Disclaimer: I do not own the show or the characters of Once Upon A Time. There's no profit except writing practice being made here.

"What exactly is wrong with my attire?" Killian asked, mostly so that Swan would look back at him instead of the other people on the street. He knew he was dressed abnormally for the realm and that it may be prudent to change, but her gaze had not returned to his nor had Emma said anything in the minute since she'd announced he needed new clothes.

There it was, her attention, back on him, her lips tilted softly upwards, eyelashes fluttering downwards. "This much black leather doesn't exactly come into vogue here," she looked at him seriously. "Ever."

Then Emma proceeded to hook her fingers around his elbow and usher him across the road, completely knocking him off kilter with her touch, something that should have been barely noticeable through his layers, but that Killian couldn't coax his thoughts away from.

"Besides, won't there be another you walking around soon?"

"Aye," he nodded, pulling his forearm close to his chest so that she was just that little bit closer. "Six days prior to our arrival at Storybrooke, I - he - should be here."

Emma swayed toward him, her shoulder nudging his as she tried to avoid an ambling pedestrian coming towards them on the paved path. "Just how long were you here before you found us, anyway?"

The question was a serious one, but Emma hadn't even looked up at him, nor had she stopped walking, so Killian didn't respond to it. He wasn't sure, at this point, whether his answering 'seven moons' would be considered a romantic gesture in the eyes of his Swan, or if she'd push the comment aside with disbelief. She did that, sometimes, even when she did believe the response she was told but just couldn't face the reality of its meaning just yet.

"Right," Emma said, leading him down toward another intersecting path, this one traversed by both people on two-wheeled vehicles as well as encased in the four-wheeled carriages. "So, we need to minimise you making a lasting impression."

Killian rose his eyebrow at her. "Whatever I wear, I'm still a devilishly handsome pirate."

"It's more for me," Emma said.

Killian stopped completely, amused by the way Emma's breath hitched when she realised the implications of what she'd said. Turning and smirking at Emma, Killian made it known her gasp had only drawn more attention to what she'd said rather than indicating to him to strike the sentence from his record of the conversation. His smile grew larger at the sight of the pink dusting across her cheeks.

"That way I don't grab the other you and confuse him with our plan."

"You'll grab me, eh?" He ignored the fair point she was making about hiding his obviousness by making him blend in, making it easier to tell the difference between the two Killian Jones' that would be walking around the town, in favour of encouraging that flush to deepen.

"Or, actually," Emma stopped them in the middle of the path, completely ignoring his jibes, much to Killian's chagrin. "We could just lie low for a day until you arrive and find me - Emma," she corrected herself, "Then figure out what we're doing."

"That would certainly void any nasty occurrences of you running into the other me," Killian attested, though he couldn't be sure he was even here yet, having no manner of record on his person at the time of when and where he was exactly. It was remiss of him to not have kept a captain's log, but keeping one had not been his priority. He'd instead kept notes on whatever papers he had found in Tamara and Neal's apartment and those notes had been solely what he had found and how he thought he'd convince Emma to believe he wasn't a madman - all of which had been confiscated from him in the brig and then disposed of once Emma drank the potion he'd hoped to leave for Henry.

"Could you imagine how bad it would be for people to see you in two places at once?"

Killian shook his head. He could think of a few things words. "That would be nothing compared to what might happen if we affect the timeline," he told her, far more concerned by what might happen if Emma ran into the other him and Killian stopped on his quest to find and save the Savior from an existence without her family, assuming she knew her family was in Storybrooke and she had simply chosen not to reunite with the parents she had so once been so desperate to find. "Which means proceeding with all caution. You're not from a world of magic, I am. Even the smallest of changes could have catastrophic consequences. Things must happen as they always did."

Killian rubbed his lips together, a horrible thought occurring to him as he finished telling Emma Swan about how terrible a situation could manifest should they disrupt the existing course of events. His profession, all of the roles he'd played in his life, had taught Killian the importance of preparing for all occasions, the necessity of taking in all possible lines of thought and viewing a scenario from all angles. This one sent a shiver down his spine and the stony crust he'd forged around his heart over his long, lonely existence, cracked.

Killian was conscious that this was the sort of moment he'd absently stroke down the hair around his lips as a predictable act he normally undertook when stressed and unsure how to proceed. Instead, he forced his touch outward, reaching for one of those soft curls that Emma's golden locks fell into without her attention.

If what he was thinking was something Emma was also thinking, then these might be their last moments and he would do well to memorise her features again. Not that Killian needed to, his life would whither into the same monochromic monotony as it had before and he'd slowly waste away just as he had after Liam and Milah and Emma the first time. He might stay in New York, he allowed himself to think briefly. Except that Emma had always made it clear that no one was to go with her and Henry when she left, she was running away to find home, as much as she claimed, but she was also running away from them. Or Storybrooke, although looking upon the face of David and the famed Snow White, just as it had last time, would prove too reminiscent of Emma Swan and her lovely features. He didn't think his heart would survive such an existence, but he'd thought the same after his other losses too. The difference, Killian knew, would be that there was no vengeance or desire to live in honour of her memory that would tide him over.

Killian ran those soft, beautiful strands of spun gold between his thumb and forefinger, not daring to touch her more lest she flinch but needing to know the feeling. Just once. His fingers, especially the nail of his thumb, was caked in dirt and Killian's face tightened into a scowl. He was darkness to her light, that much was always obvious but easy enough for Killian to shrug off. He knew those labels were meaningless and a person was capable of both if pushed in one direction or the other. She and her father sentenced him a pirate as though it was an unworthy title and it cut, it always did, but was something he could brush off. At no moment than staring at his grubby thumb and the thin line of brown dirt where his ring caught in the dirt as he was dragged through the portal had it been more obvious to him that he was unworthy; a peasant despite his time in the navy, and she a revered princess who deserved more he could off.

Especially because all his belongings, any riches he would promise, were in another realm and in the possession of someone else. He'd left it all; gold, jewels; in the hopes of finding her and giving her back her home and her.

Killian would be a liar if he claimed no hope to be favoured in response, but he'd not intended to ask for a reward of any sort other than to be allowed to see, even if just once, Emma Swan in the flesh again.

"Unless-" he watched her hair fall through his fingers as he tugged it into place and then, selfishly, needing just one more moment this close, Killian brushed Emma's hair over her shoulder. What he didn't do - couldn't, for fear of witnessing her pleased reaction - was meet her eyes. He swallowed thickly. "Unless you would like to change things."

She was watching him, green eyes searching his face, Killian could feel her, breath slow but turning shallow as she exhaled.

Reluctantly, Killian lifted his eyes upwards, intending to do so in measured intervals until he saw her lips and his eyes flicked upwards in one swift motion, desperate to understand. Emma Swan was frowning.

"Change things?" her voice was whispered, lacking the typical Emma Swan aggression that had her yelling her confusion so that no one assumed her vulnerability to be weakness.

Killian swallowed again, shrinking his hand back to his side. "Prevent me - him, you know what I mean," he scowled at his own ineptitude and the way his voice sounded as though he was a deckhand whining of the hard work he'd been instructed to undertake when he tried to clarify exactly who he was referring to, "From bringing you back to Storybrooke."

Emma's eyebrows pulled downwards, her soft face scrunching. Even in confusion and anger, Emma Swan was the most beautiful woman Killian Jones had ever seen, adorable in her sweetness and endearing him with her loveliness when her eyes were squinted with rage and her jaw clenched with obstinance.

Killain was unable to stop himself. He smiled at her expression.

"You mean, never get my memories of giving Henry up or having parents and a brother and actual friends and Neal not being a total asshole?"

Killian chucked, ducking his head and taking a step away from her. Emma was about to see the beauty of such an option, he could feel it. Why else would her voice lilt upwards as though with excitement at the prospect?

"I could have a life, just me and Henry, and never have to worry if my instinct to hold him was something I learnt myself in the year and a half I've known him, or if it's something Regina learnt in the eleven years she mothered him."

There it was, hope smoothing out Emma's frown.

Killian forced himself not to take another step away or else Emma might be swayed by his expression. Not that she typically took his wants into account, nor would he let her, but Emma had a tendency to believe she owed anyone and everyone her time and their happiness at a risk to her own. Killian Jones would not be one of the many Emma Swan believed herself to owe in that manner.

So, instead of letting the crumbling edges of his heart show on his face or in his actions as he distanced himself from her, Killian stood his ground, staring Emma down and waiting, as blank as he could make his face, awaiting her decision.

"But then I'd never be here," Emma countered her own argument. "I've seen enough movies to know about paradoxes. That choice can't ever be made because if we do that, then I never go to Storybrooke and then we never get here and never stop us from going to Storybrooke."

Killian tried not to sigh too loudly. He wasn't sure about movies or what paradox actually meant in terms of Emma's movies, but he understood the concept of what she was saying. "So we don't have a choice, we must keep events on track and make sure we go to Storybrooke."

Emma inhaled deeply, unsatisfied, unseeing the shakiness in Killian's fingers or the paleness he was sure was evident on his face where it felt as all the blood had leeched from his body. "Well, you've found me before. So long as we don't interrupt that, we should be fine."

Killian nodded, waiting for Swan to continue. She seemed like she would with one of her brilliant plans.

Emma twisted her torso, gesturing around her as though indicating the whole of the bustling town. "I think it's best if we just hid away and let the other you find Henry and me. You did it before without out assistance, right? So we'll just stow away on the Jolly Roger."

"Or," Killian could see her plans to find his ship and sit tight until the storm passed and they could move about the city as they pleased without fear of being seen by another version of themselves. He couldn't allow Swan to see ask the whereabouts of his ship lest he have to announce who was currently captaining his ship and how willingly he'd handed over the wheel. "We could search for a method of returning to our time."

Emma tilted her head, her hair falling in front of her eyes but Killian didn't reach out and move it out of the way this time. "Good thinking. Any ideas?"

Killian chuckled. They always did make a great team, and Emma asking his advice was proof of that. Only, Killian knew she had the answers without his imput and could use the accompanying confidence boost of being reminded of that fact. "You said something of a dragon, love?"

"Aye," Emma sent him a winning smirk. She was atrocious at mimicking his accent but that didn't stop her from being adorable when she attempted.

He sent her a smile of his own, matching her, though he was still not convinced his heart was in one piece.