A/N: I'm sort of freaking out (in a good way) about how many of you are favoriting this, following it, reviewing it ... I am SO GLAD you guys like this, I really really can't say it enough. I'm so excited to get to the next parts of the fic, because I am dying to share the rest of this story with all of you. So here's the next part!

The Emperor. He is logical, prudent, and commanding. He is the father-figure. In this fic, he is David. (Yay for Daddy Charming and Daughter Emma stuff!) And this is where everything starts to change. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Four
The Emperor
"And the words are all escaping, and coming back all damaged … "

"You might think about a wardrobe change," Emma mused one morning as she and Killian sat in the kitchen, in what had become something of a ritual for them over the past week or so. They both seemed to wake up before everyone else, and it gave them an hour where they were the only two people that seemed to matter.

Emma would never admit it, but she was really starting to enjoy having this bastard around. Which was slightly disconcerting, but for the moment, she was pushing that aside.

He frowned at her over the rim of his coffee cup. "What's wrong with my clothes?" he asked her. That was another thing. She had gotten him completely hooked (no pun intended) on coffee. As long as it had lots of cream and sugar in it. Pansy.

She had to bite back a laugh. "You stick out like a sore thumb," she told him. "I mean, we're trying to keep you on a low profile, and yet, you're still dressing like … that." She gestured with her hand to his ensemble, which was about as cliche fantasy pirate (and hot, but she was choosing to ignore thatpart) as it got.

He shook his head. "I'm sure the fact that I've only got one hand will completely escape people's notice then?" he said, quirking a brow. "Darling, I think you're worrying about the wrong things. Incidentally, when are you going to give me back my hook?"

"No," Emma said, shaking her head. "You don't need it! Not here."

"But it's mine, innit?" he returned evenly, leaning in a bit and lowering his voice. "What exactly are you doing with it, hmm?"

She rolled her eyes. "Do you have to make everything sound so … " She trailed off, not even sure what the correct word to use was. He just had this way of making her mind go straight to places it didn'tneed to go with the most innocent of phrases.

"So … ?" he pressed, that annoying smirk back on his face.

"Annoying," she finished, making a face at him.

He chuckled. "That's not what you were going to say," he said, a lilt in his voice that Emma found just fascinating. He certainly knew how to use things to his advantage, didn't he?

"Well, too bad for you, you'll never know the truth," she said with a shrug.

"Oh, I bet I could get it out of you," he said, his expression still teasing, but his tone was different. It held weight to it, the weight that always made Emma feel a little skittish around him.

She drained the rest of her coffee then and stood up.

"Oh, is it already time for this part of the morning then?" Killian said, fixing her with an expression that was half-amused, half-exasperated.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She moved over to the sink and began scrubbing unnecessarily at her coffee cup.

"Right, of course not," he said, and this time there was bite in his words. Emma frowned down at the cup in her hands.

He was right behind her, he wasn't touching her, but she felt him all the same. He had a way of enveloping her, the scent of him that always reminded her of the ocean, the way her skin prickled at his nearness, as if her body was screaming out that he was it.

But she didn't want him to be it. Or, she did, but the idea of even having an "it" was too much for her to deal with right now.

She closed her eyes, refusing to turn around, knowing that if she did, she'd be face to face with him, close enough to feel his breath, and she might not be able to stop herself if she was …

"What do you want?" she asked, her hands still submerged in soapy water, part of her hoping he'd back away, the other part wishing he'd just spin her around and make the decision for her.

"You know," he said, his voice very quiet. "The very same thing you're afraid to admit that you want." His hand was on her upper arm now, and her heart was thudding rapidly. She prepared herself for what she knew was coming …

… but it never did.

"Morning."

David's voice made Emma jump, and she whirled around to see that Killian had backed off considerably, though his expression looked pained as he watched her. She didn't like the guilty feeling she felt in her gut, she hadn't done anything wrong, and she knew it. But she wasn't out to hurt anyone, either.

If Killian was even sincere. And she still wasn't 100% sure … it was one of the reasons that she was keeping her distance, even now. It was hard for her to accept that someone might actually be interested enough in her, in Emma, to be hurt if she wasn't interested back. Not that she wasn'tinterested back …

God, she had a headache.

"Morning," she finally said to David, who was looking between her and Killian with an unreadable expression on his face. "Did you sleep well?"

"Fine," he said with a nod, making his way over to the coffeepot. "You?"

"Uh-huh," she said, rinsing off her hands and then stepping away from the sink. "I gotta get ready for work." Her eyes flicked back to Killian before she made her way out of the kitchen. He was looking at her with a different kind of unreadable expression.

Once she was safely ensconced in the bathroom, she leaned back against the door, closing her eyes and taking her first deep breath since before David had interrupted … whatever it was he'd interrupted.

This was not what she had planned at all. She could feel him getting under her skin, worming his way ever closer to her … and it made her want to run. She wanted to run far, far away and not look back, but she couldn't dothat now. She wasn't 18 any more, running away wasn't how grown-ups dealt with their issues.

For once, she was actually glad to have the excuse of work to keep her mind off of everything else. Hell, maybe she'd even put in some overtime.

Overtime would be awesome.

Until she opened her desk drawer and saw Killian's hook sitting on top of some of the files. She made a face. She really should give it back to him. She had a flash of him, pulling her back to him after they'd climbed that damned beanstalk, insisting that she needed her hand tended to.

She bit her lip and slammed the desk drawer shut, trying to ignore the shiver that went through her at the memory. It wasn't okay to be this affected by someone. It had never ended well for her before …

"Is this a bad time?"

David's voice again. Frowning, Emma looked up to see him standing in the doorway.

"No, not at all," she said, wondering why he was here. Hoping it wasn't because of that morning. "What's up?"

"Was going to ask you the same thing," he said. She could tell he was nervous about being here, talking to her, so whatever it was, she was pretty sure it did have to do with the very thing she was trying to avoid thinking about.

Great.

"What do you mean?" she asked, absently flicking through some files.

"Emma … I don't want to … overstep, or … presume, but … " he sighed. "I'm worried about you."

"Why?" Emma asked, still not looking at him. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Are you?" he said. "This morning … "

Emma held up her hand then. "No," she said, finally raising her head to look at him. Her eyes flashed. "We are not talking about this."

"I think you need to talk to someone about it!" David said, and Emma was slightly taken aback by the vehemence in his voice. "I'm sorry," he said, rubbing his forehead lightly with his hand. Emma just watched him, her mind flipping over the fact in her mind that this was her father … and maybe for the first time ever, he was acting like it. Part of her sort of liked it.

The other part of her resented the hell out of him for making her think about Killian again.

"What is there to talk about?" she said tiredly. "There's nothing to talk about. He's a pain in the ass with absolutely no concept of personal space. That's what you walked in on this morning, nothing more."

Wow, that was pretty good. She almost believed that one herself.

"The way that he looks at you would suggest otherwise," David said, his voice quieter now.

Emma's heart flip-flopped a little. "Wh - what way?" she asked after a long moment, hating how shaky her voice came out.

David sighed heavily. "The way I assume I looked at Snow when I was falling in love with her."

Emma blinked, and then started laughing. She couldn't help it. It was absolutely ridiculous, what David was saying. There was just … no way. "If you want him out of the apartment, I'm sure you could come up with something better," she said when she'd calmed down.

"Emma, I'm serious," David said, his expression unchanged.

"You're saying," Emma said, trying hard not to crack up again, "that Hook — Captain Hook — is in love with me?" She shook her head, trying to ignore the slightly shrill, hysterical tone her voice had taken on then.

"I'm not saying that … I'm just saying what I see," David said. "And it's definitely not just your friendship he wants."

"I can take care of myself, David," Emma said. "Been doing all right so far, haven't I?"

"Emma, it's not a surprise that a man would be interested in you," David said. "You're your mother's daughter after all." He smiled a little. "You're strong, and you're smart, and you're beautiful … I'd have more questions if he wasn't interested."

"So then what is your problem?" Emma asked, on the verge of complete exasperation at this point.

"You look at him the same way."

Emma's head snapped up, looking for the slightest hint that David was fucking with her. "I do not," she scoffed, finding no hint of amusement on his face.

He shook his head. "Emma," he said. "When you think no one's looking, you sneak glances at him. And when you turned around this morning when I walked in … I'm not saying you love him. I'm not saying anything. But whatever it is that you're denying that you feel … it's written all over your face."

"You're out of your mind," Emma said, shaking her head. "And you're way out of line. I don't have … feelings for him. I mean … I like him, sure, and he's good company but I'm not … I don't … " She frowned. "I barely know him, David. You can't have feelings like that for someone you barely know."

"Can't you?" he said, eyebrow arched.

"Maybe you can," Emma muttered. "You're Prince Fucking Charming. But I'm not a princess, and this isn't a fairy tale … I grew up in the real world, and in the real world, you learn quick to guard your heart."

"I didn't come here to upset you," he said. "It's just … Emma, what do you think is going to happen, if you let things keep going this way? You think whatever you are or aren't feeling now is going to … what? Disappear? I thought that would happen too, once." He shook his head. "If it's there, it's not going anywhere."

Emma couldn't concentrate on anything the rest of the afternoon, hard as she tried. Every time she tried to do something, David's words came rushing back to her.

It was ridiculous. It was stupid. She wasn't falling for Killian. He certainly wasn't in love with her. They were just … friends. Sure, he was always making his innuendos and sly comments, but that was just who he was.

It didn't mean anything.

It was shortly before four when she finally left the sheriff's station, her nerves completely shot. She was keyed-up and antsy, and she knew she had to do something. If David was noticing things that were absolutely not there … well, things couldn't continue this way.

The apartment was quiet when she got back, and she wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not. She moved into the kitchen after hanging up her jacket and scarf — it was starting to become much more fall-like outside these days — and set about making herself some hot cocoa. That always helped calm her down.

Killian entered the kitchen a few minutes later, and Emma blinked a bit. His hair was damp, as though he'd just gotten out of the shower, and he was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a white t-shirt. He must've borrowed some of David's old clothes. She honestly wasn't sure how to react to this change … he looked good. Really good. It was sort of jarring to see him out of his pirate garb though.

She missed it, actually. He didn't seem quite … Killian without it.

"Well, love, are you going to say anything?" he asked her after a minute. "It was your idea, after all." He gave her a grin, and she let out a sigh of relief. Of course, he was acting like nothing that had happened this morning had happened.

Because it didn't matter. He didn't have feelings for her. She was being stupid.

And she knew what she needed to do.

She took a deep breath then, steeling herself for what she had to do now. "Hook, we need to talk."