A/N: Oh, guys! I totally agree with you! That's why this was supposed to be a one-shot. Now, I'm trying perform this delicate dance between Emma and Killian's feelings while still being morally cognizant of what's right and wrong. Have no fear! I have faith that I can handle it. So enjoy this baby bit, and I should have more in another short frame of time...

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"Am I supposed to hold it like this?"

Emma's question sounded innocent enough. The way she looked up at him with big wondering green eyes looked innocent as well. It was the awkward way she held the bar in her hands- wrist loose and hands turned outward- that suggested her innocence was a ploy.

Killian only spared her the smallest of smiles.

"No, not like that."

Her frown was slight as she looked back at the bar.

"Then come show me how to hold it correctly."

Killian's eyes went on a search for Neal. He was only two machines away from them. It was one of those rare occasions where he seemed focused and intent on his workout.

"Killian?"

He looked back at her as he slowly made his way towards her.

He was sure she knew what was on his mind. Emma was trying to play coy. She was trying to get his mind off of his guilt. But asking him to lean up into her back and shadow the correct motions of how to do the exercise wasn't exactly the best idea.

"Like this, Emma," he murmured close to her ear.

Her hair was up in a topknot, but a few strands had slipped away as they always did when she was in the process of a good workout. He was so close to her, his arms shadowing her own until he touched her.

Soft and glistening skin. He mentally shook his head, stopping any thoughts from what else other than a gym workout could leave her in the same predicament.

"Like this?"

He also ignored- to the best of his abilities- the feel of her bottom pressed closely against him.

Killian adjusted the angle of her wrists slowly and carefully.

"Just like this, love."

And he ignored the way her body seemed to quiver at his words.

"Okay," she whispered. "I got it."

He met her eyes in the mirror in front of them as he stepped away. They were dark and held a mystery, those green eyes. Killian stepped back, moving away from her.

He watched for just a moment as she raised the bar to her chest slowly. There was a fair amount of what that she was lifting. She was strong. Her strength was one of her greatest attributes. He loved watching her.

But he turned to look back at Neal.

Damn.

It could have been worse. The betrayal could have been a lot greater than it was. But the fact that Killian had feelings for Neal's girlfriend- and she returned those feelings- didn't bode well for him. They had been friends for nearly a decade. Neither one of them had known Emma for more than a quarter of that time. And yet he had let his feelings for her get the better of him. It hadn't been a "to hell with it"moment, but it might as well had been.

They were in the wrong. He was in the wrong. But…

Killian turned his attention back to Emma.

Like he had told her: she had opened Pandora's Box, and that box was filled with his feelings for her that had come flooding out. He loved her. The circumstances were not ideal, but… he loved her.

"Killian?"

He watched with surprise as he lowered the bar down to the floor in front of her feet.

"You cut that short," he pointed out to her. "You'll have to make that up."

She turned around to face him.

"I just need a minute." And she was walking back towards him, closing the small gap that was between them.

Killian's eyes swept over to Neal's quickly. It was only for a second, his conscience getting the better of him.

"I want to tell him."

He turned back to see Emma staring plainly at him. Her face held little expression as her eyes locked on his.

"You want to tell Neal?" His eyes narrowed on her. "Are… you sure?"

There would be a hell of a lot of consequences for all of them if she told him. They would both lose Neal. There was almost no doubt about it.

Ten years… It made his heart constrict, that painful thought.

"I'm sure." Emma moved closer to him until their bodies were mere inches from each other. It was then that het voiced lowered.

"I know this has been a difficult week on you. It's been difficult for me, too. Being home with him. Acting as if everything is still the same. When it's not."

She was too close. Too close for him to not want to hold in his arms. Killian couldn't do that. Not here. Not with Neal right there.

"Emma," he whispered achingly. "You're too close."

It made her smile. It was a teasing smile. And it just wasn't fair.

"Oh, my consummate good guy," she said in a sing-song voice, her eyes lighting up. "And you're never going to do more than kiss me until everything comes out in the open anyway."

Was she right? Well, it was probably one of his goals: do not cause Neal any extra pain that could be considered avoidable. Because loving Emma was unavoidable.

Emma didn't move away. She stayed right there, her glistening eyes gazing up at him.

"There's something that you don't seem to get, Killian," she whispered.

It made him nervous. The strength behind that gaze and those firm words.

"And what is that, Emma?" And he waited, not hoping or wishing too hard for something right to come out of her mouth.

"I don't need a romance on the side. I don't want the stable and mock happy home with Neal and then the sneaky and adventurous affair with you on the side. I. Want. You. Killian." She nodded vigorously. "I'd leave Neal. For you."

His hand was quick and sudden as it wrapped around her wrist. His eyes slanted over to his friend.

"You don't mean that."

"I do," Emma pleaded. "Why don't you believe me?"

He looked back at her. He found sadness and a hurt found in her eyes as she watched him.

"I…" Killian's eyes closed and he took in a deep breath.

"Do you want me to stay with Neal?" she asked, a hint of confusion in her voice. "When you know that I love you?"

"Two years is a long time, Emma," he reminded her. "Do you really want to give that up… for me?"

"I love you, Killian."

"You love Neal."

Emma frowned deeply, her eyebrows knitting together fiercely.

"Is that going to be your response every time I tell you that I love you?"

I love you, Emma.

"No," Killian muttered softly.

A soft expression appeared on her face. And maybe she knew the words that he had yet to vocalize to her already. Maybe she knew that he loved her so much that it hurt to even think about.

She took a step away from him, her smile a permanent fixture of her face.

"Don't you want to do more than kiss me, Killian?" she asked him quietly and oh so very innocently.

Her naked skin laying against his cool bed sheets and caressing his own skin.

"Yes, Emma." A bit strangled, but there was never a truer answer to a question.

"Is that even a possibility when I'm still with Neal, you damned Boy Scout?" There was a hint of annoyance in that question.

Neal doesn't deserve this.

"No, Emma."

She looked up at him with more sadness. "Then I need to tell him, Killian. To end things."

Killian gave a stiff nod. "I know."

There was a silent moment shared between them. Things were going to change. All because of pent up feelings and emotions. If- when- she told Neal, nothing would ever be the same.

"I'm sorry… about your friendship," Emma told him softly as she moved away from him.

"I'm sorry, too." But you're worth it.

Maybe he should have said the words. Maybe it would have been good for Emma to hear.

But… he didn't. Not yet.

She offered him a smile just before she turned around. She had walked back to the bar and was going to begin her workout again.

Killian watched her in awe. Why wasn't it more difficult for her? Why was it so easy to say she'd leave Neal? Why, when it bothered him so deeply, did it not affect her?

He turned to look at Neal then.

Their friendship was almost over, he knew that. And it was all his fault.

Neal would never understand. He would only see it as a backstabbing. And for all intents and purposes… it was a backstabbing.

Killian's fingers came up to swipe over his chin, lost in deep thought and anguish. Everything that was happening- everything that Emma doing and everything that he was doing- was bundled up in a convoluted and messy situation. But…

He turned to look at her. He watched as she set lifted that bar with a stark concentration and watched as she did so perfectly…

It was messy, but it was worth it.

"So are we ever going to see Ariel again, Killian?" Neal raised an eyebrow at him. "Or are you going to tell me that Emma ran her off?"

It made him uncomfortable. There was a sudden heaviness that lay in his chest at that question.

"I…" Killian looked over at Neal. "Things didn't get that far." He fell down on the bench while throwing his towel over his head.

The locker room seemed to be stifling, but it was probably just him. He hadn't been alone with Neal since before Emma had come to his apartment. Before things had changed between them.

The thought of that first kissed loomed in his mind. Her fingers tightened at his waist and creeping up. Her lips soft and mouth completely pliable. The way she moved closer to him…

"Well at least tell me it wasn't Emma who messed this up for you."

Killian smiled to himself. If Neal had only known.

"Emma referring to Ariel as a mouse had nothing to do with it."

He heard Neal's chuckle from under his towel.

"I didn't know about that nickname."

A strong hand fell over the top of Killian's head, and it shook.

"I'm sure she wasn't a mouse. Ariel was just a sweet girl. But maybe even a little too sweet for you. Emma's probably right about that one."

The feel of Neal's hand over his head brought thoughts of an impending punch. He would punch the hell out of Killian. And Killian would let it happen. He would probably even let him get in a few good punches. He saw a black eye in his future. And a busted lip. Maybe a bruised cheek.

He pressed his towel hard over his face. They had never come to physical blows. Their friendship had been solid the entire time. And although Killian knew he was stronger and more powerful than his best friend, he knew that he wouldn't lay a finger on him when the time came. He would take it like the man he was.

"Hey."

Killian felt the give of the bench as Neal sat down beside him.

"Yeah?"

"You've been around her lately. Have you noticed any changes?"

He frowned under his towel. "Ariel?"

"Ariel?" He heard the frown in his voice. "Emma, of course."

What was he about to ask him? Killian didn't know, but there was a sudden quickening of his heart.

"I don't know what it is," Neal muttered, sounding distant. "She's just been…I don't know… a little strange lately. Have you noticed?"

Killian pulled the towel away from his face. The look on Neal's face was innocent and free of any knowledge of the truth

"I…"

He didn't have an answer. It was one thing to lie by omission. It weighed on his heart heavily. But it was something else altogether different to outright lie.

"It's probably just my imagination, huh?" Neal stood up. "I feel kind of bad, you know? I work a lot." He shrugged easily enough. "Emma works a lot, too, but I put in all those extra hours. Sometimes I wonder if it's too much." A sudden grin lit up his face. "I just wonder if it's been bothering her more lately."

"I…"

She said that she was going to tell him. Here was Neal in front of him, wondering what the change was in Emma and if it was his fault. And there was Killian, as silent as ever on the subject.

"Well, thanks for the input, man," he said. The sarcasm was dripping.

"Sorry." Killian looked up at him warily.

Emma wanted to tell him, but he still didn't get the feeling that she was as torn by the whole damned situation as he was. He had kissed her. He had ran his fingers through that mass of blonde hair, and it had felt better than he had even imagined. Her mouth was always giving, her kisses leaving him with no doubt about how she felt about him. It left no doubt about how she had wanted more than just those kisses.

There was very little exploration of new skin. He never let his fingers travel pass over an imaginary line that he had set for himself.

He wished that Emma had a more defined line. He wished that she didn't feel the need to tease him and test those boundaries with little experiments of how he'd react. Because it only made him want her more. It only made him want to live out those suppressed dreams and desires…

She said she was going to tell Neal.

"Listen, man." A firm clap on his shoulder. "It's Saturday and I have the day off. I'm ready to get out of here. Emma should be almost done herself. So I'm going to head out of here."

Neal was going to go home with Emma. Because, just as it had been for two years, that's how things were: Emma and Neal. Neal and Emma.

And if Emma came clean with him, then that would be over. Just like a lot of things.

"Okay." The towel was draped back over his head.

A hell of a situation. One that refuse to leave his mind for longer than just a moment.

"Killian?"

He heard the worry and confusion in Neal's voice.

Killian shot up from his seat. If Neal had asked him anything right now, he wouldn't know how to react. It made him wonder if Emma ever worried about them being alone. He wondered if it ever crossed her mind that it could have been him who felt the need to come clean.

It was a possibility. The guilt was becoming overbearing. But… no. No, Killian wouldn't confess his indiscretions in that way.

"I have to jump in the shower before I leave," he murmured, moving away from Neal. "I'll see you later. We'll catch up later."

"Alright."

He didn't look back, but heard as Neal grabbed his bag and began to leave.

His hand went to stroke at his bearded chin, becoming completely caught up in his head. It was his thoughts. They were running him ragged.

He had begun something he didn't know how to control. He had let feelings cloud his judgment. He couldn't decide what was right and what was wrong. But, if he was right, then what he wanted was so wrong.

Emma.

One way or another, she would be the death of him.