This chapter jumps around a bit, but I hope you still like it and follow along with the story. I can't say it enough how much I enjoy your comments. Yes, we're in store for a little angst, but I promise to be gentle.

Killian wondered if it was supposed to be easy and natural to be there in that bed as Emma curled a single fist against his chest and mumbled a few nonsense words against the skin of his neck. He had found himself in this position a few times, wide awake as she dozed against him, burrowing into his embrace as she warded off the cold chill of the morning. He had already learned that about her, learned that her skin reacted quickly to the temperature, bringing out the protective side of him as his arm covered her bare shoulders.

Feeling the slight tickle of her eyelashes against his neck, he smiled to himself. "Has the alarm gone off?" she muttered, flattening out her fist over where his heart was beating. "I swear mornings come faster and faster."

"Just a few minutes until it will sound," he said softly. "Care to enjoy our moments of leisure."

She dropped a kiss against the cords of his neck before tilting her head back to peer up at him. "Would take more than a few minutes to really enjoy," she countered saucily, "but you're welcome to try."

"I do love a challenge," he teased back, rolling their embrace so that she was on her back and he was hovered over her. The soft morning light creeping in was dancing in her eyes as she giggled – a sound he was sure he would never get fully used to hearing – and her smile seemed both playful and taunting. "And you are too beautiful to resist, love."

"I don't think you've ever even tried." His fingers dug into her side to elicit another round of giggles as he tickled her. Her voice was wavering when she finally spoke again. "You've never tried to resist me."

"Bloody failure I am," he admonished himself. He didn't fail in persuading her to stay in bed a little longer, even making her breakfast as she showered that morning so she wouldn't be late for work.

***AAA***

Graham had not bothered to take his belongings to the sheriff's actual office, telling a curious Robin and John that he preferred to wait until after the election. "I would prefer to be the proper sheriff before I begin commandeering space," he answered, taking his seat with the rest of them for the morning briefing. John had suggested a pool to indicate how long everyone thought it would be before David smarted off in some way about the situation, but nobody paid attention.

"David said he might be a little late," Emma said that Friday morning as she twisted the old fashioned phone cord in between her fingers. The frown on her features was evident as she stared at a single sheet of paper. "Did you know that Hans and his brother made bail?"

He probably wasn't listening, which was why he barely shrugged his shoulders and continued making notes on something she was not privy to at that time. Realizing his lack of attention and interest, she frowned. "Graham?"

Startled, the man looked up from his own notes and smiled. "Sorry, is there something I need to know?"

"Hans was released this morning. His family paid the bond in cash." The phone's cord was wrapped tightly around her free hand, a twisted mess. "Where did they get the money?" The wheels in her head turn with the lack of possibilities, as she knew like everyone that the family was cash poor. They owned many holdings, but they could barely rub two coins together.

"Sold something, I guess," Graham answered, confusion evident in his eyes over displeasure with that. "Spencer Nolan's already walking around town and it bothers you about the brothers?"

Emma wasn't sure that she could put her anxiety into words. "Mr. Nolan is a jerk and certainly a menace, but he's lazy and unable to the work himself. The difference is that he's strategic and not likely to act on impulse." She didn't finish her thought that the brothers were more likely to act out of retaliation and anger.

"I doubt they would do much," Graham consoled a bit condescendingly. "You're more likely to see Hans in a bathtub washing off the stench of the jail and the itchiness of his jumper than plotting to get back at those who wronged him."

"It's always dangerous to assume someone is too stupid, lazy, or distracted." She looked back at the release form. "Where did he get that money?"

Graham's mouth formed the words to shoot down the question, reminding Emma that it was hardly important. Most of the criminals they arrested had very short initial stays in jail before their trials. However, even a blind man could see that the men's release was wearing on her. "Is it possible that Mr. Nolan paid the tab. Whatever their motivations, Spencer Nolan did convince the two of them to do his dirty work. Perhaps old Spencer has a bit of a soft side and agreed to pay their way out of jail?"

Her lips protruded as she thought about that for a moment, considering the likelihood. "Too much of a risk," Emma decided, rattling the paper. "I guess I should concentrate on what they are doing now that they are out."

Graham repeated that he thought they would be too busy planning their defense to worry about her or anyone else's involvement. However, Emma seemed unconvinced by it. "Perhaps the sister – Elsa – she might provide some insight. It might be a good idea to let them know what's going on anyway."

***AAA***

The building where Killian worked took casual Fridays to a serious level. The amount of denim, flannel, and cotton was alarming to anyone who detested such things. Killian wasn't necessarily opposed to it, but when the t-shirt Smee was wearing bore the famous lines of a sci-fi movie, the stubble faced man wished for a simple starched shirt and even a clip on tie. It was hard to take him seriously as he barked out numbers with a giant image of Yoda stretched thin over his portly form.

"The refurb is well under way," he claimed cheerily. "Hard to believe, but the company seemed to be just sitting around waiting for the job. The lady Greene will be on her way for her latest humanitarian efforts in the lap of nautical luxury."

A chuckle rose from the salesman's throat. "Just what did you order, Smee? I thought we were putting in a few extra bunks and rehauling the engine. You seem to think you're flipping it"

The older assistant looked a bit embarrassed as he realized how he had been gushing over the details. "It'll be a beauty of a rehab." He skipped over the skeptical face of Killian and looked pleadingly at Eric. "I should check on the progress."

Eric mutely nodded before taking a long sip of coffee from the company issued mug that all of the employees had received at the last holiday party. Nobody had thought how confusing it was to tell the difference in the dozens of similar mugs, causing all of them to write initials on the bottom of them. The eager man had already left the room by the time Eric looked to Killian. "Good job with the sale," he said with admiration. He raised his mug in a mocking toast like gesture. "I didn't know you had it in you, Jones."

The slight flush to Killian's cheeks was evident from the compliment. "If you doubted I could do it, you wouldn't have assigned it to me and you probably wouldn't have hired me, mate." Killian was aware that the sale had not been among his easiest, but with both parties desperate, he'd managed to make it work well for everyone involved. "But I'd rather not delve into those waters again."

Eric grimaced. "Don't tell me that you are having a moral dilemma over that sale. What the money is used for is not our business. Those two brothers needed the cash. It's not our business why."

Killian's right ankle rested on his knee, the imperfect stance adding to the company's casual appearance that morning. "Aye, but I do know. They kidnapped a girl and her fiancé. They gave my own girlfriend the run around about their guilt. And now they are out roaming the streets because you thought it was important to help them make that sale."

Eric essentially shrugged his shoulders at the litany of guilt that Killian was listing. "Those men are some of our best clients. They buy at least 10 new ships a year without a single complaint about price or time. They keep us in the black, Killian." His index finger circled the rim of the cup. "You haven't been doing quite as well with your quotas as of late. The owners wanted me to talk to you about it."

"I would think this sale put me back in their good graces," Killian said, shifting almost imperceptibly under the scrutiny. "I have two or three others on the line." He knew that he had been distracted lately, what with the accusations and spending time with Emma.

"Yes, well, consider it a bit of a warning," Eric said. "They aren't likely to be buying anything else for a while – at least until this legal trouble blows over. Might be better to concentrate on other interests and companies. This arrangement with Ms. Greene seems quite promising. She's a leader in her family's charitable interests and these humanitarian efforts are in need of the type of equipment we can provide. She has made mention of another two or three similar sized vessels for some work in Haiti? And another for some work in Central America."

"Tink's always got some sort of plan," Killian answered hesitantly. "She doesn't always think these things through so I can't say that any of her plans will ever fully evolve into a sale."

That wasn't news to Eric, who agreed silently. "That's why you need to be more involved there. Help guide her and influence her. The sales professional in you should know how to do it."

***AAA***

Emma's hands gripped the steering wheel especially tighter as she drove along the wet roads toward Elsa's home. The snow had almost all melted, leaving the roadways glistening with water that ran across in widening rivulets. It was not the weather that had Emma being such a careful and nervous driver, but her passenger who was commenting about his desire for the long break around Thanksgiving that had her exceeding the caution normally reserved for the road.

"I could use a break," Henry told her, his dark eyes flashing with glee as they made way along the winding road. "People don't think so, but it's hard to be a kid sometimes. I've got stress."

She suppressed a chuckle at the overly dramatic statement he was making, something she could clearly hear herself saying at his age had there been anyone there to listen. It was, for all intents and purposes the first time she was spending time alone with her son. There were no well-meaning friends in the kitchen and no adopted mothers on the other side of the table.

Henry had not asked why it was Emma and not his mother who had met him at the bus that afternoon. His crooked grin had widened into a full blown smile at the sight of her and he dragged his backpack on the ground as he hopped off the bus and ran for her. She was grateful she had not had to explain to him that Regina had called in a panic, as her meeting with Neal and his father was not going well between the lawyers, threats and concerns over everything. It must have been a desperate situation to have her begging the blonde to take the child away for a few hours.

"So…" Henry drawled, his voice louder now to shake her from her thoughts. "Where are we going?"

Emma leaned forward to see the color of the traffic light she had stopped at. Her car was a bit over the balk line, making the light almost overhead. "I have to do this thing for work, but I thought we could have dinner. Maybe pizza?"

"Cool," he said, kicking his backpack on the floorboard. "I like pizza. This thing for work? Are you going to arrest someone? Question a suspect? Did you bring your gun?" The excitement in his voice reminded her that he was quite young and impressed by her job.

"I'm going to talk to two friends," Emma said quickly. "No danger involved."

Henry looked briefly disappointed at that news, but quickly recovered. "Does this car have a light and siren?"

"Sorry, kid," Emma said, patting the steering wheel of the yellow car with her gloved hand. "This car isn't a patrol car and not really state of the art. It still has a tape player…that doesn't work."

Henry looked curiously at the panel as though he had never seen anything like it before in his life. "No GPS, huh?"

***AAA***

Graham lurked outside the door to David's office, his hand poised to knock and then drew back to his pocket. There was an amused expression on David's face as he finished typing in the last details of a report. "You do realize this will be your office in a few weeks. You don't have to act scared to enter it."

"Just wasn't sure if this was a good time," Graham answered. "I wanted to alert you to where Emma was this afternoon." He shuffled a bit as he walked in and took a seat across from David. "She's visiting that girl who was kidnapped and her sister."

"Not really necessary, but I guess she feels better checking in on them," David answered distractedly. "Piece of advice, Emma is a good deputy, but she can get a little too personally involved on a case. Best thing to do is rein her in a little and let her think she's got your support. But don't fake it. She is a human lie detector."

Graham smiled placating expression. "I'll try to remember that, but it's not like I've ever worked with her before or anything."

"Sorry. I just wanted to impart some advice to you. I haven't really known what to say." David hit the keyboard of his computer with a flourish and pushed himself in the wheeled chair away from it. "You know it wasn't about you. I wasn't afraid of losing to you."

"You probably wouldn't have lost. You have a knack for this. You've been a fine sheriff."

"You will be too," David agreed. "Now, we're a deputy down and I've got six hours of interrogation tapes to go through. You get the honor of traffic duty today."

***AAA***

Emma leaned against the counter in the sisters' kitchen, smiling fondly at the way Elsa seemed to be both older sister and mother to the excited Anna. They were testing cake samples for the upcoming wedding as Kris had already put in his vote and disappeared for some sort of conference call that he couldn't miss. Anna was randomly testing samples as Elsa transcribed her own preferences into an excel spreadsheet that she had developed specifically for the cause.

"The state's attorney said he made bail," Anna informed Emma. "I can't say that's a surprise. He isn't strong enough to sit in jail too long."

Elsa reached over to cover her sister's hands with her own. "I appreciate you coming here, Emma, but it wasn't really necessary. I don't think that Hans would dare to try to do anything with all the eyes on him." The lines on her forehead deepened as she thought. "Maybe we should look into some extra security."

"I'm not changing my life and going into hiding," Anna protested. "It's like being a prisoner." Her rust colored hair flew as she turned to look at the window. "It's not fair to ask me to be guarded."

"Fair or not, I can't lose my sister again," Elsa said, her gaze turning back to Emma. "Is that your suggestion?"

Emma could hear the low hum of the television in the adjoining room where Henry sat watching some show he just had to see. His disappointment in a mundane visit with the two women had not been hard to miss, but Anna had given him a few bites of cake samples and shown him the home theater room. He had been quick to dismiss the disappointment at that point. "I am a bit concerned how he and his brother were able to obtain the money for their bail. I just get a bad feeling about it."

The three discussed options and possibilities for a few minutes longer, throwing out ideas and dismissing them pretty quickly. Anna left them as she went to check on Kris, leaving the other two women alone.

"You're very kind to worry about us," Elsa said, placing the cover over the cake remnants. "But I know you pretty well at this point. It isn't just Anna's safety you're worried about."

"I can't put my finger on it," Emma said taking a seat on one of the padded bar stools in the modern but classic kitchen. "I guess everyone is right and they just sold some of their company or assets, but it was just so fast." She bit at her lip. "It's crazy. I just feel like I've been had here. I'm missing something."

Elsa clucked sympathetically for a moment. "I don't doubt that Hans is the biggest jerk ever. And I'll never forgive or forget, but is it possible you're projecting? You don't seem like the type to take good news well. Don't get prickly about it. I just mean that you are a realist. I am too. We wait on that other shoe to drop. Look at your life right now. There are a lot of shoes dropping. And you're handling them all so well, but part of you wonders what it going to happen next and what if you screw it up, right?"

Emma adjusted the knitted beanie on her golden hair, the one she had not taken off after realizing she would have hat hair. "I really hate it when people do that – analyzing me."

"I know," Elsa said. "I was just trying to help."

***AAA***

Tink's hand gripped the railing that had not been painted yet, her eyes darting from one spot to the next. "You're not ripping me off, Killian, are you?" she asked. Her nose wrinkled as though she was trying to discern something of the value by smell. "I don't need anything too extravagant."

"I know," Killian answered. "I promise. It's perfect for what you're looking for. The ship's in great condition. Plenty of room for passengers, supplies, and whatever else you might need. It's durable and certainly seaworthy."

"And a good deal, right?" she asked. "I run a nonprofit, but that doesn't mean I want to hand you my cash."

"It's a very good deal," Killian soothed. "I would bet it would appraise for at least twice the price." He tapped a foot impatiently as she walked gingerly along the deck, holding back instructions for her to go ahead and hurry. He was tired and anxious, none of which made it any more comfortable to stand there and watch her come up with reasons this had been a bad idea. She was smart, astute, and a good businesswoman, but she was also plagued with doubts when it came to decisions. He knew that of her well.

"And a captain and crew? Have you found those for me too?"

"Lass, I've spent quite a bit of time negotiating this sale for you. I haven't yet had time to find you a crew."

She was a good ten steps ahead of him when she turned and cast a look over her right shoulder, the blonde hair swaying with the movement. "Does that mean you found me a captain? My offer still stands, you know. You could come with me. I know you'd find it much more rewarding than sales. Can't you just imagine captaining your own ship? Especially on a mission like this?"

He forced a laugh. "I'll find you a captain and a suitable crew."

***AAA***

"I was going to offer you some left over pizza, but I think he inhaled it all," Emma said into her phone. "He's playing some video game right now and I'm waiting to hear back from Regina that it is safe to bring him to her house."

"No word on any of this with Neal then?" Killian asked.

"I haven't heard a thing since she told me to get him out of town for the afternoon."

"I'm sure that it will be fine," Killian said. "Regina isn't a woman I'd want to cross and neither are you. The two of you together make a formidable team that no sane person would ever want to cross."

She laughed tightly. "So that means you think Neal is insane?"

"To have left you and hurt you, most certainly," Killian chuckled back. "But I would not worry. Regina will set him in his place and you won't have to worry about him or his intentions toward your boy ever again."

She twisted in the booth so that she could better watch Henry as he continued his quest against zombies or whatever other enemy he was currently fighting. "I don't like people taking on my battles for me," she reminded him. "I'd rather take him on myself."

"Aye," Killian said. "And I would love nothing more than to remove that smirk from his face, but for today that isn't our job. Your job is to keep Henry out of the fray." He cleared his throat. "If you would like, I could come and meet you."

She appreciated the sentiment. "I think we'll be headed back to Storybrooke soon," she told him. "No need in you getting out here on the roads. They are starting to freeze up a little anyway. The snow's been melting and now the temp has been dropping. I'll see you soon."

"Be careful, love," Killian said reluctantly.

"I will. I'll call you when I hit town and maybe you can build us a fire for after I drop off Henry. I wouldn't mind a little time cuddled up with you." She could practically hear the beam in his voice as he promised to do just that with a glass of wine for them to celebrate his latest sale.

"Sounds like quite a coup," she said, sharing a glance with her son who had just smiled at her. "I can't wait to hear about it."

***AAA***

Regina wasn't sure which place was Killian's. She had only been to Emma's apartment once and vaguely recalled Killian's discussion about how he had found the place he called home. Her eyes were weary and the thin jacket she had been wearing in the conference room at city hall was inappropriate for the cold winter air that had settled on Storybrooke. Determining that she had the correct door, she balled her hand into a fist and banged incessantly until she heard the footsteps on the other side.

"Madam Mayor," Killian said, blinking at the light emitted by his own porch light. "To what do I owe the honor?"

"I'm here to collect my son," Regina answered as though the answer she provided should have been obvious. She peered around his shoulder to where the dim light of a dying fire showed no other life in the living room. "Ms. Swan is here, is she not?"

Rubbing his hands on his arms, Killian peers out over her shoulder too as if Emma and Henry might be hiding out there as some sort of joke. "She was to call me when she brought the lad back to you," he said, not fully sure why this conversation was taking place or why Emma was not there to explain. "Has she not…"

"I wouldn't be here if she had," Regina bit out. "Where the hell is my son?"