Author's note: I really have to say this story is among one of my favorites. I'm just having so much fun writing this version of Killian and Emma's story. If you are too, thanks! That said...those of you who know me, know I am not a fan of Person. He does not come off well in my stories (mostly because I think he's the epitome of the nice guy trope and I HATE that with a passion!). So if you are fond of Person (no judgment, to each their own and all that), then you might not be crazy about a bit of this chapter. I hope you can forgive me. Or not. Basically, it's my story and I do what I want! ;)

Disclaimer: Is this thing on?

Chapter 4

He started using it a couple of days after their date. The date, as she dubbed it to Elsa. That night had been so overwhelming in so many ways, getting a nickname out of wasn't exactly high on her list of priorities.

So Emma didn't think anything of it the first time he used it. Swan. After the constellation he was fond of.

Emma wasn't really into nicknames. For herself at least. Whenever someone tried to call her "Em" or some other dumbass variation of her name, she shut it down. Fast. Her name was Emma. In some ways a granny name, but it was hers. Killian, of course, made it sound much better than it was. When he said it, it sounded regal and elegant, surely what her mother had been thinking of when she chose it.

But lately, he'd begun calling her Swan. It actually took Emma a few moments to realize it, but she found that she didn't mind it. It reminded her of that night and it was definitely a memory she wanted to hang on to. It was their thing.

They were developing quite a few things of late. After that first morning, there was always a text awaiting her when she woke up. Sometimes a joke, sometimes a picture, sometimes simply good morning beautiful. It never failed to make her smile.

Emma tried not examine things too closely, trying to just live in the moment. Not that they were getting many of those. Killian's new hours had kicked in right after their date and they hadn't had much time together. Between working and his research, Emma didn't see him as much as she hoped. But she knew it was selfish to expect him to drop everything for her. His dedication to getting his degree and his job was one of the things she liked about him.

It was so different from the idiots back in New York.

However, they did manage to talk every day, even if they didn't see each other. Emma found herself watching a few ocean based nature shows on the Discovery channel to pass some of the time, not wanting to be the clingy girlfriend. Was she his girlfriend? They hadn't talked about that, hadn't talked about anything to do with labels. Emma was still afraid of ruining...whatever they were becoming. Especially when she still wasn't sure there was a thing to ruin.

But today she was going to surprise him. Emma stopped by one of the local pizza places—not a chain, thank goodness—and picked up a couple of pies. She didn't know exactly what he liked—they hadn't gotten that far in the 'getting to know you' part—so she got mushroom and sausage for her and a half meat lovers, half veggie for him.

It took her over fifteen minutes to find his apartment—she got turned around twice—but she was happy to see his Jeep in the parking lot. He was working a bit on his thesis; Emma was hoping he'd appreciate the break.

Emma did remember which apartment was his, trooping up the two flights of stairs. The visit was completely unannounced, so she was a little nervous. Still, she knocked briskly on the door, hearing the faint sound of...was that an orchestra? The tune sounded vaguely familiar but she couldn't place it. There was a shuffling of feet and the door opened to a thoroughly distracted Killian. Who looked unfairly attractive even so with the slightly mussed hair, slightly thicker scruff and a pencil clamped in his teeth.

"Swan?"

"Um, hi?" She smiled brightly, holding out the pizza boxes. "Hungry?"

He looked from the boxes to her face, a broad grin transforming his face. "Famished actually. Come on in."

Emma stepped through the door, Killian taking the boxes from her. He laid them on his makeshift coffee table. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Emma shrugged, trying not to fidget with her hands. "I just thought you could use the break."

Killian stepped back into her space, nodding. "You have excellent timing, love." She saw his eyes flicker to her lips, then his hands came up to cup her face. Her hands curled around his strong forearms as he leaned in to kiss her, Emma sighing happily into it. Killian definitely loved taking advantage of her permission to kiss her whenever he wanted. Honestly, she loved it too, such open affection new to her.

"Happy to see me then?" she asked, their faces only a few inches apart.

"Emma, I am always happy to see you." His thumbs caressed her cheekbones and Emma chewed a bit on her lip. It was so easy to be near him like this now, no longer the wonder of what if. She knew how they were together and it was really, really good.

She leaned back in for another kiss, unable to resist the temptation of his lips. His kisses warmed her all the way to her toes, the gentle give and take, tongues sliding and stroking. Her arms wound around his waist, happy to feel the solidness of him against her again. It surprised her how much she had missed it.

"Did you miss me, Swan?" he asked, toying with some of her hair.

"Maybe. Or maybe I was just hungry."

He took her teasing in stride, kissing the tip of her nose. "Well, it appears you've brought us a feast. It certainly smells delicious."

"I got them from that place over on Second. It had good reviews on Yelp."

Killian laughed, releasing her and moving toward his kitchen. "You actually looked at the reviews?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "And what's wrong with that? People do it all the time!"

"In the city, perhaps. Around here most of us hope for the best." He brought them some paper plates—left over from their picnic, she noticed—and some napkins. "As it happens, I love that place." He punctuated his teasing with a gentle squeeze of her hand. "I've only got water and beer I'm afraid. Been too busy to do the shopping."

"Beer's fine." Emma sat on his couch, arranging the pizzas on what passed for a coffee table. "Wait, if you've been to busy to get groceries, what have you been eating?"

"Worried about me, love?" Killian asked, returning with two bottles of beer. Emma accepted hers with a huff.

"I was just curious. Didn't you have stuff from that picnic leftover?"

"For a few days. Mostly to serve as lunch at work."

"Oh." Packed lunches for work was another thing she was unfamiliar with. You have to get out more, Emma. Sheesh. "I wish you'd have said something."

"I don't need you to look after me, Emma."

"I know. I just...nevermind." She wasn't even sure how that sentence was going to end; she just knew she didn't like the idea of him being alone.

Killian gently cupped her chin. "Hey, I didn't mean it like that. I'm very happy to see you, Emma. But I'd have been happy with just you. The dinner is just a bonus."

There were moments—like this one—where she was convinced he was too good to be true. Almost no one was every happy with just her. They almost always wanted something from her. But not Killian. The way his eyes lit up when he saw her...that couldn't be faked. She knew what fake happiness looked like. Fake interest. Killian's regard for her was real and genuine and scared the bejeezus out of her.

"I may have missed you," she admitted. "Just a little."

The corner of his mouth came up in that half smile she secretly loved. "I missed you too." He dragged his thumb over her bottom lip again, then nodded at their food. "We should eat before it gets cold."

"Good idea."

They dug in; Killian, as it turned out, much preferred the meat lovers over the veggie. They chatted about some of the things Emma had been doing to pass the time—she left out the nature shows, it was too embarrassing—Killian complaining about the weather mucking with his research.

"I've had to go out there twice in the last week to make sure the traps haven't become unmoored, bloody annoying. And expensive."

His finances were none of her business, but she couldn't help but notice the nervous tic in his jaw. "Why?"

Killian took a long pull on his beer. "Well, it's costs a pretty penny to rent my spot at the marina. And there's a gas for the engine. Maintenance to keep her running. I do most of it myself, of course, but the parts aren't cheap. If I lose any of those traps, it could push everything back and I'm really tired of school."

"Don't you like it?"

Killian gave her a sardonic grin. "I love what I do. I love going out there and doing the work. It's the school part, the writing and such, that I can do without. But I need this thesis to graduate and do what I really want to do."

"What's that?"

"Work with endangered species, rehabilitate habitats, that sort of thing."

"Like those...oh, what were they? Humpback whales?"

Killian cocked his head at her, a brow raised. "Been watching some Discovery Channel, love?"

Emma flushed, outed. "It was on. I was bored."

"So you watched a special about humpback whales? Seems unlikely for a lass from New York," he teased. "It's the wrong time of year for them, I'm afraid. But that is the general idea, yeah. There are several preserves around the islands. My adviser thinks he can get me an interview or three."

"So you'd stay here?"

"Well, perhaps not Oahu. I'm not sure, really. Wherever they needed me, I suppose."

"Oh." She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Of course, they weren't even officially a...thing yet, so she ignored the sudden rock in the pit of her stomach. "It's good that you have a plan though."

Killian chuckled. "Dunno how good of a plan it is, Swan. It doesn't go much beyond graduate and get an interview."

"At least you can get an interview. And no one has any preconceived notions about you."

"The world is populated by imbeciles, love. You just have to keep trying."

"I can't even get my dad to take me seriously." She hated this, whining to him about her problems. She didn't have to worry about an empty fridge while working her ass off at what amounted to two jobs. She could just go about her life, flashing her credit card wherever she went. She didn't even know how much money was in her trust fund.

Sad and pathetic, that's what she was.

Killian put down his nearly empty bottle and twined his fingers with hers. "Anyone who doesn't give you a chance is an idiot."

"You barely know me."

Killian brushed some hair back from her face. "I'd thought we'd established that I know you quite well, love. Just...start small. Make them take you seriously. Perhaps you'll surprise them. And yourself."

"Sounds easy when you say it like that."

"Oh, it's not. The good things are never easy. But it's always worth it."

"How do you know that?"

"You're here, aren't you?"

"This is a good thing?"

"Emma, you're the best thing that's happened to me in a very long time." There was a brief flash of pain and grief in his eyes, then it was gone. Again, she wanted to ask, but she hoped he'd tell her when he was ready.

"Me too." She smiled and kissed him, just because she could. Killian gently pushed her back against the couch, deepening the kiss. He tasted of a mixture of pizza and beer, which was fine, because so did she. Her hands slid up under his shirt, kneading and stroking his back. Killian growled low in his throat, his hips slipping easily between her legs. She could feel him already, the thick ridge hardening as he ground ever so slightly against her.

"Bloody hell, I've missed you, lass," he murmured into her neck, peppering the skin with kisses. Emma bit her lip, the hard knot of desire pooling in her belly. How did he get to her so fast?

His hand was up her shirt, pulling the cup down so he could pluck at her nipple, mouth hot on her stomach...when the door opened.

There were shouts ("Bloody hell!" "Don't you knock anymore, mate!" "Oh my god!") and a mad scramble with clothes before Emma found out who their visitor was. Emma had her arms crossed tightly across her chest, cheeks flaming red as Killian introduced his friend Will, who he promptly cuffed around the head.

"Ouch! What the bloody hell was that for?"

"For not knocking, you dolt! What's the matter with you, Scarlet?"

Emma didn't say anything, just tried to look at anything that wasn't Will. She was beyond embarrassed, worse than throwing up or burping. She'd been perilously close to being half naked, on the way to fully naked with her almost boyfriend! And there was still a tendril of desire coiling through her, Killian's obvious anger at being interrupted doing very bad (very good) things to her.

"Well, I thought I'd get ya out of this bleeding dungeon you call an apartment, but it seems ya had other plans," Will explained, still nursing the sore spot on his head.

"Ever heard of a phone?" Killian grumbled.

"I've never had ta call ya before!"

"I didn't have a girlfriend before, you bleeding arse!"

Emma's head snapped around, but Killian made no further amendment to his statement. It just seemed to be a fact for him. She was his girlfriend and that was that. Emma wasn't about to complain—that would be dumb—but she had to admit to a little thrill at hearing the words out loud.

"Ya tell her that?" Will shot back, noticing Emma for the first time. He didn't look impressed. In fact, he kinda sneered at her.

"What?"

"I mean, mate, that your girlfriend seems surprised."

Killian looked at Emma, realization coloring his handsome features. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting to use that word either. "Swan?"

"Yeah, I'm here. Really." She took his outstretched hand, stepping into his side. She held out her other hand to Will to shake. "Hi. I'm Emma."

Will gave her hand a perfunctory shake, then dropped it. "So yer the lass this one hasn't been able ta shut up about."

Emma decided to let that pass. Although the idea that Killian had been talking her up to his friends was a good sign. "It's nice to meet you. Killian's mentioned you a few times."

"Nothing good I hope."

"All very disreputable," she assured him with a mischievous grin, hoping that would disarm him a bit. He seemed unusually hostile and she hadn't done anything.

Will finally cracked a bit of smile. "Aye, he's a good lad. If a bit bookish." Will rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm, ah, sorry for, ah, interrupin'. Guess I'll be on me way."

Emma glanced at Killian. She didn't want to be the reason he got estranged from his friends. And with his limited time lately, Will probably hadn't seen much of Killian either. "Or, you could stay. We could, I don't know, watch a movie or something? Killian?"

But Will replied before Killian could. "Nah, I'll just go. There's a pint with me name on it at Granny's. Night, Killian."

"Night, Will." Killian shut the door behind his friend, turning back to Emma. "Sorry about that, love."

"Which part, Will interrupting us or announcing I'm your girlfriend?"

His brows arched one at a time, as he sighed apologetically. "Both? That just slipped out."

"I could tell."

"I can take..."

Emma put a finger to his lips. "Don't. I like...this, us. I like being an us, okay?"

Killian kissed her finger. "Aye." The mood was pretty much killed, but they didn't mean they couldn't spend some more time together.

Emma reached for his other hand. "Come on, let's watch that movie. Then I'll let you get back to work."

Killian grinned. "How do you feel about Hook?"

They wound up watching Hook and Peter Pan before she left. They had been Killian's favorite's as a child—it so explained the skull and crossbones on his Jeep—and he even lent her his battered copy of the book to read. It sat on the passenger seat as she drove back to her bungalow, hoping to curl up with it on the back patio.

Her phone vibrated and Emma grumbled, knowing she couldn't get to it, as it was in her pocket. She shouldn't even answer it when she was driving anyway. Either way, it distracted her just enough that she missed the broken glass in the road. There was a lot of crunching and a very loud bang. Emma slammed on the breaks, thankful she was the only one on the road to her place. The car bumped along as she slowed; at least one of the tires was blown.

"Shit," Emma cursed. She got the Lexus off to the side and shut off the engine. Looking around, she opened the door slowly, intending to inspect the damage. She groaned as she saw both front tires were punctured. She popped the trunk and sure enough, there was only one full size spare, not that she knew how to change it. Her first instinct was to call Killian, but she couldn't drag him all the way out here for this. He had work to do. Plus Emma was a big girl. She could handle it.

By calling resort maintenance—it was their car after all—and having them fix it.

She leaned against the hood and dialed, the switchboard sending her call to the garage.

"Garage," the male voice said crisply. Only it was GAR-age, like Killian always said. So this guy was a Brit too, it seemed.

"Hi. This is Emma Nolan, bungalow 205. I seem to have run over some glass while driving home and both front tires are blown."

"Is there anything else damaged?"

"I don't think so. Just the tires."

"Okay. We're a bit short handed this evening, but I will be there as soon as possible, Miss Nolan. I'm Robin, by the way."

"Thanks, Robin." She gave him her location as precisely as she could and settled in to wait. She checked her missed calls to see who'd been calling her, resisting the urge to text Killian. There were two missed calls from Elsa and no message. Strange.

Emma dialed again, cringing when she realized what time it must be in New York. "Emma! There you are!"

"Sorry, I was driving. What's up?"

"I was wondering how you were," Elsa lied. Emma could tell she was lying by the slightly higher pitch in her voice. Her friend was the worst liar ever. "You haven't checked in lately."

"Are you my warden now?"

"Well, no. But I am your friend. I was curious how things were going with your...you know, new friend?"

"Elsa, you can use his name. And I think he and I are past the friend stage." If they'd ever really been friends to begin with, Emma chuckled to herself.

"Something's happened," Elsa accused. "Oh spill! Please?"

Emma glanced around to see if Robin was there yet, but no dice. She knew Elsa had a reason for calling; Emma decided it could wait. It didn't seem to be life and death, whatever it was. "Well, um," she hedged. "He did kind of call me his girlfriend tonight."

"He did?!" Elsa squealed. It was so loud Emma had to pull the phone away from her ear. "That's wonderful!"

Emma couldn't stop the smile that curved her lips. "Yeah, I think it is." She was surprisingly calm about it, once she got over the initial shock. "He didn't exactly do it on purpose though." She recounted the tale of Will walking in on them and the ensuing embarrassment.

"Well, he sounds absolutely vile," Elsa retorted. "Will, not Killian. You said he was rude?"

Emma frowned. "I don't know if rude is the right word. He was definitely standoffish though. I wonder why?"

"Does it matter? It seems pretty clear to me that he was just jealous of you taking his friend away."

"But I'm not! Killian's been really busy lately, working, his research. Surely Will knows that too," she added thoughtfully. No, she definitely got the vibe that there was something else going on there. "I just missed him and wanted to see him."

"Emma, you did nothing wrong. That guy is just a barbarian. Who doesn't knock?"

"Have you ever walked in on Anna and Kristoff?"

"No, thank god." The sound got muffled as Elsa coughed. "I mean, I like him, but there are things I don't need to know."

"But you'll pump me for information about Killian?"

"It's so romantic, Emma!" Elsa scolded. "You know it is!"

"Elsa, I spilled coffee on him," Emma deadpanned. But she was smiling, a big goofy grin. She was happy, spending time with him made her happy. It had been so long since she felt truly happy, she nearly forgot what it felt like.

"All the great ones start that way. Look at Lizzy and Darcy." Oh Elsa and her literary romances. "Or Margaret and Thornton." Yes, Austen and Gaskell were her favorites. They spent way too much time watching the Colin Firth version of Pride and Prejudice. Emma wasn't as fond of them—especially after things with Neal—but she indulged her friend.

"Somehow I doubt we're worthy of our own book," she replied. "We've still only been out a few times."

Elsa harrumphed over the line. "You're not fooling me, Emma. I can hear it on your voice. This is different."

"If you say so." Emma wasn't about to make any great leaps. Live in the moment.

A tow truck pulled up behind her Lexus. Robin arrived, finally. "Elsa, can you hang on a second? The tow truck's here."

"What?" Elsa sounded a bit panicked.

"It's nothing. Blown tire. I'll explain in a sec." She lowered the phone and went to greet the tall older man who climbed down from the truck. "Hi. Sorry about this."

Robin smiled at her genially. "It's no trouble, Miss. It's what we're here for. I put in a call to the grounds crew to clear up that glass. Nasty stuff."

"I don't know how I missed it. But I knew as soon as I hit it that something was wrong."

"Just the two tires?"

"Yeah."

"Should be finished in about fifteen minutes." He nodded at her and went to get his tools. Emma stood around a bit aimlessly, but soon moved down the road a bit so she could hear Elsa. Robin's small air jack was loud.

"Elsa, you still there?"

"Yes, listening so that you don't get murdered."

Emma rolled her eyes. So dramatic. Killian would like her. "I haven't had any trouble since I got here. The resort is very safe." Besides, Elsa knew damn well Emma could take care of herself.

Elsa sighed. "I know, Emma. I just worry about you, so far away."

"I'm fine."

"Well, you might not be after I tell you something."

Emma pinched her nose, groaning. "I knew it. What's wrong?"

"I didn't want to tell you, but I've heard some things and I know how much you hate surprises."

"What is it, Elsa?" Emma snapped. Blown tires aside, she'd been having a good day. But she could tell by Elsa's tone that she wasn't going to like whatever this was.

"Neal asked about you."

Emma's brow furrowed, eyes narrowing. "He what? Why?" They'd broken up two years ago; they hadn't exchanged more than forced passing polite pleasantries since. Emma wanted nothing to do with him.

"I don't know," Elsa said worriedly. "He ran into Anna at one of Kristoff's hockey games."

"That still doesn't explain why he'd want to know about me."

"You know how he is, Emma." Yeah, a controlling jerk, that's who. Starting off all sweet and solicitous until he's ordering your food for you and expecting you to be at his beck and call. Emma couldn't figure out what she ever saw in him. Their break up had been nasty; he wouldn't take "no" for an answer. It was months and the threat of a restraining order that finally got him to leave her alone. It was only after that Emma found out he'd been cheating on her with some woman named Tamara.

"It was two years ago though. Isn't he dating that model? Mulan?" It was impossible to not know since their pictures were splashed all over the tabloids. Neal's father was the uber rich Robert Gold after all.

"Last I heard he was. You know I would never speak to him." Elsa had been the first to call out some of Neal's questionable behavior, but Emma had been too blinded by her love for him to notice. They'd all grown up together, more or less, running around with the same circle of friends. He'd seemed like a nice guy. He claimed to have had a crush on Emma for years, so she figured why not? It started out well, but the warning signs had been there from the beginning.

"That's because you're a good friend, Elsa. Thanks." She paused. "He doesn't know I'm here, right?"

"I asked Anna that specifically and it seems not. The papers haven't really noticed either, although I think that's because the Mayor's daughter is getting married."

"Oh lord."

"Yeah, it's been a nightmare. Be glad you're there and not here."

"Oh I am. Listen, I don't want to think anymore that that asshole. Just let me know if anything changes, okay?"

"Okay. I should get going; it's late here."

Emma glanced at her car; it seemed Robin was finishing up as well. "Yeah, I think my tires are just about fixed too. Good night, Elsa."

"Bye." They hung up and Emma strode back to her car. Robin was wiping his hands on a dirty cloth.

"All finished, Miss. They should be good as new now."

"Thank you so much. I never learned how to change a tire."

"Not many people do nowadays what with AAA and whatnot." He dung in his truck for a clipboard. "If you'll just sign this, I can get you on your way."

Emma scribbled her name, then dug in her small bag. She pulled out two twenties and handed them to Robin, along with the clipboard. "Thanks again."

Robin shook his head. "I couldn't, Miss Nolan."

"One for each tire," she insisted. "I'd still be stuck here otherwise. It's the least I can do."

Robin nodded. "Very well." He accepted the clipboard and cash. "You have a good rest of your evening."

"You too."

Emma made it home with no further incidents. She texted Killian a picture of her holding his book with a drink in her hand, which he got quite the kick out of. It was just what she needed to put Neal out of her mind.

"Killian, can you come in here?"

Killian's brow furrowed in curiosity as Robin's voice crackled over the intercom. It wasn't like him. Killian wiped his hands on the rag and shoved it on his pocket. He was gonna need some extra degreaser to get the rest off after spending the better part of the morning flushing radiators and changing spark plugs.

"What is it, Robin?" Killian asked, stopping short when he saw that this friend wasn't alone. The man was tall—taller than him—with keen blue eyes, dark brown hair and a five o'clock shadow.

"Killian, I'd like you to meet August Booth, our new mechanic," Robin said, pulling Killian's attention away.

"Oh." Silently, Killian let out a sigh of relief; the latent fear that his clandestine relationship with Emma would be found out almost getting the better of him. He just needed to get through the summer. If they lasted beyond that, of course. Abruptly, Killian held out his hand. "Killian Jones. It'll be good to have some help around here, August."

August had a firm handshake. "Thanks. Looks like I got here just in time, huh?"

Killian chuckled. "What gave it away? The line around the block?" Regina insisted all the vehicles be inspected at the beginning of the busy summer season; with Smee gone, it was taking them longer than usual, even with all the extra hours Killian was putting in.

"Speaking of which, Killian, I'm giving you the rest of the weekend off. August and I can handle this."

"Robin, I can stay. It's no trouble." Frankly, he'd been hoping to spend some time with Emma, but he couldn't in good conscience leave Robin in the lurch.

"August, will you excuse us?"

"Sure."

As soon as they were alone, Killian opened his mouth to argue again, but Robin cut him off. "You've been here every day for nearly two weeks. I'm really grateful, but you've got more important things to do. Am I right?"

Killian frowned. "More important?"

Robin grinned. "Well, I can't imagine that new girlfriend of yours is overly happy about you having no free time."

"Robin..."

Robin zipped up his overalls. "Look, Killian. I know you think I'm sticking my nose where it doesn't belong, but you've been happier since you met this girl...whoever she is. Which is something we're going to have to fix, sooner or later, by the way. What's the damn mystery for anyway?"

Killian tried not to fidget, not really wanting to hear a lecture—or worse, get fired—at the moment. "I don't want to scare her off," he half lied, looking past Robin and focusing on a spot behind his friend's head. "The boss parading around as a concerned older brother thing isn't the most attractive, you know."

Robin sighed in defeat. "Fine, have your secret then, you stubborn arse. But I'm serious about getting out of here. Go. Have some fun. That's an order."

Killian ignored the dull ache in his chest; there's no way Robin could know how much those last words hurt. "If you insist. See you on Monday." He waved farewell and headed for the washroom to clean up. He was scrubbing his hands for the third time when his phone started vibrating. "Oh bloody hell." He rinsed quickly and dried his hands, but it stopped before he could answer it. It was a call from Emma.

Killian ducked into the break room and rang her back. She picked up on the first ring. "There you are," she said, a little breathless.

"Sorry, I was washing up."

"Work?" she guessed.

"Aye. But I've been released for the rest of the weekend."

"You have? That's great!" She sounded so happy, it eased the lingering ache in his heart. She just made his world better by being in it.

"Did you have plans, love?"

"Nothing official. I was hoping to see a certain someone though."

"Is he devilishly handsome?"

"Oh, he thinks he is. Believes he's God's gift, really." If he didn't know for a fact that she loved him a little arrogant and smug, he'd think she was insulting him.

"Perhaps you should give him the chance to prove it."

"Maybe I will." There was the rustling of a paper bag and he wondered what she'd been up to. "So since you're free," she said, a bit haltingly, "would you like to go out with me?"

Killian frowned. "Out? What I was thinking of involves staying in, lass."

"All in good time," Emma replied, sounding mysterious. "I believe it's my turn to plan a date."

"And what was the other night?" He'd been thrilled to see her, despite the interruption.

"That wasn't a date. Dates involve going out."

Killian laughed. She sometimes had the oddest notions. "As you wish."

"Great. I'll pick you up in an hour? Oh and be ready for the beach."

"I'm intrigued, Swan. I'll see you then." They hung up and Killian headed out to his Jeep, waving goodbye to Robin and August. It was nearly noon; he had to negotiate the lunch traffic back to his place. Once there, he scrubbed the rest of the grease off his hands and forearms and changed into his trunks and a white t-shirt. He stuffed his somewhat threadbare UH beach towel into his duffle and a bottle of sunscreen. The date wouldn't have a very good end if he got burnt. He was hunting for one of his textbooks when he heard Emma honk. Cursing, he looked through another stack until he found what he was looking for; he shoved it into the bag as well, then dashed off.

"Hey, would you mind taking those bags up to your place?" Emma asked, as he opened the passenger's door. "I don't want it to spoil."

He raised a curious brow, but nodded. "Of course, Swan. I'll be right back." He grabbed the three grocery bags and took them up to his apartment. His fridge was still nearly empty, so they fit easily. "What's the occasion?" he asked, when he got back.

"It's a surprise," she replied with a cryptic grin.

Before she could get in another word, Killian leaned across the gear shift and kissed her, the now familiar feel of her lips still making his heart rate spike. "I happen to love surprises," he chuckled, stealing another kiss.

"Well, hopefully, you still will after." Her hand reached over for his, threading their fingers together. It was another one of those loving, intimate gestures that just happened. Killian didn't even know if she knew she was doing it. But every time, he fell just a tiny bit harder for her.

"I'm sure I will, lass."

Emma smiled at him, then turned back to the steering wheel. The sound of the GPS startled him as she backed out into the street. "Just where are we going that we need that bloody thing?"

Emma blushed. "I thought we'd spend the afternoon at Sunset Beach. I've never been there, hence the GPS."

Killian switched it off. "Well, fortunately, I have. And I can get us there a lot better than some ruddy computerized voice." Emma's laugh filled the car, clearly amused by his indigence. He guided her through the streets and out to the highway, secretly glad that her plans involved them going somewhere that wasn't Crocodile Bay. He was in favor of staying as far away from the resort as possible.

The beach was busier than he hoped, but it wasn't nearly as bad as he'd seen it in the height of summer. They had a couple more weeks until the deluge arrived, usually after the Memorial Day holiday.

"Want to find us a spot, while I get us an umbrella?"

"Those things are heavy, Swan."

Emma slung her own bag over her shoulder. "Hey, I'm tougher than I look. Go on."

He was still a bit skeptical. It wasn't that he doubted her—far from it—but...his gentlemanly instincts didn't like her doing things like that by herself. Still, he respected her decision and squeezed her hand briefly before heading down the beach to find them a spot. She followed him a few minutes later, blue umbrella over her shoulder.

"See? Easy." She stumbled a bit in the sand; Killian caught her before she fell.

"What were you saying, love?" he teased.

"Shut up." She dropped the umbrella and righted herself. "God, I am such a klutz!"

"Everyone slips in the sand," Killian soothed, picking up the umbrella and setting it up. It took some doing; the sand was softer than he expected and he had to wedge it to get it to stand up. Once open, the umbrella gave them a nice patch out of the sun. "This what you had in mind?"

Emma slipped off her sandals and nodded. "Yeah. That's perfect." She smiled at him, her earlier frustration forgotten. He loved seeing her smile like that, like she didn't have a care in the world. It lit up her whole face.

They spread out their towels and Killian peeled off his shirt. He was already hot; he was thinking about taking a dip in the ocean until he saw what Emma was wearing under her clothes. Her colorful wrap came undone, exposing her gorgeous legs. The bikini bottoms were bright red, with ties on either side of her hips. The smallest tug could expose a lot more than Killian wanted anyone else to see.

The top was just as scandalous, her black off the shoulder shirt dropping to the sand, leaving only the matching red bikini top. It tied around her back and up behind her neck, neat bows Killian itched to pull. It was so tiny she was almost spilling out of it, and Killian's mouth watered.

Emma swept her long hair up into a loose bun and plopped down on her towel. "Killian?"

"Yeah?" he said distractedly.

"Mind lathering me up?" she asked, a smirk playing on her lips. Oh yes, she knew exactly what she was doing to him. His blood ran in a distinctly southerly direction; he hoped his trunks hid it well. He was simply drawn to her, and god, it had been far too long since he'd had her.

"Of course, love," he said, dropping to his knees next to her. "As long as you don't mind returning the favor?"

Her smirk got bigger. "I think I can handle that." Her sunglasses made it impossible to see if her eyes were lingering on him the way his were her, but he already knew that she found him...impressive. She handed him the bottle and lay back, propped up on her elbows.

Killian started slow, rubbing lotion into her skin, her feet, calves, shins, thighs. His hands lingered longer than was strictly necessary, noting the way her breathing would get shallow whenever he touched a sensitive place. He made mental notes of all of them; this was really the first time he got to truly explore her body and having it in the open like this added a certain thrill.

Her stomach muscles trembled as he applied lotion there as well; Killian left a lingering kiss to her navel before rubbing lotion there too, his fingers slipping just below the waist of her bottoms. Emma bit her lip, swallowing thickly. Killian urged her to sit up, turning her back to him. He started rubbing lotion over her chest, fingers skimming the swell of her breasts. A soft whimper tumbled from her lips; Killian had to bite back his own groan.

"I love touching you," he whispered, kissing her neck. "You're always so soft."

"Killian..."

He rubbed more lotion into her arms and shoulders, the toned muscles relaxing under his touch. "Are you wet for me, love? Right now? I think you are."

Emma licked her lips again, leaning back. "What if I was?"

"Then I'd call you a dirty wanton thing," he murmured, placing another kiss to the nape of her neck.

"I...can't...help it," she said, turning her head up. She pulled him down by the neck and kissed him breathless. "I can't stop thinking about you."

"I know exactly what you mean, lass." He kissed her again, briefly, then finished applying lotion to her back. Why did they always let themselves get riled up in public? Every instinct was telling him to drag her into his lap and let her ride him until they were blind from the pleasure. "As soon as we get home, love."

"Okay." Emma took the bottle back and returned the favor, her small hands kneading his muscles as she worked. It didn't help the she kept leaning obscenely over him, as if her lithe body was taunting him. By the time she was done, he was painfully hard and using all his willpower to not fuck her right there on the beach.

"I'm going to go for a swim," he announced. He didn't miss Emma's grin, the minx. At some point, he was going to make her pay. He applied some sunscreen to his face, then chucked his sunglasses onto his towel. "Coming?" He strode purposely toward the water, waiting for her to follow.

His feet were imprinting on the wet sand by the time she caught up. Her hair was loose down her back again, just the way he liked it. The water was warm as it splashed around their ankles. Emma took off ahead of him, diving into the water with a splash. Killian muttered a curse and chased after her, gasping when the water came into contact with his heated flesh. When he surfaced, Emma was still about twenty feet away from him, treading water through the oncoming swells.

Killian ducked under the water again, swimming in her direction and catching her around the legs, dunking her. She struggled and splashed until they came up for air. "Hey!" she cried out indignantly. Her hair was streaming with water, her cheeks were flushed, green eyes flashing like the ocean.

"I thought you could handle it, Swan," he taunted, hand pressing into the small of her back.

"I'd watch yourself there, buddy," she shot back, finger poking his chest. "Especially if you want to play later."

His hand slid down over her ass, giving it a little squeeze under the water. "We both know that's an empty threat, love." She had as little willpower as he did; they just couldn't keep their hands to themselves.

Her eyes roved over him. "Damn you," she cursed. Her hands slid over his wet skin until she was drawing him in for a slightly salty kiss. "I've missed you."

"I know." His hands trailed up along the curve of her spine, mindful that they weren't alone. "Let's enjoy the afternoon, yeah? I don't have to be back at work until Monday."

"Really?"

"Really. And when we get back I don't intend for us to leave the bed until then." He grinned when Emma shivered, despite the warm water. He intended to explore every inch of her and let her do the same to him. They had some lost time to make up for.

They were packing up when Emma saw it. "Oh look! A swing!"

Killian looked in the direction she was pointing. There was a rope swing hanging from one of the larger palm trees. The sun was setting, but they had some time. "Would you like to..." He gestured toward the swing.

"Oh yes!" She sounded giddy, like a child, and it was infectious. Killian shouldered their bags, leaving the umbrella there. They could get it on their way back. Emma took off for the swing, her damp hair streaming behind her. Once again, Killian wondered what her life was like in New York, how such simple things could make her smile. It was just like that day at the arcade, almost like she was coming out of a cocoon.

"Emma, slow down!" Killian called, but she ignored him. By the time he caught up she was already on the swing, her wrap fluttering around her legs.

"Push me!" she ordered, fingers curling around the rope.

"Not until I've checked those knots," he admonished. He didn't want her getting hurt on some ancient swing. He dropped their bags in the sand and bent down to examine the seat; it was a piece of driftwood, thick and sturdy. There were holes drilled in it for the rope. Killian checked the knots carefully, eyes traveling the length of the rope, checking for fraying or loose coils. Satisfied, he grinned. "Ready, Swan?"

"Nice and high, Killian. Show me what you've got."

He pulled the swing back until her toes were barely touching the ground then pushed off. On the return arc, he pushed, over and over again, listening to Emma's merry laughter. She swung her legs once she was too high for him to reach, getting just that little bit higher. Killian dug in his bag for his phone, unable to resist snapping a few pictures of her. She was beautiful, all smiles and sparkling eyes with the sun setting behind her.

"Are any of them good?" Emma asked, slowing down.

Killian's cheeks tinged pink, caught. "I'd like to think so." He'd done some photography in school, but those were sea creatures.

"May I see?"

Killian walked over, holding out his phone. He watched with baited breath as she examined the photos, her cheeks turning a pleasing shade of pink in turn. "I think there's one missing," she said finally.

"How do you figure?"

"Come here," she replied, getting him to stand behind her. She flipped the camera and held it up so that both of them were in the shot. Killian wrapped his arms around her and looked into the camera, a huge grin on his face. Emma snapped a handful of photos, her own smile wide and happy. "Much better."

Killian pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, reaching up to take his phone back. As soon as her hand was free, Emma curled it behind his neck, forcing his lips back to hers. The angle was awkward but neither cared, wanting to indulge in the small spot of privacy the swing provided.

"Let's go home," Emma said quietly, fingers sliding over his skin.

They drove back to his apartment in amiable silence, Killian giving her the occasional direction. He was alternately excited and wary. He knew every moment he spent with her brought him more and more into her orbit, her hold on him almost magnetic in its intensity. He absolutely should walk away from this, let her get back to her life, but he couldn't. Nor did he want to. She was the first woman he'd felt more than a passing fancy for since Liam died.

Surely, his brother wouldn't want him to be alone?

"Hey, you in there?" Emma asked, touching his thigh.

"Aye, sorry. Got a little lost in thought."

"You want to talk about it?"

Killian covered her hand with his. "Soon, love. But not today."

Emma gave him an understanding smile, then turned back to the road. They arrived about ten minutes later, Killian carrying their bags upstairs. Emma dug a basket out of her trunk; Killian gave her a curious look, but she just shook her head.

Emma dropped off the basket in the kitchen. "Hey, can I use your shower? I want to get all this sand off."

Was she trying to kill him? The idea of her naked in his shower had kept him up for many a night. He dropped their bags at the foot of his bed, nodding. "Of course. It's just through there." He pointed, watching her as she sauntered over, untying her wrap and letting it drop to the floor.

To his credit, he lasted until he heard the water running. The old pipes rattled to life and Killian counted to twenty five. He grabbed a condom out of his dresser, knowing exactly what would happen once he stepped into the room. His shirt came off before he stepped through the bathroom door, his trunks joined her bikini on the tile. Emma was standing behind the glass door, water pouring over her, steam filling the room. Killian pushed back on the door, stepping inside quietly. He put the foil packet on the ledge for later.

"Took you long enough," Emma muttered, still facing away from him. Her fingers carded through her wet hair as Killian's hands came around her waist.

"Expecting me to join you, love?"

"I needed you to join me," she countered, head leaning back against his chest. "I was about to go crazy here."

"Well, we can't have that now," he said, kissing the shell of her ear. "What do you want?"

She covered his hands with hers. "Just touch me." The water sluiced over them, beading here and there from the lingering sunscreen. Killian reached over for his soap, squeezing a generous amount directly on her skin. Emma stood still as he worked, the lather spreading over her, her stomach, her ribcage, her hips. She let out a little whine when he moved to her back, deliberately avoiding where she wanted him. Except her ass. Killian couldn't help giving the globes a firm squeeze; he was rather fond of that part of her. Finally, he cupped a heavy breast in each hand, fondling, tweaking, plucking, Emma's needy moans echoing in the small space.

"Do you like my hands on you, love?" He kissed her neck, the spot just below her ear that made her whimper. "Do you dream about me touching you?"

"Oh god, yes," Emma moaned, her hands coming to rest on his hips, her ass cradling his aching cock. "More."

Killian buried his head in her neck, biting down gently where it met her shoulder. His right hand slid down her body, ducking into the spray to remove the suds. Then he found her cleft, sinfully bare and slick, his fingers deftly rubbing her clit.

"Oh." Emma's hips rocked into his hand, craving more of his touch. Killian obliged her, fingers sliding through her folds, loving how eager she was for him. Her rolling hips put much needed friction on his cock and he groaned.

"Fuck, Emma."

Emma bit her lip, one of her hands leaving his hip and reaching further behind her to stroke him. Killian hissed in pleasure, her soapy hand heaven on throbbing erection. He thrust two fingers inside her, determined to make her come before he took her. He didn't want to hurt her, remembering how snug she was around him.

"Ride my fingers, Swan," he muttered, tweaking her nipple with his other hand. "Then I'll fill you up."

"Fuck." She trembled hard, hips rolling, impaling herself on his fingers, his thumb circling her clit. Emma threw out her hand against the wall of the shower, bracing herself as she tumbled over the edge, his name on her lips. Killian stroked her through it, drawing it out until she went still. He kissed her damp temple, then reached for the foil packet on the ledge. It tore easily and he chucked it over the top of the door, his other hand deftly rolling the latex over his cock.

Killian spun Emma away from the spray and pushed her face first against the wet tile. His hands trailed down her ribcage, pulling her hips back, and spreading her legs as far as the shower would allow.

"Do you want me, Emma?" he asked, his voice rough with desire. If he didn't have her very very soon, he was going to lose his mind.

"Yes!"

Killian held her steady, entering her slowly, still not wanting to hurt her. They both moaned, Emma shoving her hips back, wanting more of him. "Tell me how this feels, love," he bit out, sliding in and out slowly, the tightness of her completely addicting.

Emma's fingers curled into a fist, head falling between her arms. "Fuck, it's so good. Thick...and full. God, I'm so full."

Killian's grip on her tightened, his hips moving just a little bit faster. Hearing those words definitely did something to him, something deep rooted and primal. "Foot up on the ledge," he ordered. Emma did as he bid, her foot shaking. Then he slid just a little deeper inside, her walls fluttering. "Shit," he cursed, his control beginning to fray.

"Fuck me, Killian," Emma gasped, her palm pounding on the tile. "Don't hold back."

He wasn't sure he could have stopped, even if he wanted to. She felt too good, her body too soft and pliant, need pouring out of her in waves. He took her roughly, pounding into her, skin and water slapping, a litany of cries falling from Emma's lips. They came together, her walls gripping him hard, her body shaking, Killian whispering her name over and over.

Killian held her close until she calmed, his chest against her back, arms around her waist. She was so small under him, but as she said earlier, she was tougher than she looked. And, it seemed, liked things a little rough. He brushed her wet hair aside and pressed gentle kisses to her skin. Passion and gentleness coexisted when it came to her, a dichotomy he wasn't used to.

"Alright there, love?" he asked.

"Hmmm, yeah." She sounded blissed out and sated and he couldn't help the smirk. God, he loved pleasing her.

"We should finish the shower before it gets cold."

"Okay." Emma pushed herself off the tile and reached for the soap. "My turn."

Clean and dry, Emma had to borrow some more of his clothes when they emerged from the bathroom. He had to literally bite his tongue when she pulled on his favorite UH tank and matching green boxers. The shirt hung on her, but seeing his clothing on her...God, she was already undeniably sexy and that just made it worse. Not to mention the lack of underthings.

He almost thought she did it on purpose. Just to torment him.

"So what's in the basket, Swan?" he asked, hoping for a distraction. There were so many things he wanted to do to her...patience, Jones.

"Well, since you made dinner on our last date, I thought I'd return the favor," she said, sashaying into the kitchen.

"You're going to cook?"

"Is that so surprising?"

Killian shrugged. "If the princess wishes it, then please do."

Emma rolled her eyes. "You know I'm not a princess, right?"

Killian came up beside her and kissed her cheek. "I think it suits you."

"I don't have any nicknames for you," Emma admitted, a bit sheepish. "Isn't that a couple thing? Pet names?"

"Killian's enough," he assured her. "Now, would you like some help for this feast?"

She shook her head. "You just get us some wine, and have a seat. We can talk while I cook."

Killian got them both a glass of wine—way more expensive than anything he'd ever had, something from France—and settled in on a stool, watching her. It took her some time to figure out how everything in his kitchen worked; he opened his mouth a half dozen times to help, but he realized she wanted to do this herself, that it was important to her.

She started a couple of things in pots, consulting the cookbook she had propped up next to the stove. She looked rather adorable, hair pulled back in a lopsided bun, tongue poking out of her mouth as she thought. Part of him wanted to kiss the thoughtful frown off her face, pull her into his arms and call for Chinese, but he refrained.

"Um, how do you turn your oven on?" she asked sheepishly.

Killian hopped off his stool and came over to show her. "It's a bit tricky. It's old and doesn't always work the first time." He turned the temperature dial to 350, then switched it from bake to broil and back again. They waited a couple of minutes, then he stuck his hand inside. "There. What temperature did you need?"

"400? I think."

Killian moved the dial to the appropriate place. "Give it about fifteen minutes and it should be ready."

"Thanks."

He brushed some stray hair behind her ear. "It's my pleasure, love."

Emma sucked her lip into her mouth, looking up at him through her lashes. "I, uh, know I said I didn't want you to help, but do you want to help me chop up some things for the casserole?"

"Sure." He kissed her brow and went to where she had a variety of herbs and vegetables spread out. Emma brought the cookbook with her and together they followed the instructions, trying to make things look like they did in the picture. It was so domestic; it was hard to believe that he could be just as happy cooking beside her as he was being intimate with her.

Once everything was either simmering or baking, they settled on the couch with their wine. Emma cuddled into his side, her feet tucked up under her.

"What are you thinking about, love?" Killian asked after she'd been quiet for a while.

"Nothing."

He smiled, kissing the top of her head. "Liar."

"You won't like it."

That had him slightly freaked out. "Why don't you try me?"

Emma sat up, a bit reluctant. "I don't want to dump my crap on you."

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not crap, darling."

To his surprise, her lip trembled. "You've never called me that before."

"Should I not?"

"No, no, I like it. Let's just say the last guy I dated only used things like that...ironically."

"Sounds like a right ponce so far."

Emma snorted. "I'm not sure what that means, but you're probably right." She pressed her hands lightly against his chest, her right settling over his heart. "But that's what I was thinking about. Just now. How different this...we are. I mean that in a good way, in case you were wondering."

"I hope so, considering how you were screaming my name earlier."

Emma swatted his shoulder. "I meant more than that. Although that's pretty great too."

"And we've only done that twice, love." Then he cupped her cheek. "But I know what you mean." He drew her in for a kiss, hoping it would distract him from some of the feelings swirling his head. Feelings that it was way too early to have. Wasn't it?

Emma crawled into his lap, short circuiting any line of thought. Her kisses grew needy, feverish. Killian's hands were up her (his) shirt in a flash, rubbing slow circles into the base of her spine.

"Why do I want you so much?" Emma asked, her tongue licking at his Adam's apple. Secretly, Killian was relieved. Relieved to know he wasn't the only one feeling like this. From that very first kiss, she was all he could think about, that spark between them blazing at a moment's notice. It was frightening and thrilling at the same time.

The hotter they burned was worse they could flame out.

And he didn't want that. Ever.

Emma ground into his lap, her hands tugging on her shirt...and the oven buzzed. She whined in complaint, still kissing him. Reluctantly, Killian pulled his hands back. "Swan." Emma chased his lips, kissing him hard, pressing her forehead to his.

"I heard it. I'm going." Killian gave her ass a swat as she got up, needing a few minutes before he could follow.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to deny the truth. He was falling in love with her. Without rhyme, or reason, or logic. But when was love logical? That's what all the songs said anyway.

What was he supposed to do now?