Title: Accidentally in Love

Author: Steph
Rating: PG

Pairing: Killian/Emma

Characters: Killian, Emma, Belle, David, Mary Margaret, Robin.
Category: Romance/Humor/Drama
Disclaimer: I do this out of a love for this couple. No infringement is intended.

Spoilers: Nope!

Summary: Emma Swan needs to be married by 30 in order to receive the money from her trust fund and save her failing business. Killian Jones is the thief who just tried to rob her store. The two strike a deal: Killian will pretend to marry Emma and she won't send him to jail.

Note: Thanks for your responses to the last part and for reading. Hope you enjoy this part! -Steph

…Accidentally in Love: Part 3/12...

~Try something new, darling. It's called trust.~

Emma walked into the bookstore and was almost immediately attacked by Belle.

"How did it go? Tell me everything."

"Good morning to you, too," she said, handing her a cup of coffee and then sipping her own.

"Good morning. Now tell me everything."

They sat down at a table.

"Well, things didn't go quite as planned. Turns out, Killian is a vegetarian, which he failed to mention when I made fake Killian's favorite food lamb. So my mother had the kitchen staff prepare lamb."

"Oh no."

"He refused to eat it, so we had to pretend he was sick with a bug."

"What about the engagement announcement? Did your parents believe it?"

"Yes, but they were concerned it was all happening too quickly."

"Did you alleviate their concerns?"

Emma shook her head. "No, actually, Killian did."

"He did? How?"

Emma lowered her gaze, as a blush crept into her cheeks. "He gave this whole speech about how he had been waiting for me all of his life and how amazing I am."

Belle eyed her best friend and then shook her head. "Oh my God."

"What?" Emma asked.

"He's getting to you."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. He was just acting. I didn't take anything he said seriously."

"I've seen the way you look at him. And the way he looks at you."

"Maybe you should get your eyes checked then," Emma said, abruptly standing and walking to the counter. "I need to call my mother. We have to get started on the wedding preparations right away."

Emma dialed her parents' number and her mother answered on the second ring. Emma could immediately tell something was wrong by the sound of her voice.

"Mom? Are you okay?"

"We've just had a bit of excitement here today, that's all. Greta discovered that the Faberge egg we bought at auction last year is missing."

"The one in the foyer?"

"Yes, that one. It's worth a fortune and she swears it was there yesterday afternoon when she was dusting."

Emma bit at her bottom lip nervously. "Mom, I have to go."

"You're coming over later, right? We need to discuss the wedding."

"Yes, I'll be over soon."

"Make sure you bring, Killian. It's his wedding, too."

Emma hung up without replying or saying goodbye.

"What's wrong?" Belle asked, jumping up from her seat.

"I'll be back soon," Emma said, heading to the door.

"Emma, what happened?" Belle called after her, as Emma exited the store.

Emma got into her car and did a quick Google search on her phone. Within seconds, she had the information she wanted.

Ten minutes later, she pulled up in front of an old apartment building in the worst part of Storybrooke. The building didn't have any security so she was able to walk right in, find his name on the directory, and walk up to his apartment on the third floor.

The building was in terrible disrepair. The paint was peeling off the walls on the dimly lit, dingy hallway. A multitude of buckets were strategically placed to catch various leaks. She didn't know why she was surprised he lived in a place like this, but she was. For a moment, she actually felt sorry for him. Emma quickly found apartment 4 and knocked.

A moment later, the door swung open. Killian's eyebrows raised in surprise at the sight of her.

"Emma? What are you doing here?"

She pushed past him into his drab apartment. It was essentially one room with a tiny bed, a couch against the lone window, and a small kitchen in the corner. Something that barely qualified as a bathroom was just off the kitchen.

"Where is it?" she asked, her eyes darting around the room.

"Where is what?" he said, clearly confused.

Emma placed her hands on her hips. "Don't play dumb, Killian. It doesn't suit you."

"I haven't a bloody clue what you're talking about."

"The egg!" she shouted.

Confusion remained etched into his features. "What egg?"

Her jaw tightened. "The Faberge egg you stole from my parents last night."

Emma saw the hurt flash across his face, but tried to ignore it. "You think I stole from your parents?"

Emma shrugged. "Why wouldn't I? The first time we met you stole from me. That's how this whole thing started, in case you've forgotten."

Killian dropped his voice. "I didn't know you then, Emma."

"And that makes it okay?"

"Of course not," he replied sharply. "Look, I didn't steal from your parents."

Emma took a step closer to him and looked him right in the eyes. "Why should I believe you?"

Killian made a move toward her, coming so close he could smell her perfume. He held her gaze, his voice emerging just above a whisper. "If we have a prayer of this working, then you're going to have to start trusting me, Emma."

"Trust is earned," she replied weakly, his closeness distracting her.

"And how exactly does a man earn your trust, love?"

She shrugged. "I'll let you know when it happens."

It had happened once and she would make damn sure it never happened again.

She paused and then added. "If I find out you stole that egg, then I'll make sure you go to prison this time. No deals."

They stared at each other for a long moment, then Emma swallowed hard and took a step back. "Come on, let's go."

"Go where?"

"To my parents. We have to plan the wedding."

"I don't see why that must involve me. Do as you please."

Emma sighed heavily. "My mother requested your presence."

Killian smiled. "I think she's rather fond of me."

Emma rolled her eyes, as they headed out.

Fifteen minutes later, Mary Margaret greeted them at the door. "What a morning!"

"Did you report the theft to the police?"

She waved her hand. "I was just about to when Fiona - she's new to the housekeeping staff - said she had simply moved the egg to the library because she was afraid it would get broken in the foyer."

Emma felt Killian staring at her, but refused to look at him.

"That's great news."

"It is. I was worried we had a thief in our midst."

Killian lowered his gaze to the floor.

"Follow me into the sitting room. I've got tea and cookies for you," she said.

Emma and Killian sat on the loveseat and Mary Margaret sat in an armchair across from them, as one of the staff served them tea.

Mary Margaret began. "You know, it occurred to me after you left last night that you never told us how you got engaged. Please, tell me everything."

Emma discreetly sighed. "We took a ride in a horse drawn carriage last Friday night. Killian presented me with a dozen red roses and asked me to be his wife."

Mary Margaret smiled widely. "Oh that's so romantic! You got a good one, Emma!"

Emma glanced at Killian, but he refused to meet her eyes.

She slowly nodded. "I sure did."

Mary Margaret took a deep breath. "Well, onto wedding preparations. I hardly know where to start. There's so much to do."

"Remember, Mom, we want to keep this small and low-key," she said, reaching for a cookie.

"Of course, dear. Your father and I have already whittled the list down to 200 guests."

Emma nearly choked on her cookie. "200?"

"Plus, Killian's family and friends, of course."

Emma shook her head. "We aren't having 200 people, Mom."

"Emma, your father and I have many business associates. It would be in poor taste not to invite them to our daughter's wedding."

Emma shrugged. "Too bad. 50 tops."

"50?" she said, her eyes nearly falling out of her head.

"Yes, 50."

"Fine," she said in disappointment. "Plus, Killian's family and friends."

Killian shook his head. "I don't have any close friends in the states and my parents are my only family. I'm afraid they won't be able to make it from London on such short notice. As you know, their jobs keep them very busy."

Mary Margaret waved her hand. "Well, it's settled then. You'll have to postpone the wedding. You can't get married without your parents here."

Emma's eyes widened. "Uh, you know, they aren't that close."

"Emma!" Mary Margaret scolded. "How would you feel if your father and I weren't at your wedding?"

"Sounds pretty good right about now," she muttered.

"I heard that, young lady."

Killian placed his hand over Emma's and met Mary Margaret's eyes. "Don't worry, Mrs. Nolan. I'll speak to my parents again. I'll make certain they are here. No need to postpone."

Mary Margaret smiled. "Thank you, Killian." She paused and then pulled out a pad and pen. "Now, let's go through my list."

Emma simply stared at him. Where were they supposed to get fake parents now?

…

~I can't take a chance that I'm wrong about you.~

Five excruciating hours later, Emma and Killian were finally on their way home. They had decided the wedding would be held in her parents' backyard and the staff would prepare the food. She gave her mother full control over the rest of the details.

They had driven in an uncomfortable silence for some time until Killian finally broke it.

"You're mother is extremely…thorough."

"She's anal."

"I was trying to be polite," he replied.

They fell into another awkward silence until Emma spoke.

"What were you thinking promising my mother that your parents would be at the wedding?" she asked, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were turning white.

"Would you rather she insisted we postpone it? You have less than a month to get married, Emma, or you lose your trust fund."

"I am quite aware of that, Killian, thank you very much. Where do you plan on finding fake parents?"

He shrugged. "Not my job. This is your scheme, love. Figure it out."

Emma ground her teeth together. "What about your thief friends? You must know a man and a woman in their late 50's to early 60's who could pull this off."

Killian's brow wrinkled at her. "Why do you assume I have friends who are thieves?"

Emma chuckled. "True, I shouldn't assume you have any friends at all. I doubt anyone could stomach you long enough."

"I could say the same for you, love."

She turned to look at him. "Me? People like me just fine."

"You are almost tolerable when you're not on your high horse." He paused and then added, "Speaking of high horse, I forgive you."

Emma pulled over to side of the road and slammed on the brakes. She turned to him. "Excuse me?"

"I forgive you for accusing me of stealing and I accept your apology."

"Funny, because I don't remember asking for your forgiveness or apologizing."

"I sensed it. I assumed you were just too stubborn to admit you were wrong. That's a rather big character flaw, actually. You might want to work on that."

"I just as easily could have been right," she said, her hand moving to put the car back into drive.

"Hey," Killian said, his voice softening. She met his eyes as his hand encircled her wrist, stopping her movement. "I'm not Neal. I know he hurt you and he made you distrustful of men, but I'm not him."

She shook her head. "No, you're not, but you are just another man who is using me to get what he wants."

"This is a mutually beneficial arrangement. You may not believe it, Emma, but you can trust me."

Emma shook his hand off of her and put the car into drive. "I made that mistake once long ago. I won't make it again."

"Emma," he whispered.

"Just hold up your end of the deal and we won't have a problem. I don't have to trust you to make this work. I just have to pretend to." She paused and then added with a sideways glance at him. "And find some people to be your parents. I'm making it your job."

Killian sighed in frustration and then turned his gaze to the window.

…

~Actually, I quite fancy you from time to time, when you're not yelling at me.~

One week later, Killian showed up at Emma's bookstore. He sauntered in, a grin on his face, accompanied by an older man and woman.

Emma looked up from the counter she had been cleaning.

"Oh, hi. I was actually just about to call you," she greeted him. "Who are they?"

Killian gestured with his hand. "These are my parents."

Emma's eye widened as she looked at the African-American man and woman. They smiled politely, but didn't say anything.

Emma came from around the counter, grabbed him by the elbow, and dragged him to a corner.

She whispered harshly at him. "They can't play your parents, Killian."

"Why not?"

"Look at them!" she said, gesturing wildly with her hands.

"Emma, London doesn't only consist of Caucasian people, you know," he replied.

"I am aware of that," she began through clenched teeth. "But you happen to be a Caucasian person."

"So we'll tell your parents I'm adopted," he said with a shrug.

Emma slapped her hand against her forehead. "Great idea, except you probably would have mentioned that when they asked about your family!"

He tilted his head to the side, trying to hide his smile. He did enjoy irritating her.

"We can tell them I just found out I'm adopted."

Emma stared at him slack-jawed. "I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that. We'll just have to tell them you neglected to mention it. I don't understand why you couldn't find two thieves who are actually the same race as you."

Killian groaned. "It's not as if we have some club that meets on Wednesdays for donuts and coffee. I work alone and I keep to myself."

"Well, then where did you find them?"

"They're my neighbors. Gus and Martha Wilkins. Nice folks."

"And they're thieves?"

"Pickpockets."

Emma squeezed her eyes closed. "Killian, pickpockets don't have to lie in order to steal. I wanted people adept at lying."

"I believe they can pull it off."

"Fine, but can they pull off an English accent?" she asked.

"I feel confident they can."

"We'll see."

Emma walked over to them and extended her hand. "Emma Swan. Nice to meet you."

They shook her hand, as the man spoke. "I'm Gus and this is my wife, Martha."

"For the purposes of our situation, your names will be Simon and Clara Jones. Can I hear you guys speak with an English accent please?"

They nodded and proceeded to do the worst English accent Emma had ever heard. It didn't even qualify as an English accent.

Martha went first. "Pleased to meet you."

Gus followed. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Emma threw Killian an icy glare, as he suddenly found his shoes very interesting. She walked over to him and dragged him back to the corner.

"Not dreadful," he said. "Just needs a little work."

"A little work? They sound like a cross between Crocodile Dundee and Huckleberry Finn."

"You're exaggerating. I'll work with them on it."

Emma clenched her fists. "We don't have time to work on it, Killian. My mother kept asking me if your parents were going to come in time for the wedding. I wanted to get her off my back, so I finally told her they were already here. Then she invited us all over for dinner tonight. She wants to meet them prior to the wedding and discuss wedding plans."

"Tonight?"

"Yes, as in three hours."

"It's impossible, Emma. We have to prep them too."

Emma handed him a sheet of paper. "No, you have to prep them. I have to work. And you better find them some better clothes too."

Killian held out his hand expectantly. Emma rolled her eyes and handed him $50.

"Bloody hell, Emma. How do you expect me to clothe two people so they look like distinguished Londoners who work for the Queen on $50? I have to buy him a suit and her a dress. They both need shoes."

"Goodwill is your best friend. Spend it wisely," she said, patting his shoulder. "See you in a few hours."

Killian took a deep breath and then exited the store with his faux parents. He continued down the sidewalk, as Gus let out a snort.

"No love lost between you two, huh?" he said.

Killian remained silent.

Martha shook her head. "You can be so dense sometimes, Gus. They're like two kids on a playground pulling each other's hair because they like each other. Isn't that right, Killian?"

He sighed heavily. "You two don't need to concern yourself with anything besides playing your parts."

…..

End of Part 3

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you thought! ~Steph