Killian's feet pounded on the sidewalk as he rushed past the quaint shops and cafés that lined the main street of Storybrooke. Most of them were closed on that Sunday morning, holding out until later to open when more people would be milling about. His eyes did not seem to wander to them though, having a more isolated destination in mind than window shopping for trinkets and odds and ends. He needed to be alone, he told himself, unable to garner the energy to fake the smiles that would squelch Emma's worry.

He'd never meant for her to worry about him, but he knew she was. She was a perceptive lass, he had told her a few times. She could sense the turmoil inside him that he was not sure he could identify himself. He hated lying to her, hated the deception of the words like fine and alright when he felt nothing of the sort.

"Killian!"

The dark haired man looked up from the sidewalk to see Henry waving frantically from the curb. Giving the boy a sort of half smile, he disentangled a hand from his pocket and waved. "Young Mr. Mills," he said, approaching the mayor and Henry. "It appears you and your mother have picked a cold morning for a stroll."

Henry laughed at the man's formality, knowing that was just part of the humor that he seemed to use. "My mom promised me waffles at Granny's if I got caught up on my math assignments. I did!"

"Congratulations," Killian said sincerely, offering his gloved hand to shake. "I'm sure your mother is pleased with your academic progress. Yet I never pegged her as the type to dine at Granny's. Take out, yes, but not an eat at the counter type of woman."

Regina patted her son's shoulder, stealing a glance at her phone and then at the diner across the street. "I'm not above bribing," she said with a wry laugh. "And I'll have you know, Mr. Jones, that I do have my own favorite seat at the counter." Her voice dropped on the word counter as though she did not fully want to admit it. "I may have a penchant for Granny's lasagna, though my own is a bit better."

There was an awkward silence before Henry grabbed his mother's forearm. "You want to join us?"

"I appreciate the invitation, lad, but I've got a bit of business to take care of," he said, offering both mother and son a smile. "Perhaps we'll see each other later?"

***AAA***

Emma closed her eyes and rested her head against her car seat, willing her headache to cease as Ruby ran into the pharmacy with a handful of flyers about the sheriff's race. Mr. Clark was usually easy going about such things, allowing residents to post signs about yard sales or bake sales so long as you purchased something in return. Emma threw a few crumpled bills at her friend and begged for the biggest bottle of aspirin that she could find.

"You're supposed to be taking it easy," Killian had reminded her when she kissed his cheek and turned for the brunette's car with Ruby. "Sick leave and all that."

"This is important," she had reminded him, stopping to look over her shoulder. "You could come with us."

"Perhaps later." His smile faltered a bit before he kissed her again, a sound and short peck that Ruby groaned over. "I've got a few things to do."

Her head tilted to one side. "Are you alright? You're acting strange."

"Fine, love."

Those two words echoed in her hurting head as she waited on Ruby to quit flirting with the mechanic. He should have been off working on the yellow Bug, replacing the radiator and checking the wheel balance. Instead he was blushing and leaning toward Ruby with a stupid grin on his face as she twirled a thick curl around her finger. Emma's eyes closed again as she waited, trying to concentrate on the task at hand and not the worried expression in Killian's eyes that he refused to talk about. She was used to his trying to break down her walls and not the opposite.

Digging into her pocket, she pulled out her phone and pressed the third button that she had designated as his. Admittedly it was strange to have assigned anyone she was dating a speed dial on her phone, but she had done so without much debate. Normally that would scare her, but she pushed that thought aside as she heard his familiar voice asking her to leave a message.

"Hi," she said, trying to find the right words to say as the sun's rays blinded her through the windshield. "I was just wanting to check in with you. You seemed a little off this morning. Give me a call. Love you."

She was just putting her phone back in her pocket when Ruby bounded into the car, dropping a small paper bag into the blonde's lap. "Aspirin and chocolate. I couldn't resist."

"Quite a combo," the deputy muttered, peering into the bag. "What about something to…"

"Drink?" Ruby offered, her bright red lips shining in a smile. She reached into her jacket and pulled out a bottle of water. "Sorry, only two hands. Now break out that chocolate."

Emma swallowed a couple of the aspirin as Ruby broke the candy bar in half and waved the chocolate under her nose. Rolling her eyes, Emma reached out and grabbed it. "Where to next?" she asked.

"Graham's on the radio right now being interviewed," Ruby said thoughtfully. "Mary Margaret's got David occupied and we've dropped off flyers at all the places here on the main drag. I'd say we're doing pretty good." She tapped her hand against the steering wheel. "We could go play hooky for a while. Or you could go take a nap. No offense, but you look like crap."

Emma grimaced. "That's not very nice of you to say."

"I'm not trying to insult you. I'm just worried."

Emma would have responded with something sarcastic and equally comforting, but her phone bleeted out a melody and she reached to answer it.

***AAA***

Elsa's poised and subdued demeanor shone as she sat primly in front of Sidney with her long fingers laced together in her lap. Her blonde hair was so pristine that it was almost white under the bright sunlight that streamed in through the windows of the usually dark newsroom.

"I appreciate you coming in today," Sidney said, a fake smile plastered on his face. "As you can see, we aren't much of a Sunday kind of business."

Offering her own smile with fake backing, she exhaled slowly. "I appreciate your willingness to do this story."

"Yes, well, it appears this political race has become somewhat of a free for all with Sheriff Nolan dropping out and then Deputy Graham deciding that he was not interested either. I'm sure as someone whose family was recently the victim of a violent and dangerous attack that you are concerned about this. Wouldn't you agree there is a complete lack of consciousness for the public safety of this city?"

Elsa stopped herself from tapping her foot. She had not planned on speak again on the dark days of the disappearance of her sister and Kristoff. Her one exception being anything in court to make sure that Hans and the others paid dearly. However, Emma's pleading call had touched something in the normally reserved woman's heart.

"I can't imagine anyone who has the interests of this city more in focus than David Nolan," she told the reporter with an emphatic confidence. "He was instrumental in helping to safely return my sister and her fiancé from the clutches of a sick individual."

Sidney did not appear to be surprised at that, still he tapped the notes he was holding as though he just discovered a secret. "Sheriff Nolan was instrumental," he repeated. "And yet wasn't it Deputy Emma Swan that found them? She was the one who worked with state police."

Elsa's placating smile seemed genuine as she picked a bit of lint off her leg. "It was of course a group effort and the efforts of Emma can't be ignored, but Sheriff Nolan was instrumental in the process. One simply cannot underestimate the quick and strategic leadership that he displayed. I will forever be in his debt."

The interview continued for a good 30 minutes more with a few more questions and Elsa's tireless and glowing recommendation of David. She told Sidney in no uncertain terms that she was pleased with the job that everyone had done, but that David was clearly the star of the show. Her lips quivered as she spoke of the abject loneliness she felt without her sister and how David had sent Emma to comfort her when he could not. If Sidney didn't believe her, he was putting on a good show. So with a final word about how she hoped that people would consider him for reelection, the blonde walked purposefully out of the office and down a quarter of a block before she called Emma.

"Done," she said with a hint of triumph in her voice. "He took a million notes and promised that the story will run Monday."

"Awesome," Emma said, sounding tired and drained. "I really appreciate this Elsa. I owe you dinner for it."

Elsa sighed. "You know I like your boss, but this was laying it on a bit thick."

"He was helpful," Emma pointed out. "He assigned me to the case and gave me quite a bit of latitude."

Balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder, Elsa got into her car and cranked it, reveling in the heat. "Got it. You don't have to convince me. Just the voters."

"You're coming to the election party Tuesday night, right? And Anna and Kris too?" The group had booked Granny's to watch the returns come in and celebrate. David would be reluctant, but Emma felt like they needed that celebratory moment – no matter the outcome. Ruby had convinced her grandmother to make some of the sheriff's favorites. The guest list had not been a formal thing, instead a few phone calls to those who had been supportive.

"Of course," Elsa said. "My sister adores your boss. She thinks he's cute, but don't tell Kris that. And she is dying to talk about wedding plans with his fiancé. I think the two of them are following each other on Pinterest and even have shared a few ideas for party favors for the reception."

"It wouldn't surprise me," Emma commented, chewing loudly and making Elsa cringe. "Sorry. I had to finish that chocolate before Ruby stole it from me. She's positively wolfish when it comes to those things. I really do appreciate this, Elsa."

***AAA***

The waves gently rocked against the dock making for uneven footing as Killian walked along the worn wooden path. There was a time when he was more comfortable with the gentle motion of the seas than he was on land, but that had been years and what seemed like a lifetime ago. Digging his hands into his pockets, he squinted into the sunlight and flinched at its glare off the water. Such brightness with the cold temperatures was disconcerting, but one quick gust of wind told him just how late into the season it was becoming.

The boats that had been packed for the winter creaked and groaned as the water lapped at them. It was another familiar sound to him. His brother had spent more time at the docks than anyone, teaching Killian everything he knew from sailors' knots to navigating with the stars. Their shared bedroom had been a haven of charts and nautical paraphernalia. However, nothing could have prepared Killian for losing his brother. As time progressed he had tried to venture back out on voyages, but it had always felt as if something were missing.

He heard her footsteps first, the familiar rise and fall of her toes and heels in the black leather boots that were her favorite. She carried herself quickly and when she stopped, he turned to face her with a concerned expression. "It's too cold out here for you, lass," he said, starting to peel off the coat he was wearing to give to her.

"And you're soaking up the sun like we're in the tropics?" she asked sardonically. "I'd like to point out that you are probably just as cold as me if not more so since you've been out here longer."

His ear neared his shoulder as he watched her struggle not to show any signs of chill. She lost, wrapping her arms around herself and letting loose with a good shiver. "What are you doing here?" he asked, stepping closer to wrap his arms around her and offer that much heat at least. "I thought that you and Ruby…"

"I was worried about you," she admitted, wrapping her arms around his middle so that she could use some of the warmth of his coat. "You didn't seem normal earlier and then you didn't answer your phone."

"Aye," he said with a kiss to her temple. "It's been a rough day, but I don't think either of us need to catch a chill over it."

Her expression told him that she wasn't buying it, digging her heels into the wooden planks and leaning back her head so that she had to look up at him. "Want to try that again? You never ignore a phone call from me."

"I apologize," he said softly. "I shouldn't have…"

"No," she said. "I'm not asking for an apology. I'm asking what's wrong." She braved a gloved hand outside his warm jacket to run along his jawline. "You can tell me. I've told you stuff."

"Aye, you have." His head leaned toward her touch, a slight almost imperceptible movement. He sighed, his blue eyes closing briefly. When he reopened them she was looking to him with both concern and compassion. "I don't want to disappoint you."

"You couldn't do that," she said solemnly, her eyes showing confusion over this confession. "You're a good person…"

"You do some wonderful things," he continued, ignoring her compliment as he watched her study him closely. "You found Elsa's sister. You help keep this town safe. I'm proud every time someone mentions your name, so proud that you are such an amazing woman and prouder still that you are with me."

"That's my job," Emma said, her expression changing as a distant horn on a ship blew loudly. "Mostly I write parking tickets. You are a great person, Killian."

His laugh was tight and soundless. "I sell boats," he said. "I sell people things they can't afford. I send them into debt so that they can dodge bill collectors for the rest of their days. I sell shipping equipment so that the prices on your favorite store items skyrocket to cover the shipping and transportation expenses. There is nothing noble in that."

Emma blinked against what she would probably claim was the inordinately bright sun that day, but in reality was the beginning of tears. "Killian, there is always something noble about doing a good job. Is that what this is about? Your career?"

He sighed, looking away from her fiery gaze at the water. "Perhaps we should go back to your apartment where it is a touch warmer." His hands were running up and down her covered arms in a fruitless attempt to combat the cold.

She looked skeptical, holding him close to her. "I'm not letting you off the hook," she reminded him, allowing him to guide her back toward the street. "I want to know what's wrong."

***AAA***

Graham shifted uncomfortably outside the door to Mary Margaret's loft apartment, listening as the footsteps grew closer. He had almost backed away from the forest green door a few times, telling himself that he could do this later. However, time was growing shorter and if the sheriff did not already know of his decision it was only a matter of minutes until he did.

It was the teacher who answered the door. Her hair a bit unruly and cheeks a bit flushed as she ushered him inside with a sweep of her arms. "I'm sorry for the mess," she said. "I was looking through boxes for my mother's wedding veil. I thought it was with the dress, but then I realized it wasn't. So I've been looking and now I've got to remember where all these boxes go…" She smiled again. "You're here to talk to David?"

The bearded deputy nodded solemnly. "I thought I should."

She gently touched his forearm. "He's trying to put some stuff away up in the loft," she explained, pointing to a steep set of metal stairs. "He'll be down in a minute. Can I get you anything?"

Despite his protests that he was fine and well, Mary Margaret led him to the wooden kitchen island and steeped him a warm mug of tea to match her own. "It's good for my stomach," she confessed," Wrapping one hand around it and blowing at the steam. "If I continue like this I'm going to be the first bride in history to have to stop the wedding march to vomit." She wrinkled her nose at the idea. "Perhaps I should add ginger or mint."

"You'd hardly be the first," Graham said gently, glancing back at the still empty stairs. "And I don't believe I've added my congratulations. I know you'll make a terrific mother. Even back in school you were always taking care of everyone."

She tilted her head to the side with the memory. "Including you. I remember when you fell on the ice. I think you were trying to impress…"

"Ashley," he answered morosely, not sure that sharing this memory was actually helpful in calming his nerves. "I was trying to show off in front of Ashley and fell down those three steps."

"Yes, one of my best friends. She didn't even notice though. You got pretty banged up and looked pretty pitiful."

"And you helped to bandage me up and set me to rights." He smiled over the mug of his coffee cup. "See, you've always been that mothering figure."

"You've done your fair share of saving," Mary Margaret said with her eyes misting over a bit before she waved a hand in front of her face to stop the potential tears. "When my father passed away…"

"We've known each other a long time," he said, brushing off the words she was too emotional to say. "I don't even remember how we met, but I know you've always been there for me. You have a wonderful heart, Mary Margaret."

It was the creaking on the metal stairs that alerted them that David had descended. However, they both jumped sky high as they heard him speak. "That she has," boomed David's voice. "But the question is why are we noticing it now. And what are you doing here on a Sunday talking to my fiancé." David wiped his hands along the velvety softness of well-worn denim and then fisted them to rest at his waist.

"I'm here to see you," Graham said, his voice shaking slightly with the realization that there was no turning back. "Your lovely fiancé was just giving me some company as I waited on you."

Standing up on her tip toes, Mary Margaret kissed David's cheek, explaining that she was going to walk across the street to get something she needed. He of course offered to go, but she insisted and with a swish of her coat and a resituating of her knitted cap, she was gone and the two men were alone.

"I guess you're here to try to convince me that nothing is going to be that different after the election Tuesday," David said, pulling a soda out of the refrigerator. He was sure that the conversation would be better over a beer, but he was hopeful that the soda would be better at the moment. "Don't worry. I've no reason to do anything but make this a smooth transition."

"I'm…" Graham sat down on the lower than normal wicker settee that left his knees practically at his chest. "I made a decision."

Curiosity quirked at David's brow. "And that would be what sort of decision."

"I've asked people to reconsider their vote," he said weakly, clearing his throat as if it was a cold that make him sound unsure. "To vote for you, David. There is no reason they should not have in the first place."

"I dropped out of the race."

"As did I," Graham said. "Your friends have been helping me to spread the word. And…And I think people are listening."

Running his hand along the side of his face, David frowned back at the man in front of him. "So you're trying to get me elected to a position that I dropped out of the running for? Who does that? Why? I dropped out for a reason. My father…"

"You aren't your father," the deputy answered quickly. "You're a fine sheriff and a better one than I could hope to be for this town. I only apologize that it has taken me this long to see it."

David pushed up to standing, pacing the small space in front of the settee. "You've got to be kidding. Why would you or my friends think this was a good idea? What makes you think that…"

"We knew you would disagree. You are humble, but we all know that this is how it was supposed to play out. You were supposed to be the one to lead us. You're a natural at it. People see that. Even without you campaigning, people are flocking to support you."

David hissed sharply, his anger growing more apparent on his flushed face. "Then why tell me now? I could just go and derail all this. I could go on television and say I don't want this."

"But you do want it," Graham said. "It's not the job. It's everything else. I get that now. I get that I was searching for happiness in the job and you were more about the people. You're the right choice. I only hope that you swallow back your pride…"

"I dropped out," David said with a shake of his head. "This isn't about pride."

"Isn't it?" Mary Margaret asked, letting the door fall shut behind her. "I'm sorry, honey, but I think you're wrong. You dropped out of that race and threw yourself into us. And I'm not saying that the wedding and getting ready for this baby aren't wonderful things. But you said yourself that you weren't sure how to not be Sheriff Nolan."

"I'm not Sheriff Nolan any longer," David announced. His eyes looked toward Graham who had shrunk back against the couch. The deputy's faded jeans and button shirt seemed to mimic the sallow color of his pained expression. "It's not that easy. Are you both insane? I can't just drop out and in this race like it is a line at the grocery store."

"You are hiding, David Nolan," his fiancé chastised with firm voice. "If you were okay with all of this about dropping out, you wouldn't avoid mention of it in the media. You would go with me for breakfast at Granny's instead of insisting on take out. You'd return phone calls from supporters instead of just sending back their campaign contributions." Her dark eyes softened gently as she stepped toward him and reached out to caress the side of his face. "Honey, I know what your father did was horrible and awful. And he's tried everything he could to get you elected. That makes him the bad guy, not you. Your role as sheriff isn't tainted by him."

Breathing in deeply the scent of his future wife's flowery perfume, he rocked a bit on his feet. "I should have cut ties with that man sooner."

"I've never been a fan of your father," Mary Margaret acknowledged. "He's hurt people, including me. But he's your flesh and blood. He's your only biological tie until this little one arrives. So I get it. If my parents were still alive I'd have a hard time saying goodbye to them even if they did those horrible things. But you know what? It doesn't make you weak. It means that you have a good heart and despite everything, you want to believe in family. That's one of the things I love most about you."

David huffed in response, snickering defensively at the idea there was anything admirable about the situation. "My stubbornness?"

She shook her head, smiling brightly as he looked completely perplexed. "Your loyalty and dedication to people. You took Emma into your life and family years ago. She kicked and screamed the whole way, but you did it. And you have never stopped caring about her. You insist she comes to family dinners. And I know that even after we've been married for 20 years that she and her family of her own will be a fixture in our lives. Our children will know each other and consider each other cousins. She's going to be Aunt Emma and you'll be Uncle David to her kids." She swallowed hard, imagining the scene in her head to be true. "But it's not just about that. It's the fact that you have a good heart. You can love her that way. Your father can't do that. But someday and someway you'll move past this hurt you feel with your father. You'll open your life up to him again."

She knew she was right. There was too much pain now, but someday David would try to mend the rift. It wasn't his job to do so, but he would because it was the man he was.

"So now you not only want me to run for sheriff but you're turning into the town psychic." Indignantly he rested his hands on her shoulders. "That's quite a talent. Have you told Emma yet that you picture her married with children? I think she might protest."

"She's not ready to hear it," Mary Margaret agreed with a chuckle of her own before she straightened her posture. "And you're deflecting. Listen to Graham. He's right. You're the sheriff. So act like it. Admit that dropping out was a rash decision that you should have considered more. Admit to the people of Storybrooke that you need them and they need you. You're a natural leader so lead. Don't do it for your father or the Nolan name. Do it because you are meant to do this."

His eyes lingered on the hopeful expression of the teacher in front of him. "You're sure?" She nodded in return. "Fine. What do we do now?"

***AAA***

Emma adjusted the dial on the oven for the left overs she had planned to warm up before padding her way into the living room and crumpling onto the couch with her legs folded under her. She leaned her head on a folded arm on the back of the couch, reaching her hand out to Killian's soft shirt. "So we've warmed up, got dinner heating up in there, and you've read all your emails."

His half smile did not make it up to his eyes as he stared off at the window that let in the little bit of light the apartment saw. The sunset had made a muted palate of oranges, yellows and reds that were not as fiery as they could be but still beautiful.

"I'm not going to pressure you," she said, her head dropping lower onto her bent arm. "You can talk to me, but if you're not ready…"

The palm of his left hand ran down his faced and settled on his chin as he looked outward at the window of her living room. She had yet to turn on a lamp, leaving it dimly lit as the sun disappeared beyond the tree line of the forest that bordered the north and west sides of town. One could get lost for days in the thick labyrinth of foliage. "My brother was a naval captain," Killian said somewhat abruptly. "Even before he was old enough to join the Navy, he was always looking at or talking about boats. If he needed to think, he went to the docks. He was made for a life at sea."

Emma smiled at the fondness with which he spoke of this brother. "Is that where you get it?" she asked softly.

"I wanted to be just like him when I was a kid. I would even stuff his shoes so they fit my feet. I adored my brother. And everything I did was to make him proud. But my brother, Liam, was impossible to please and his praise all too fleeting. I found myself constantly putting forth great effort to gain his approval. On the rare occasions I earned it, it was marvelous."

For some reason, Emma found it easy to picture Killian as a young child. In her mind's eye, she could picture a shorter version of him, a mop of black hair tinged with rust, and the bluest eyes framed by dark lashes that most girls would kill to have for themselves. He had probably been a quiet child, eager to please and every observant. She had seen a photo of Killian's brother, noting a few similarities such as the cut on their jaws and the thickness of their eyebrows. However, Liam had been a bit taller with curly hair and lighter eyes. She could see how Liam probably became annoyed with his much younger brother tagging along with earnest devotion.

"He never let me forget that he was older and bigger," Killian said with a sad little laugh that barely sounded like his usual self. "But he would have adored you, lass. He would have told me that falling in love with you was the best decision I ever made."

"I wish I had known him," Emma responded, placing her hand over his right hand and lacing their fingers together. "I always wished I had a brother or a sister. I'm sure I would have been annoying."

"Not the word I'd use to describe you," he said, muscles unstiffening as her thumb took over what was usually his job. Small delicate circles were rubbed on his hand and he watched her meticulously continue the motion.

"So this…" she said, searching for the word. "This mood is about you missing your brother?"

Killian's head shook with slow twist. "I miss Liam every day of my life, love," he said. "I had far too little time with him. Even now I can't help but imagine calling him up to tell him some news or tidbit about my life. When I met you I ached to call him and tell him that his little brother had met such a beautiful and brilliant woman."

She smiled, leaning forward a bit so that her chin rested at the tip of his shoulder. "Did something happen?"

"Tink's rescue mission for those orphans," he said as though that somehow explained everything. "She has asked me to captain the ship there and back. It's an honor, but I…"

Realization dawned on the blonde woman as his eyes lit at the mere mention of the job. "Do you want to do it?" she asked, carefully watching his facial expression.

"I want to stay here with you," he said, closing his fingers between hers and squeezing her hand. "I don't want to be that far from you…"

"But if it is something you want to do…" She paused, leaning her cheek where she had been nuzzling. "I will be here when you get back. It's not like we would be apart that long." She watched his expression fall even more. "I'd miss you, but think about the great welcome back sex. It might be a good thing."

She expected him to smile or at least give her that feral look before he would dive in and kiss her. The last thing she expected was a sad expression that seemed much more upset with the idea of leaving her. She repeated his name twice before he finally looked toward her. "My brother joined the Navy the first moment that he could. That was my plan too…following him like always." His free hand felt the familiar tug as his fingers scratched behind his ear. "He would have jumped at this chance. He would have…He would have been a great asset to Tink and her team."

Emma tried to picture herself home for weeks without him, not receiving those frequent texts and those little surprise visits. She had even thought recently that perhaps they should move in together, but now this seemed premature and silly. "So would you," she said. "I would miss you, but if you want to go…" She swallowed again, looking at their entwined hands. "I'm used to it. Being alone I mean. And it's temporary."

"I told her no," Killian said, looking at the same sight. "I don't want to do this without you."

She wanted to hear those words, wanted to believe them and believe in the hope they held. But one look at him said he was miserable with the thought that he was giving up his one chance at adventure and a meaningful existence. And while it was possible that opportunity might strike again, she hated that the reason for his denial and hesitation was her. So maybe that was why she took that deep breath and said in as steady of a voice as she could muster, "I want you to go."

Thoughts?