Thank you for all the favorites, follows, kudos, and comments. I'm glad you are enjoying this. I won't keep you in suspense over Captain Swan meeting, as that does happen in this chapter. You'll get to see a little more Liam next chapter, including some of his motivation and background.

Some days were longer than others, Killian decided as he checked his mail slot in the teacher's lounge. It was nothing more than a few forms, advertisements sent generically through the mail, and a flyer about a rummage sale that one of the clubs was hosting soon. A few of the other teachers were in there, paying more attention to their phones than the live human beings around him. He'd already had lunch so there was no need in getting anything from the vending machines and the thought of directing a conversation seemed a bit much. His decision was made when Mr. Gold entered the room with his eye on each of them.

After greeting the head master of the school with his usual formal curtness, Killian headed down the hall toward his classroom with his bag tossed over his shoulder. If he shaved off the stubble on his face, he could have passed for one of the students in the upper school. As his brother always told him, he had that baby face that seemed to never age despite the years and experience.

"Mr. Jones?" the school's librarian, Belle Gold called out to him. "Mr. Jones, do you have a moment."

Killian sighed, shifting the weight of his bag a bit as he turned to face the dark haired beauty. Belle was certainly a dedicated educator who loved her students, but she was also the wife of the head master. Talking to her meant censoring his thoughts, as he never quite trusted her not to tell all to the man calling the shots around the school. "How can I help you?"

"I was going through the paperwork for the honors program and noticed that you haven't completed your recommendations yet. I know you're busy, but these students really do really want to know the results. And you…I realize that you only have the one…"

"I'll get to it by the end of today," Killian said. "I have them printed out already."

***AAA***

"I'm just not seeing any of these as a song that can carry a whole project," Emma said into the speaker phone. Thankfully Elsa and Anna could not see her at that moment with her legs crossed under her and two cartons of Chinese on her desk thanks to her new boycott on Granny's. "They are too generic. Maybe we should look at the catalog again."

She knew she was in for a fight when she suggested going to the catalog, as both women detested singing covers and wanted to write their own material. However, none of the ladies' songs rang true enough to suit the powers that be.

"I have been working on a little something," Anna said in that overly chipper way she had. "It's about finding love again after a break up."

The younger sister sang a few verses of what Emma worried would fall in the category of country – way against her marketing ideas for the duo. Glancing at the clock, she frowned. "I hate to cut this short, but I do need to run. I've got to go get Henry. How about you send me a file and I'll take a listen. But trust me. You don't want to ruin this. You only get one chance to show yourselves to the world here. Let's pick songs that will work."

Anna must have taken that a bit personally, hanging up the phone before her sister. "Don't mind her," Elsa said in that calmer voice she always took. "Anna's just feeling the pressure what with all the rejection over her song ideas."

"She shouldn't take that so personally," Emma challenged, knowing she'd probably be the same way. "I get that she wants to do her own stuff, but she's…well…young. You can hear it in her writing. She needs more experience, more heartbreak. Whatever she went through with Hans was bad, but it was rather brief. People want to relate to music and her stories aren't that common." She could imagine Elsa nodding on the other end of the phone, her icy expression melting a bit as she thought of her sister's broken heart.

"It is a strange business wanting her to have more experience with that sort of thing. I try to protect her from stuff like that. She's dating Kris now, but…it doesn't seem to offer much fodder for tear-jerking ballads. They are more in the cute stage. Holding hands. Stuff like that." Elsa's tone indicated that she found that a bit distasteful but didn't want to risk offending her sister should she be overheard. "I'm thinking that's more pop tune that you could dance around your bedroom to with the hairbrush as a microphone."

Choosing her words carefully, Emma pinched the bridge of her nose with her finger and thumb. "Not really duet material. When it comes to the album, you don't have to do all catalog stuff, but for now…"

"It's just a demo to get us out there and see if we're ready," Elsa finished. "I get it." She didn't add in that her own dating life offered even less material, having avoided that particular social scene as much as possible. Emma wondered if the woman might just be nursing a shattered heart and ego of her own, but settled on the excuse that Elsa was incredibly picky and preferred hiding behind her introverted demeanor rather than spend time out with someone she didn't like. It wasn't like Emma couldn't relate to the concept.

"I guess you've gotten the call from Granny," Emma said, treading lightly. She was relieved to hear the other woman laugh in response.

"Of course. Granny called to quiz me on everything from my shoe size to where I want to go on my honeymoon. I think she might be getting ahead of herself." She chuckled again. "I don't think it has occurred to her that I would say no or whatever..." There was a hesitancy in her words that Emma didn't realize at first.

"Nobody says no to Granny, but I think we should band together and do it. We should say no to dating these guys, no matter who they turn out to be. Are you with me?" Emma felt a bit fierce and almost militant as she suggested a mutiny against the older woman. She was already imagining herself in armor and carrying a sword when she heard Elsa clear her throat nervously. She crashed back to earth.

"Well," Elsa said with a slight hitch in her voice. "You know, she's right. I haven't dated in so long that people might assume I'm a bit frigid. Don't laugh. You've thought it too. I don't exactly do warm and fuzzy well. And…well, I guess I could use a little experience too. For writing songs and all."

"So you're doing this dating thing as an experience?" Emma asked incredulously. If there was anyone she had thought would be on her side in all this, it was Elsa. "You are going to go out with some guy that Granny selected because you think it is going to help you write a better song. Elsa, come on. The catalog isn't that bad. We'll find you something."

***AAA***

"Why are there so many chairs?" Roland asked innocently as he moved from one to the other, swinging his short legs wildly at each pause. "Do you have a lot of children, Uncle Killian?"

Normally Roland went to an afterschool program while his father worked, but for some reason Robin had begged his friend to take on the child for free. He claimed he was going to be too late to pick him up, as he and Liam were headed off to talk to some bar owner about an open mic night that was coming up soon. After a few jokes that they weren't in college any longer, Killian had promised to watch the boy and even provide dinner.

The kindergartener was hardly big enough to get into the chairs without acrobatics, but Killian appreciated the efforts that the boy went through with seemingly no trouble at all. He was also thankful that he was Uncle Killian rather than Killy – the name that the boy had called him for the last two years with gleeful giggles. His friend Will had found that particular name hilarious and taken to calling the music teacher Killy McStabby with a fake Scottish accent. "I have many students," Killian corrected gently.

The boy seemed to be turning this information over in his mind, confused by his father's friend and occupation. Dark hair and chocolate eyes, the boy looked more like his mother than father, but there was certainly evidence of Robin's influence. From the way the boy held his head to the side and implored his questions with a friendly yet determined tone to the way that he assessed everything that anyone said with an air of cynicism behind a humorous demeanor, Roland had some of his father's best traits.

"I thought," Roland said, tapping a finger against his cheek, "that teachers live at school. You don't. You have a house. I've been there."

Killian chortled at the child's reasoning, which was not all that different than most of his younger students. "Aye, I do have my own place. I'm lucky."

Roland accepted this truth tentatively and began his questioning again in earnest. He wanted to know about each of the instruments in the classroom and each of the posters on the wall. Carrying books off the shelves, he would bring them to Killian and plead with him to read to him.

"These aren't exactly reading books or story books, lad," Killian explained on the fourth try from his ardent young friend. "They are music books. See, look here." He flipped open the one the boy was holding and pointed. "These are notes not words. You play them with the instruments over there to tell your own kind of story. It's like magic."

Vaguely interested, Roland followed the man's gaze toward the shining brass and woodwind instruments along the far wall. "You could teach me?"

"I'm afraid we don't have enough time for that today, lad. I'm about to teach a group of students and then give a private lesson. After that we'll be meeting that papa of yours at Granny's for dinner. Perhaps later." He saw the disappointed look cross the boy's small features and then suddenly a smile.

"I have a book," he said, scrambling away from his babysitter toward his Peter Pan inspired backpack. Pulling out two construction paper creations, an assignment sheet with stars, and a math worksheet, he finally unearthed the paperback story of a dog on the loose in the local mall. He held it up as if he had just discovered buried treasure. "See!"

"Brilliant choice," Killian said, reminding himself that Robin should at least bring entertainment items if he was going to foist his child off on people. "Let's see that."

***AAA***

Emma managed to make it to the Storybrooke Academy with 15 minutes to spare that afternoon, though she was already practicing her excuse for being late. She realized she did not even know where Mr. Jones had his classroom, but she was sure that someone could point her in the right direction after she parked her small yellow car in the first of the visitor spots and took the stairs as fast as she could in her heels. Luckily she didn't run into Henry's teacher and her friend Mary Margaret Blanchard. The woman, who gave new meaning to sweet as candy, was notorious for wanting to chat Emma up for information about the latest bands.

"You're slurring your notes there, Henry," she heard the teacher saying from the door that was propped open just down from her. Smiling to herself in triumph of finding her son, she rushed in that direction.

She didn't know much about the young teacher who was currently on Henry's list of heroes and possibly on Granny's radar for dating, but she had to admit he wasn't bad to look at. Dark messy hair and blue eyes were evident even from her spot in the hallway. His clothing was more casual than most of the teachers she had met at the school, but that seemed to add a bit to his charm, as did his accent that Ruby had been right about.

Looking in the classroom, she saw her son there in the first seat of what appeared to be a semicircle. Posters on the wall detailed the instruments of an orchestra, jazz band, and marching band with detailed diagrams of each. There were charts where students' behavior and schedules were organized, along with a few notices for different groups and clubs. Mr. Jones was seated in the chair next to her son, nodding in time with the beat he was keeping with his foot. "Much more staccato," he instructed. "Let me hear each note."

Her son's hair fell across his forehead, hiding the furrowed brow of concentration as he tried to make each note resonate. She did not recognize the tune, but that did not mean much. She had not ever really studied music, preferring popular tunes much more than classical. Her career in music was not even that reliant on her knowing the difference and names of each note. Instead, she was lauded for her ability to find talent in its rawest form. As her friends said, she really was good at finding people.

She had to admit that Mr. Jones was much more attractive in person than he had been in the gray and small yearbook photo that she didn't want to admit she had snuck a look at earlier. He had an easy smile that seemed natural and not forced, a defined jaw that she could see was one of his most telltale features to display his emotions. His right hand was splayed out on his thigh, his fingers long and reminding her of some of the piano and guitar players that she had met in her business. She didn't want to admit it to Granny, but she wasn't totally opposed to having a drink with him. The one thing holding her back was his role as her son's teacher. She'd seen the way the other single moms flocked to any male teacher. There had been an actual line outside one of the classrooms with women who usually wore sweats and no makeup to drop of their children now decked out as if going to a club. Emma was proud to say she had taken no part in that.

Henry reached the end of the page and lowered the mouthpiece from his lips, a bit out of breath. Smiling proudly at the light praise of his teacher, it took a moment before he acknowledged her arrival. Even then, he was seeking out more confirmation. "Did you hear me?" he asked. "That was the best run through yet."

"Sounded great," she assured him, nodding to the jacket, backpack, and instrument case strewn on the otherwise unnaturally clean floor. "Get your stuff. Your dad's waiting. And be sure to thank…" She needn't have worried about him thanking Mr. Jones. The kid was already high fiving with his instructor and packing up his stuff as the teacher stood to greet the parent in his classroom. She had been right in that the teacher was tall and lean, standing on long sinewy legs. The first words that came to her head were devilishly handsome, which was odd considering the location of their meeting.

"Thank you for allowing this," Killian said, reaching out his hand to shake hers. His grip was strong and lingered as if protecting her during the contact. "He's got quite a bit of talent. I'm sure that with the proper practice he'll be brilliant." For a moment he studied her intently, which only made her take a step back and look away.

"Thank you for taking an interest," she said, her eyes landing on the small boy laid out across three of the chairs that had been pushed together in a corner. "I take it your…he's not a fan?"

Tilting his brow, he looked at her uncertainly, but then realized she meant Roland. "I'm afraid he's a bit tired out. Luckily he can sleep through anything, including a concert by middle schoolers." The unmistakable affection in his expression and voice was almost fatherly as he glanced at Roland sleeping under a blanket of his leather jacket. And at that Emma felt her stomach clench at the sight of such a display, quickly shaking it off when he spoke again. "Your son says you are in the music business."

Emma nodded, struck by the miniature version of Killian with the similar dark hair that flopped over his eyes from that position. "Yes, Mr. Jones, I'm a scout."

"Killian, please. Aye, that's what he had said. Seems he is quite a fan of your work. Can't say I ever thought that a town of this size would have its own production company." He rocked back on his heels, grinning. "Perhaps we could arrange for a tour as a field trip. I'm sure the students would enjoy that."

Emma's next words were drowned out by the chirping of her cell phone, holding up a hand to Killian and gesturing with her eyes for her son to gather his belongings so they could leave. "No, I did not schedule them both for the same time. I'm not an idiot, Regina. I can manage this just fine."

***AAA***

"We'll be there in a short bit," Robin said to Killian as he navigated along the roadway with Liam checking his own phone in the passenger seat. "I trust there have been no issues."

"None at all," Killian assured him, balancing the phone on his shoulder as he attempted to lock the door to his classroom. "I'm taking him to dinner now and we'll wait for you there."

As Killian carried his bag of paperwork, laptop case and held Roland's hand, he still balanced the phone to his ear and made it to his jeep. Robin was going on and on about the place they had seen and the owner's interest in their music.

"It'll be fantastic," he insisted with an enthusiastic agreement from Liam in the background.

"I'm thrilled for you," Killian said, begging off on further details so that he might buckle his young charge in and get them to the diner safely. He had no sooner put the vehicle into reverse when Roland piped up.

"Who was the lady you were talking to?"

Killian could have deflected by mentioning that he thought Roland was asleep or acting like he didn't know who the kid was talking about, but he went for an honest approach. "She's Henry's mother," Killian explained, shifting into the right gear and leaving the parking lot.

"She's pretty," Roland continued, oblivious to the thoughts of his driver.

That she was, Killian thought. He'd met hundreds of parents in his career, including quite a few single mothers. Once they found out he was single they usually found excuses to talk to him, stopping in unannounced with some question about their children or some request for extra tutoring. Emma had not done that, not even when he had volunteered to work with Henry.

She had walked into the room with an effortless style that he quite admired, if he was being completely honest. She was dressed for work in her dark skirt and white button down blouse. Her legs were long and shapely, added to by the heels she wore. Her long hair was the color of gold and had obviously escaped from some more restrictive style with fresh waves that would have been perfect for a day on the beach. Even in the few minutes they had spoken, he had watched with interest her dark lashes that framed her eyes and the slight indention of her chin.

"I'm going to get a big burger," Roland announced, interrupting his sitter. Killian was sure it wasn't the first time he had said it.

"You must be hungry."

"I am," the boy said emphatically. All talk of the woman was gone as Roland began to wonder what all he could put on the burger. By the time they arrived at the diner both were laughing at the idea of elephants on a burger or perhaps candy bars.

***AAA***

Granny's was crowded that evening when Emma slid onto the stool and leaned forward to catch the server's attention. Ruby was already off for the day and Henry had bounded toward Neal's table with a shrugging excuse that he rarely got to see his father anyway. She realized that she was breaking her own rule that she was never going to speak to the woman again, but the thought of a grilled cheese with that extra butter that Granny used was too good to pass up at that moment.

"So I hear you met Mr. Jones," Ruby said, startling her friend. Gone was Ruby's white shirt and red skirt in favor of a black dress with a wide red belt and a pair of heels that should have given her altitude sickness. "Isn't he a hottie?"

"I barely said two words to him when I picked up Henry," Emma said dodging the question. "He's okay, I guess."

Ruby was used to her friend's nonchalance when it came to men. On their weekly girls' movie or drinks nights, Ruby, Mary Margaret, and Ashley all swooned over the latest action stars or romantic leads. Emma searched for popcorn or more alcohol. On occasion she would throw them a bone with a comment about some guy's butt or the way he filled out a tight shirt. She even managed to stand in line at a meet and greet to get an autograph from some television star that they all liked. But Emma was not the fantasy type and certainly drew the line at factoring real men into her imagination. "In Emma speak that means he's a 10 out of 10, maybe an 11. Definitely better than Granny's other pick for you."

Emma practically spit her soda on the counter, which earned her a dirty look from the frazzled server who was standing nearby to take an order. "Walsh? Your grandmother set me up on a date with my boss's sister's boyfriend. It was practically career suicide for me to go."

The grin on Ruby's bright red lips widened as she relived that particular memory in her head. "It was amazing that you did that," she said in a loud whisper. "I still wish I could have seen her face."

Blinking, Emma let out a puff of air before taking another sip through her straw. "Of course you do. You don't turn away from road kill either. I have a bit more squeamish of a stomach, especially in the case of livelihood. Zelena went ballistic and Regina sent me to Singapore for three weeks on some scouting mission just to get me out of there. It was the last nice thing that woman has ever done by the way."

Ruby gleefully crossed her legs as if settling in for the story. "He wasn't half as hot as this Jones guy is. Come on. I'll do the research and make sure he's not dating anyone. We can even get David to run a background check on him. Make sure he doesn't have a past or something."

"He's a teacher. Don't they usually have to go through background checks?" She shook her head. "What am I saying? I'm not going through with this. If your grandmother wants to set him up with someone, fine, but it's not me. I'm not dating material. I am a mom. I have a job. I have…"

"Emma, he's a teacher not a pirate. He's not going to want a party girl. Just have dinner with him. Granny will insist on at least that. Then see what happens." Patience was hardly one of Ruby's strongest characteristics and it was showing as she tapped her foot irritably. "Granny always gets her way."

It wasn't that Emma wanted to be alone, she told herself. She dated on occasion, but she was not big on it. Between raising her son and a job that did not introduce her to men with the most mature character, she had fewer options than some of her friends. You could say that about anyone though, she added bitterly. Mary Margaret was a teacher in a school that's faculty was 90% female. Ruby's love of fashion meant she met more gay men than straight. While beautiful and mysterious, Elsa was often outshined by her younger sister who men were naturally attracted to for her hilarity and enthusiasm. Was she really that odd in her life circumstances?

"He has a son, I think," Emma said after Ruby had waved to half the crowded restaurant like she was the queen of the town. "A little boy."

"See," Ruby answered, pushing two fingers into Emma's shoulder. "More things in common. I'm liking it."

"What is it you're liking?" Ruby's grandmother asked, placing a plate in front of Emma and wiping her hands on the apron she wore over her more conservative outfit. "And why are you dressed like that? You look like a harlot."

Ruby rolled her eyes to indicate that she was so tired of the conversation already. "I was telling Emma that I like this idea of pairing her up with Mr. Jones. I think it will be a good match for once in your life."

The woman looked over her glasses at Emma with a little bit of surprise. "You're going to go along with this? Is Ruby paying you? Did you lose a bet?" She grumbled a bit as she pulled bottles out from under the counter and checked their fullness level. "You didn't do too well last time I set you up."

"I haven't said yes," Emma protested. "I was just commenting that I noticed that he had a son. Ruby jumped in with the comments."

Rolling her lips into a tight line, the proprietress made a humming noise. "Now I didn't know about that. There are two of them, being brothers and all. Maybe the one has…No, I'm certain."

"Well, he had a son with him today," Emma said firmly. "I saw him myself."

"And that bothers you?" the woman asked, studying the blonde woman's face. "You think that means he's going to want a commitment or something don't you? Looking for a mother for his child? There are women in this town who line up for a guy who is sensitive and fatherly."

Emma pretended to be quite interested in her sandwich, using her knife to cut it and then pulling it apart carefully before taking a bite. "It's not the kid," she finally admitted when Granny had not budged and neither had Ruby. "He's Henry's teacher. That's just kind of awkward."

Ruby wagged her head. "That does make it awkward. Granny, didn't you say there are two of them. Maybe the brother is more your speed."

"This isn't like ordering takeout. You can't trade one in for the other." Granny switched her scornful and judgmental gaze to Ruby. "And you still haven't explained the getup. Where are you going?"

"I have a date," Ruby declared, shimmying her shoulders as bit to show off the low neckline of her dress. "And we're not talking about my sex life. We're talking about Emma's." She raised her chin and coolly stared at the door. "And he's coming in right now so I suggest that we…"

Granny straightened up and dashed over to greet Killian and Roland as they walked inside. While she could be judgmental and argumentative, she loved children and often made a special effort to welcome children into her establishment. She was bent down taking care of his order before Killian had even managed to sit down.

"Okay, I take it back. Don't go for the brother. Go for him. If it goes south, transfer Henry to another school. This guy is worth the risk."

"That's a bit drastic," Emma said, not bothering with another denial. "And who do you have a date with? I thought you were giving up on that doctor guy after you found those text messages."

"Graham," Ruby announced with little fanfare. "No biggie. Just drinks at the Rabbit Hole."

A mix of awe and confusion was evident on Emma's face as she watched her friend run a hand through her thick dark hair. "It's a Wednesday. Who dates on a Wednesday?"

"Friday and Saturday is for amateurs." Tapping a red painted nail on her bottom lip, Ruby studied the teacher sitting a few seats away from them. "Okay, so I'm thinking you should ask him out. It will make it easier and that way you don't have to get Granny to try to fix you up."

For the second time Emma almost choked on her drink. "I'm not asking him out, Ruby. I haven't even agreed…"

"If you weren't interested, we wouldn't have just spent all this time talking about it. Walk over there and say something to him. Come on. Your sandwich and onion rings are cold anyway and Henry's going to want to go home soon. March." Using more of her fingers this time, she pushed her friend's shoulder again. "Or I could pass him a note. He's a teacher. He's probably familiar with that technique."

"I have to work this weekend," Emma said, cringing as she realized she was entertaining the idea of inviting him out some place. "It wouldn't work."

"Your job is going to clubs and bars to listen to bands play. Invite him along."

Emma wished that she had ordered a beer rather than a soda with dinner. Maybe that would have been the excuse why she actually stood up from the stool and with a wink from Ruby was walking to his table. She could have passed it and went to talk with Henry and Neal if they hadn't been sitting in the opposite direction. But she was putting one foot in front of the other and the distance that had seemed so long was down to nothing before she knew it.

"Ms. Swan," he said, raising his head up from looking at the picture that Roland was coloring while waiting on their order. "I hadn't realized that you were headed here when you left in such a hurry."

Feeling frozen in the path of the servers, she willed herself to smile or at least acknowledge his greeting. "Emma," she said without another accompaniment.

"Pardon?"

"My name," she said, feeling a bit silly as he stared worriedly at her. "My name is Emma. Instead of Ms. Swan."

"Emma," he repeated. "Well, Emma, it is a pleasure to see you again. Is Henry here with you?" His bright blue eyes darted around the room in search of his student and finally found him in the booth closest to the back hallway.

"I was wanting to talk to you about…Well, this Friday I have to do a work thing. I'm going to Boston to hear this band. I was thinking that maybe you…" She could feel her cheeks warming as the words tumbled out without much grace. Legs locked, she felt herself begin to sway as she nervously wondered if he noticed it too. He did, as his hand reached out to grasp her wrist in a way that felt almost medicinal rather than friendly.

"That's quite a drive," Killian interjected when her words failed her and she was swallowing. "I imagine you'll be leaving early in the evening." His teeth were bright white as he smiled, almost sparkling like a toothpaste commercial.

"Well, not too early, but yes it takes a while," she said. Did his interest in when she was leaving mean that he wanted to go along? Or was he building up to an excuse. Emma did not look back toward Ruby who was probably flashing a thumbs up or something else at that point.

"I'd be happy to help," Killian answered with a nod. "I can drive Henry to his father's or someplace else. Not a problem at all."

To be continued…