A warm, perfect yellow in the fading sunlight, the car was singing to Emma in a faint growl and something inside of her was pulling towards it, remembering the way it felt to fly down the road together. But despite the years of memories piling up behind her eyes, she stayed frozen in place on the porch because as much as she thought the car would overshadow the weeks she had spend here, she still felt the tug of the house at her back and the garage down the hill and everything that came with them both.

"Hey." Killian said softly from a few steps ahead of her, and when she looked over at him with a helpless expression he just held out his hand and tipped his head towards the car. "I haven't test driven it yet, if you think the peas can wait."

"Screw the peas." She reached out and laced her fingers with his, let him lead her to the driver's side of the car, but held on one moment longer than she should have when he made to walk around to the passenger seat. "Hey," She said. "Thank you."

"Thank me if it actually works."

Her first thought was how ridiculous that was – if he thought that she thought he would park the car here, keys in the ignition, a temptation and a promise and her heart in a metal shell, then he underestimated how well she knew him, now.

"Only one way to find out." She said instead, and caught the edge of his smile as he swung into the car in perfect time with her.

Part of her had been scared, before she sank into the seat, that after so long and so many changes that this car wouldn't be hers anymore – wouldn't be her anymore – but the moment the seat hugged her body with its familiar dips and curves, the moment she smoothed her hands over the shape of the steering wheel, the moment she eased on the clutch and shifted into gear…for the first time in a month and four days she felt the final piece of herself fall into place.

"Go easy on it the first time, yeah?" Killian said, catching her eye with his smile.

"Afraid your work won't hold up?"

"Afraid I won't." His grin turned slightly crooked and he pointed down the driveway with a flat palm. "But let's give it a try."

—-

She took it slow for the first fifteen minutes, driving up the main street and nearly to the town line, ringing around a small park and following the coast back towards the house while he asked her endless questions – how did it handle, how did it feel, how did it shift, how did it sound, was it the same as before, was it better? She answered every single one with a smile on her face because just like the repairs had been more, these questions were too and she knew it was because he somehow understood that whatever question he asked about this car she would have the answer to.

It should have terrified her, how well he knew her.

They were nearing the road that cut back up to the house, and she eased her foot on the clutch and off the gas to let the car slow on its own time. It barely had a chance to lose any of its momentum, though, before Killian's hand wrapped around hers on the gearshift and guided it into third. It was effortless, the shift, and even without the car feeding the answer to him through the pedals and the steering wheel and the pure harmony of driving, he found the gear immediately as if he had been driving this car longer than she had.

Her expression spoke for her confusion, and he granted her another winning smile, saying simply, "It's not a real test until you do it at speed."

He didn't need to ask her twice.

She slid the car into third and let it climb, pressed the gas pedal until she felt it butt up against the floor, and kept it there until the car was shuddering in the low gear. She punched the clutch and it was a fraction of a breath of a second and shifting gears was pure instinct, in this car, but he beat her to it – his hand, still on top of hers, guiding the gear shift, and as she let the clutch out the engine slid into a seamless fourth.

"Sorry, love." He said, an incredulous laugh chasing the words because driving a car was not a team sport. "Instinct."

"Don't apologize." She flicked her gaze over to catch his for a moment, and offered him a small smile. "You're the whole reason this car's working and besides that, you didn't stall the car so there's no problem."

"Surprised I didn't."

"I'm not." With her eyes back on the road, Emma couldn't see Killian's expression, but she could feel his gaze burning into the side of her head and the intensity of it was thick in the space between them. He made a noise low in his throat, the beginning of words she was terrified of him saying, but the silence continued to stretch out in the moments that followed and she was simultaneously relieved and disappointed that it did.

Finally, he said, "Take a left up here and how about you show me what this car can do?"

She took the turn as instructed but let the car drift to a stop instead even though the open stretch of pavement in front of her looked like the freedom she had been chasing for too long. She could hear in her mind the sound he had made, the promise of words that he never spoke aloud, and even though she didn't know what it was he would have said had he given himself the chance, she had a good idea – and they were words she could not afford to let herself think about because they would anchor her here and for both of their sakes, she needed to go.

Still, there was something inside of her that was looking forward to dinner at home, to teasing him about his choice of TV show or beating him at game after game of go fish on the porch, to falling asleep with him next to her and waking up in the same sliver of space. There was something about the pull of that life that even the open road couldn't erase completely. She didn't know what this was, but she wanted him to know she felt it, too.

She opened the door of the idling car and stepped out onto the road, waiting next to the rumbling Bug until he came out a moment later and shot her a questioning look over the roof of the car. She tipped her head towards the driver's seat, towards the keys still in the ignition, and said finally, "How about you show me?"

—-

They drove for another half hour and when Killian finally pulled back up his own driveway, Emma wished they had stayed out all night. He was exactly the kind of driver she was – reckless but faultlessly competent – and the smile that had been playing on his lips the whole time he had driven her car up and down empty roads exactly mirrored how she felt every time she got behind the wheel. It wasn't the raw power and easy speed of the GTO, and she knew that a top speed of 120 wasn't anything extraordinary, but there was something about this car that made it perfect with all its quirks and flaws included.

The smile that stayed on his face even after he turned the car off, as they sat there listening to the car tick faintly as it cooled down, told her that some of that magic had worked its way into his veins already.

"This is…quite the vehicle you've got here, Swan." He said after a moment.

"It is, isn't it." She patted the dash fondly and closed her eyes for a long moment, the familiar scent of gasoline and vinyl and years wrapping around her, and let that feeling of home find her as it always did in this car. When she opened her eyes she found him just watching her, a slightly wistful look on his face. She waited a moment to see if he would follow that look with anything more specific, but when he didn't she opened the door and swung out of the car, saying, "I should probably get back to the peas."

"How long do you think dinner will be?" He asked, stepping out of the car himself and coming to join her in front of the bumper. He leaned a hand against the hood as he listened, the gesture automatic and so familiar that something shifted inside of her chest. It took her a moment longer than it should have to answer.

"Half an hour?"

"I've got a few things I can finish on that Mustang, then, unless you need my help."

"I think I can handle some unruly peas and a frozen lasagna myself, thanks." She said with a wry smile. "But Killian?"

He opened his mouth to answer but it had never been her intention to give him a chance, leaning in and capturing his mouth with hers. She surprised him for a fraction of a second but then he was right there with her. He pulled her closer and spun her so she was leaning up against the hood of the car where his hand had been only a moment before, and the warm metal was an instant reminder of everything he had done to give her back the only thing that was truly hers.

She deepened the kiss, and she knew he knew why.

His hold tightened and got impossibly gentler at the same time, a hand sliding up to knot in her hair but the one still anchored on her waist soft and relaxed, and she let herself lean into him that much more to hold him closer in return. They held each other like precious things, and the moment was over far too soon.

Killian pulled away first, resting his forehead gently against Emma's, and his eyes were soft and blue and full in the narrow space between them.

"See you at dinner." He said softly, pressing her keys into her hand before turning towards the garage. Something uncomfortable sprang to life inside her and she spun towards the house, picking her way up the overgrown drive to the steps because she suddenly found that she couldn't watch him walk away.

—-

Dinner was quiet and uneventful, eaten on the small table on the porch because the weather was unusually mild, and Killian went back down to the shop afterwards to finish whatever it was on the Mustang that couldn't wait until the morning. Emma took her time with the dishes, missing him beside her drying them like he usually did, and she only managed to spend about ten minutes afterwards trying to fill her time alone in the house before heading down towards the beacon of the garage windows in the dark.

She found Killian at his desk, and he looked up from his computer when she walked in.

"Finished already?" She asked, coming to lean against his side of the desk.

"I've got to order a part for it, so I won't be able to finish tonight. I was just about to come back up."

"That's good." They lapsed into silence as he finished the order, the sound of his fingers against the keyboard and the radio turned on low filling the room. She just watched him, chewing the inside of her hip, then added, "While you've got that on, would you mind pulling up my service record?"

"Sure." His gaze flashed to hers, the unconscious smile he had been wearing still on his face. "Why?"

"I…kind of haven't been keeping track and I'm not sure…" Her voice dropped low and she didn't want to say it, really, but: "How much I still owe you."

His smile was gone now.

"I know it's still a fair bit but I just want to get an idea of the number so–"

"So you can settle up and get on your way." He said.

"Yeah." Her voice was a whisper now and how could that single word hurt so much when she knew it was what needed to happen?

"Emma…" Killian scrubbed a hand over his face and rose to stand in front of her. The look on his face was one she had never seen, something between hurt and anger and longing and fear, and she couldn't have looked away from him even if she had wanted to. "I know I said I would only say this once, and I apologize for not being a man of my word, but…" His hand drifted up to scratch behind his ear now, and that gesture was so familiar… "You've saved his place – not just because of Gold's deal falling through, and not just because of all the work you've done here, but because–"

"Don't." She breathed, because she could see the words in his eyes.

"But because I was slowly letting this place fall out from under me," He said anyways. "And you saved it. Me. And I can't…" He bit his lip and she could tell that he could speak all night and still not say all he wanted, and the sheer enormity of that terrified her. "Please stay, Emma."

"Killian…" For the first time in weeks she felt the yawning chasm inside her open up, and it was twice as hollow and empty as it had been before she had forgotten it was there.

"Don't." He whispered in a broken voice.

"I can't, Killian." She said, pressing on as he had, and she was hurting both of them with her words but she needed him to understand. "This has been one of the best months of my life and I will always be grateful for that, but I have to go."

"There will be a place for you here as long as you want it, Emma. You don't have to go."

"It's not because I think you don't want me here," She said, and it struck her hard to realize that for the first time in her life those words were true. "But it's been a month and neither of us knows what two months will be like, or three, or four, or a year…but everything falls apart eventually and I can't wait for that to happen." She pressed a hand against his forearm and drew his gaze, which had drifted to the floor, back up to hers so she could try to tell him with her eyes and her face and hereverything that this was for the best.

"What if this is the one time it doesn't?" He asked, his voice full of intensity now, and there was a fire burning behind his eyes as they held hers. "Why can't you just trust this – me – and see if it pays off?"

"It's not that I don't trust you, Killian. But I can't watch this happen again. Not with you."

"It doesn't have to." He took two steps back as his voice rose, knotting his hands together so hard his knuckles turned white. "You're the only one making this an inevitability."

"Because it is one." She said, fighting to keep her voice level. "It always has been and I'm not stupid enough to think that this time will be any different."

"Because you won't give me a chance."

"I just can't, Killian." She dropped her gaze because she knew she was hurting him, even if it was for the best. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Emma." He sighed. She looked back up and though the fire was still burning behind his eyes and his hands were still clenched tight, he just looked tired. "We had our deal and I'll uphold it, but I had to say something in case…"

"I'm sorry, Killian." She whispered again. "I…"

"Don't. Please." He flashed her a sham of a smile and headed for the door, though she wasn't sure where he was going to go.

"I've still got to work off the rest." She said in a small voice. "We've still got time."

"Just leave now, Emma." He said, pausing in the door of the office and swivelling slightly to look back at her. "If this is what'll make you happy, just go. It's not about the money. It hasn't been about the money in a long time." He let out a soft laugh, a single syllable and so bitter that it broke what was left of her. "I thought you knew that."

He shrugged one shoulder as he disappeared into the garage, and his footsteps were soft as they echoed in the space, but his true feelings rang out in the hard slam of the garage door as he left.

—-

She was lying in the back seat of her car, staring up at the fabric of the ceiling and trying to remember that his home was not her home, especially not now, when he came back. She heard his footsteps crunch on the gravel drive and she froze, hoping he would go up to the house or down to the garage and miss the shape of her in the back of the car.

He didn't, of course.

He knocked on the driver's side window and his face, when she sat up to look at him, was awful. He looked tired and broken and like he had been fighting himself every single moment since he had left the garage. If she hadn't already committed to leaving, this would have convinced her because she already done this much to him and she would only ruin things more if she let this go on any longer.

She climbed out of the car, wrapping her arms around herself as she faced him even though the night was still mild, and only as she opened her mouth did she realize she didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry." He said instead, surprising her. He pulled a hand through his hair and his mouth twitched as though to offer her the gentle smile she had gotten so used to.

"For what? I'm the one who–"

"You're the one who was honest up front about her plans, and I'm the one who refused to accept it. It was bad form on my part, and I'm sorry."

"And I'm sorry too." She said, reaching out to brush her fingertips against the back of his hand. His gaze shot up to hers and what she saw in it she knew was mirrored in her own. "I'm sorry it has to be like this, but Killian…it's best for both of us if it is."

"I know you think it is." He laced his hand with hers and looked down at them. "You know when you're leaving?"

"I'm not going to go until I pay off what I owe, Killian. I'm not ripping you off."

"You've more than paid it back, Emma."

"I've barely worked…"

"I'm not just counting the work." He said, voice low, and he looked at her with a plea in his eyes that she not ask him to elaborate. "You're clear, Emma. You can go whenever you want."

"In the morning then, I guess." She whispered, dropping her gaze, and she heard his sharp intake of breath. "It'll be easier, I think, if I do."

"Whatever you want. Just…" He gestured towards the house with their joined hands and she looked back up at him – at the gentle, pained smile he had somehow put on – as he breathed, "Can we pretend for one last night that nothing's changed?"

"Okay." She bobbed a nod and pulled a smile from somewhere for him, and his brightened a fraction – not nearly the brilliant thing she had seen so many times, but closer.

He led her or she led him, but together they ended up in his room. His bed was a double and not quite comfortable for two people, but as they lay down together it was suddenly too large. She let her hand drift into the space between them and his was there a moment later, grabbing hers and pulling her close. She fit perfectly against him, pressed against his side with his arm around her, and as he let her hand go to wrap his other around her to draw her impossibly closer, she draped her arm over his chest to knot her hand in the fabric of his shirt, asking-without-asking for him not to leave, tonight.

The irony was a bitter taste in her mouth, but it didn't stop her from wanting it.

There were a thousand things she wanted to say to him in the quiet space of the room that had come to mean so much in this house that meant so much, but she had said what needed to be said and anything else was just a cruel reminder. So she stayed silent and so did he, minutes piling on top of each other until she finally felt her eyelids start to drift shut.

She was just north of sleep when he whispered into her hair, "I miss you." His voice was jagged rocks and broken glass, and the sound of it made her chest collapse from the inside. "I miss you so much, Emma, and you're not even gone."

—-

They stood together by the open door of the car, and it was very hard for Emma to remember why she had to leave. She had woken up in Killian's arms, his breath warm and soft against the side of her head as he held her close, and she had forgotten for a moment that this wasn't just another day. The realization had come quickly, and when he had woken she was glad he hadn't seen the damp spots on his shirt that were evidence of how much she was destroying herself with her choice. They had a quiet breakfast – pancakes, like the very first one they had ever shared – and when she had started to clear the table he had stopped her.

"I'll do it later." He had said, and she had felt her eyes fill with tears at that, of all things.

"Will you?" She had asked, voice hoarse. "Because you haven't traditionally been the best housekeeper."

What she had really wanted to ask was Will you be okay when I go?but she had given up her right to ask him questions like that, so she had let him answer with a nod she could tell was a lie, and hoist her duffel onto his shoulder.

And now they were here, standing by the car, and there were no more reasons for her to stay.

"You should be good to go." Killian said, his arms braced on the open door and the roof of the car with Emma standing between them. "It's running fine and you've got a full tank of gas…I topped up the oil yesterday so you shouldn't have any problems, and I put a map in your glove box just in case."

"Thank you, Killian. For everything."

"It's my job." He shrugged, and she could tell it killed him to be so casual when this was anything but.

"You did more than your job." Her voice dropped to a whisper and she had to leave. "And I'm not going to forget that anytime soon."

"I would hope not." His voice dropped, too, and he leaned closer, pressing his forehead to hers one final time. "If I asked one last time…"

"My answer would still be the same." She breathed.

"Can't fault a man for trying." He let out a small chuckle, his breath dancing in the space between them, and she leaned in to brush a soft kiss against his lips before ducking down into the car. He stood there for a long moment just looking down at her, and she could barely look him in the eye. Then he stepped back and slammed the door, bracing his hands on his knees as he leaned down to peer in the window, and said simply, "Goodbye, Emma."

"Bye, Killian." She said in return, and there were so many words swirling in her mind but she couldn't manage anything more than this. "Thanks again."

He just nodded, pressing his lips together hard, and straightened. She started the car and didn't look at him – couldn'tlook at him – as she put it in gear and started slowly down the driveway, but she waved one last time out the window. The mirrors were still adjusted to his height from yesterday's drive, and she didn't adjust them because this way, when she looked in them all she could see was a large swath of blue, blue sky and not even a hint of the house or the shop or Killian standing right where she had left him, hand raised in return with any semblance of a smile gone from his face.

Her chest felt hollow and she could feel the ragged edges of the hole there flare white-hot as she thought of the look in his eyes when he said goodbye.

She punched the gas hard and kept her eyes firmly on the road, flicking on the radio and blasting Killian's country station until she was well past the town line and the garage wasn't even a suggestion on the horizon.