A/N: Damn FF and it's erase of supposed links! a few of you had a question around the name of Killian's matchmaking company. It's .

"I'm Killian Jones." His hand was soft but firm as he shook hers. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Those weren't goosebumps - the good kind this time - running through her body the moment Killian Jones' hand came into contact with hers. Not at all. The office was drafty, something that always happened in old buildings like this one. That was going to be Emma's story and she'd stick to it. She wasn't the type to get chills over a guy, especially one who was the subject of her investigation.

Emma mustered the most polite, distant, and professional tone she had. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Jones."

"Please, call me Killian." His smile was soft and genuine, with not a care in the world and just a hint of mischief. "If you'd be so kind as to follow me..." he trailed off, his hand gesturing towards one of the wooden doors she'd noticed earlier. "We can continue this in my office."

Emma nodded, taken slightly aback by his gentlemanly manners and agreeable disposition. She truly had expected offended owners taking it out on her when she was simply trying to do her job. She followed Killian to his office and he gave her another smile as he held the door open for her.

"After you," he insisted.

Emma walked into the office and her eyes quickly started to scan the space for possible clues. It was an airy and spacious room, filled with natural light and sporting a bit of a nautical theme here and there. It, too, had a mahogany desk where a laptop sat amongst piles of files. It seemed to be a theme, there were several files stacked here and there, while the walls were covered in boards plastered with post-its, pictures, and notes.

As far as Emma could tell, it seemed like the real thing. The boards were worn around the edges and a few grey marks were discernible where some of the old writing hadn't completely come off, leaving a ghost print behind. Some of the files were neatly stacked on different glass case cabinets, while others were scattered around the desk. It could be staged, but if it was, they had done a really great job because she couldn't pick up one wrong thing from it. All her bullshit vibes were coming out clean on this one. They seemed legit.

Killian interrupted her thoughts. "Feel free to take a seat once you're done with your thorough review of my work space."

She turned around, feeling warmth spread across her cheeks, and met his amused stare. "I'm sorry, I -"

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "No apologies needed. It's your job after all, Miss Swan. You're here to investigate." He pulled a chair for her, his hand motioning towards her as he nodded. Emma took a seat, catching a hint of his cologne, some musky, ocean air scent, as she did. Then, rather than taking the seat across from her, Killian perched at the edge of his desk, maintaining a narrow distance between them that was bordering on unprofessional. He bore his eyes into hers, the incandescent blue of his eyes making her skin tingle in a way that was also certainly not professional.

"Have we passed the test?" he asked with a slight raise of his eyebrow.

It was a look Emma would find quite entertaining - and plain sexy - if it were focused on her in a dimly lit bar, especially if it was accompanied by a brush of his thigh against hers underneath the bar. But that was neither here nor there, as this wasn't a man she'd met while looking for a few hours of entertainment. She needed to refocus herself on the task at hand.

"It's not as simple as that." She shrugged, feigning nonchalance and working to school her face to pretend she wasn't impressed by any of it. "You could have staged all this."

He gave a small chuckle, nodding his head and staring off at one of the boards as he pondered her idea for a few moments. When he returned his attention to her, he leaned in. His propped his elbow on his knee and rested his chin in his hand. The look he gave her could almost be described as endearing - his eyebrow raised slightly and his eyes shining brightly with curiosity, if she were the type of woman to be easily swayed.

"So... who was it?" he asked, interrupting her train of thought, again.

"Huh?"

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Who wants us investigated?"

"I was sent here by the Chamber, Mr. Jones. There's been no -"

He cut her off again with a wave of his hand as he leaned back into his original position. "Aye, aye… the chamber wouldn't act of its own accord, and we both know it." There was a dangerous edge to the timbre of his voice, something that spoke of letting her in on a secret, a secret Emma Swan would very much want to be a part of. "Clearly someone complained."

Silence hung between them for a few moments as Killian kept his intense gaze on Emma, willing her to spill what information she might have. Emma held his stare, though she found it hard to gaze intently at the blue eyes that were staring back at her. She couldn't help feeling that she was being read like an open book, that he was peeling back her layers and getting to the core of what made her her. But before she could blink, Killian broke the moment.

"It was GoldenHeart wasn't it?"

There was a glint to his smile and Emma couldn't help the way the corner of own her mouth ticked up. It seemed that it was all the confirmation Killian Jones had needed. He sighed and pushed up off his desk, pacing a little as he ran a hand through his hair. "You know they scammed their data people out of their intellectual property rights to the algorithms?"

Emma tilted her head, her interest piqued about his concern over algorithms. "And how do you even know that? I mean, what would you know about algorithms?"

He rolled his eyes at her question and clenched his jaw. "Of course we know about them." His voice came off a little gruff, and there was a hint of exasperation hidden in it. He seemed to be slightly offended at her question. "We're not amateurs. We may choose not to use them, but even a company set on matching via personal bonds needs a filing system. And this circle is small. I've known Jefferson Hatter for years."

He reached to scratch behind his ear and Emma could feel him moving from annoyed to slightly embarrassed at the way he reacted. "I offered him a job here when everything backfired with Gold and he found himself in need of means to support his daughter. Wanted to see if he had what we were looking for, but he's a data guy. He didn't think he could do this by heart."

"Heart? That's what you're going for?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Killian froze and for a fleeting moment Emma feared she'd ruined the good disposition he'd been showing her. But she couldn't help herself, what he claimed was almost unbelievable.

He gave her a playful smirk, and Emma could see in that moment a little of the bad boy he was rumored to have once been - according to those few rumors she managed to pick up from the grapevine.

He took a few steps back to where he had perched himself on the desk earlier, but instead of sitting, he simply bent and leaned in, placing his elbow on the desk until his eyes were level with hers. "Heart, guts, intuition, magic… call it what you want, but that is what we do. We simply have it."

The way he popped that last "t" bordered on salacious and Emma knew Killian knew it. She also knew that her own reaction to his words was borderline dangerous. She needed to put a stop to this.

"I'm going to need more than that as proof, Mr. Jones." She pushed herself into the back of her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

He picked up on her cue quite easily and leaned backwards. "Please, call me Killian." He tilted his head and looked at her for a few moments. "I'll prove it to you."

"How?" she asked, unable to keep her disbelief from her voice. She uncrossed her arms and stood up to face him.

"I'll take you on as my own personal case during your investigation." He seemed very sure of himself at the very moment, the way he shrugged carelessly, a confident smile playing at the edge of his lips, his eyes glinting with mischief. "While you're working your case, perusing through our files and interviewing our successfully matched clients, I'll be working on you." He cocked an eyebrow as his tongue darted out to lick his lips.

Emma frowned and narrowed her eyes at him, biting back a retort at his blatant innuendo. She knew the glare she was giving him was one that quelled even her most difficult subjects, but it seemed to do nothing in deterring Killian Jones and his smug grin.

"I'll find your perfect match, love."

She leaned in, one of her hands resting on the edge of the desk, and let a self-assured smile play across her lips. "Not your love."

He pressed further into her personal space. "Aye, true enough. But you're someone's love, and I'm going to find him - or her - for you."