned on her heel and walked out the door. Just like that.

He stared at where she stood, anger building within him. "Idiot."

Killian walked to his kitchen and pulled out a bottle of rum from a cabinet, he slumped to the kitchen floor and drank.

Each sip reminded him more and more of the love he'd lost and continuously fails to get over.