I'm continually amazed by the response to this story. I apologize for any continuity errors in this since it was not originally written by me as Captain Swan/Frozen Jewel. I just couldn't stop picturing the four of them as I was writing this story and decided to edit it and see what people thought. This chapter is a bit more of Liam getting to know Emma and Henry working on Killian, but our couples will both be interacting a lot more in the next chapter.

I hope to have another chapter up in the morning, but it will probably be Sunday before the sixth chapter is up. This Friday is my father's birthday and I'm headed out to go see him. Since my parents' internet connection is just a step over dial up, I don't see me posting much from there.

Hope you enjoy this chapter.

The string of curse words leaving Emma's mouth was both entertaining and intriguing to Liam as he approached the stage. The softness in the woman's expression had been replaced with one of violent rage as she glared angrily at the phone in her hand. To be honest with himself, he was quite worried about introducing himself to her after her seemingly spontaneous melt down.

"If you're going to offer to buy me a drink or ask why I have refused one that you already bought, then I suggest moving along," she said through gritted teeth, not bothering to look at him. "I'm not in the mood for a drink or a man at the moment. The only thing I care to do is to punch the next jerk who tries to pick me up with some fruity cocktail or cheesy pick up line."

"Can't say that I was planning to offer either," he said. "I was just coming over to introduce myself. But if it going to earn me a punch in the nose, I'll be getting on my way. By the way, lass, I much appreciated your colorful language there and apologize for whoever was meant for the receiving end of it. Being a former sailor myself, I could probably introduce you to a few new ones to add to your vocabulary." He stood still for a moment, mentally preparing himself for retreat if necessary.

"I guess I was a little loud," she admitted, her tone relaxing. "And I apologize for assuming that…"

"You're Emma, aye?" he asked, shoving a large hand out in her direction. "I believe we are both residents of Storybrooke."

She offered her own hand hesitantly, her eyes finally studying him a bit more carefully. "And you recognized me in this place. I am not sure if I'm creeped out or flattered. I think I'll keep my phone handy just in case."

The appreciative grunt he let out was followed by him pulling out a chair at one of the tables closest to the door to the kitchen area. "I was a bit surprised to recognize anyone so far from that town, but I suppose it was the universe playing a trick on me. What with Granny speaking so much about you and your son being in my brother's class."

Lips curling up, she laughed loudly. "You're Liam Jones?" she asked, catching on quickly. "I should have guessed with the accent and all."

"Aye, guilty," he said. "And I suppose the Widow Lucas must have seen to it that you know of me too."

"Well," Emma said, waving off one of the manager's assistants, "she has mentioned you and your brother a few times. Let's see, former officer in the British Navy, traveling about trying to find yourself, and have a history in the music industry. Did I get that all right?"

"Excellent memory, lass, which is quite impressive. If I was drinking tonight, I'd propose a toast to it." His grin was a bit more sarcastic than his brother's, but there was a kindness and sturdiness to his face that she couldn't help noticing. "And do you know the same of my brother?"

"Let's see," she said, twisting her lips to the side as though she was thinking on the topic hard. "He's also former navy, went to college in Connecticut after he moved to the US, teaches music at Storybrooke Academy, and is probably ready to kill me at this moment for ditching my son on him since Henry's father seems to have flaked on picking him up." She moved her phone in front of her to display the time. "And even if I leave right now, your brother is going to be stuck with my son until nearly midnight."

"I'm sure your worry about that is misplaced. If you like, I'll give him a call and smooth it over for you."

She let out a ragged sigh, her thumb hovering over the phone again. "No, that's quite alright. I'm not sure that I'm all that out of luck yet. I can call Granny or Mary Margaret to go retrieve him. It's not fair to your brother to have to do this after the…after everything."

Liam didn't miss her pause and obvious omission. "I suppose so, but please allow me to help if I can. I hate to see a damsel in distress."

She probably would have rolled her eyes at that or at least said something snarky about it. However, she didn't. Instead, she let her thumbs fly across the screen as she typed out messages to Granny and Mary Margaret. Even a text to Elsa came back with no response. She hoped that her face was not telling of her frustration as both answered almost immediately with negative responses to her request. "Damn it," she muttered, scrolling through her list. "Who can I…"

"You can be more original than that," Liam insisted. "Try a good old fashioned Bloody Hell or Bugger off." He tilted his head down to try to catch her eye, keeping up the stare until she laughed and shook her head.

"Okay so it's between your brother who probably has better things to do and Henry's grandfather who frankly scares me with what a bad influence he is. I'm not talking leaving the toilet seat up or processed foods bad. I'm thinking more along the lines of organized crime and I may lose my son to the Witness Protection Program."

"Say no more," Liam said, pulling out his own phone and loudly talking to his brother. To her surprise there seemed to be no argument coming from either end. Liam worked out the details with the concentration of a military man, keeping track of each of his logistical decisions by checking them off with a clicking sound he made with his mouth. Pushing the end call button firmly with his index finger, he shrugged. "No biggie. Killian's got Roland until I can get Robin's sorry arse home and probably later if the git can't sober up. Henry is not in diapers or demanding a bedtime story so I think it will make for an uneventful night for my brother. Between you and me, those seem to be all he has nowadays. He's sort of boring."

"I've been accused of that myself," Emma admitted. "I think it comes with the single parent thing. So tell me, Liam, since I think I confused Granny, Ruby, and myself over this little detail. That little boy with Killian. Is that his son? Because…"

"Oh no," Liam answered, thrusting his thumb in the direction of Robin at the bar. "That wee lad is Robin's offspring. My brother has no children of his own. We're probably a disappointment to our parents, as we aren't carrying on the family line. Though I suppose there are quite a few Joneses in this world for it not to make a difference."

She squinted at Robin who was sitting on the stool with his eyes heavy lidded, moving to and fro with the music. "I'd say he looks more like your brother than your friend there."

"Aye, the lad is lucky to have more of his mum's features than that bloke over there, but still he's a great kid. And Killian is merely Uncle Killian – Killy if you want to make him really mad."

***AAA***

"Well, it appears that we are making more of a night of this than I thought," Killian said, glancing down at the both of them as he threw his money on the table. "I'm not sure of the protocol here, but I figure we'll get this one to bed and you and I can have a go at the telly to see what's good."

Henry nodded, listening with half an ear to Roland explaining to the salt and pepper shakers that he'd be back. Granny had refused to allow him to carry them home, saying her customers had a right to liven up their food with his rockets. His eyes were already drooping and he yawned a few times on the short walk from Main Street to the waterfront where Henry was surprised to learn that Killian had a small house.

"It's pretty cool," he acknowledged when Roland was tucked away on a convertible chair in the office. "I bet you have a good view of the water."

"Aye," Killian said, kicking off his shoes into the corner of the larger great room. "It's one of the primary reasons I picked this place. There is nothing so soothing as staring out at the water after a hard day."

"We used to live in New York," Henry said as he backed away from the window. "One time my class took a field trip on one of those ferry boats. You know the type you can drive a car onto. I thought we'd sink with all those cars, but we didn't." He glanced around the living room area and noted that like his Mom Killian was a minimalist when it came to decorating. There was a framed photo of him and Liam and another that was more faded of the two boys when they were younger with their mom. A few books were mixed in with some DVDs and the room seemed to center around a stereo system and television that were not quite in agreement with the cottage's more rustic feel.

They had settled into some science fiction movie that Killian claimed he had seen more than 20 years before. "The bleeding special effects have gotten worse," he claimed, sending a text to Emma that she could retrieve Henry from there and providing his address. He'd told the boy that he would offer to allow him to spend the night so his mother wasn't rushing back to fetch him. However, Henry had refused quite adamantly.

"My mother would miss me too much," he said with the straightest face ever. "We see each other all the time." While Henry was certainly mature for his age, Killian was struck by how young he looked in that moment. He didn't argue, but simply said he would get in touch with Emma.

***AAA***

The band playing that night had potential. At least that is what Emma texted Regina along with some demographic information that would help make a decision. She wasn't sure if they stood out enough but she was willing to give her thoughts on the songs she had heard. That's what she got paid for after all. Typing the last of the email, Emma slipped from the crowded space and into the cool outdoors where she breathed in a respite from the stale air inside.

"It's a madhouse in there and that's not even the main act," Liam noted from behind her, making her jump. "You're not staying."

"I've taken advantage of your brother's kindness long enough. I'm going to head back, pick up Henry and spend the rest of the weekend listening to a few new tracks from a signed artist."

"All about the work," Liam said. "I was hoping to catch the next set myself, but Robin's a bit worse for the sight of it." Using his head and elbow he gestured to Killian's jeep where Robin lay sprawled across the backseat. His boots were propped up next to one window and the top of his head at the other. Emma was sure if she got closer she'd probably hear some moaning.

"You're not already on the road?" she asked, throwing the phone in her purse. "I think your friend would be grateful for a bed."

"Giving him a moment to pass out before I drive him back. He's a bit feisty when he's inebriated and tries to do some pretty inappropriate things while I'm behind the wheel." Liam looked up at the night sky, frowning at the lack of stars. "Can we give you a lift or at least let me walk you to your car? I should do at least that for the woman Granny says is my brother's perfect match." His eyes sparkled in the light of the street lamps and she could resist laughing at the earnest expression.

"I'm fine," she said, touching his arm gently. "It was nice to meet you tonight, Liam. Maybe we'll catch up back in Storybrooke."

She gave him a little wave and moved in the direction of the on the street parking just down the block. Instantly she regretted the decision of her outfit that was to Ruby's delight more about fashion than comfort. The brisk wind was blowing against her bare legs and the thinness of her jacket did nothing to ward off the cold. Keys in hand, she hurried her steps, imagining kicking off the high heels she had borrowed once she was safe back in her apartment. It was certainly a hot chocolate kind of night and she wondered if she might dare go through the drive thru at Starbucks to get one on her drive back. Her mind was turning that tasty treat over in her head when she stopped suddenly with a new string of curse words leaving her lips.

It was not a surprise to her that Liam had rushed to her side, his eyes scanning the area before them and his hands already clenched into fists to ward off whatever was ready to attack her. He admitted later that he knew she could handle herself, but he was always primed for a fight. He chalked it up to his naval days and special ops training that left him itching to use those skills.

"My car," she said with a dramatic move of her arm, "is blocked in." Sure enough, the front bumper of the small yellow vehicle was inches away from the rear of a laundry van. There was no vehicle behind her, only the jutted out corner of a stone flower display. She looked toward the closest lamp pole, scouring the signs that dictated parking hours among other rules and regulations. "And they don't have to move it for another six hours."

"There's a number on the van," Liam noted helpfully, "but, as you said, they are under no obligation." Twisting to face his brother's jeep, he smiled. "I suppose my offer of a drive home isn't that bad of one now?"

***AAA***

Killian was asleep before the end of the movie, his head thrown back awkwardly on the back of the couch and his arms crossed over his chest as his sock covered feet were splayed on the coffee table. Henry had not said anything about the musical note socks that decorated them, but he had made a mental note to tell his mother who had a similar pair that were her go to pair for days when she wore boots.

Being as quiet as he could, he lifted his phone – the one that was just supposed to be for emergencies and carpool updates – and snapped a photo of his caregiver. He texted it to Ruby first with a message that so far all was going according to plan and that he was still there with his teacher. Next he texted his mother and asked if it was ok if she picked him up there, using the excuse that he missed his bed and that Killian was quite busy with Roland.

His mother's reply was quick that she was on her way there now and should be back soon. He tried to avoid the question she asked about his father, as he might have accidentally forgotten to check to see if Neal was back yet. Instead he decided to put Granny's advice to work by letting her know that he was not opposed in the slightest to his teacher.

Emma: I'm sorry about tonight. I never imagined that your father wouldn't be available. Sure you're fine?

Henry: Got it mom. Mr. Jones and I are watching movies right now. He's really funny and he's smart too.

Emma: Glad to hear it. I'll be there soon. Be sure to thank Mr. Jones for me?

Henry scrolled through to find the selfie that he had taken with Killian and Roland at the game. His teacher had joked it was probably not a good idea to let the other students see it, as he didn't need anyone assuming that Henry received special treatment. Attaching it to his latest text, he typed out a message saying that he missed her and would see her soon.

He knew that his mother was an over thinker and would be studying that photo for any nuances she could detect. She would probably measure and weigh each smile or the dimples on their cheeks. There would probably be hushed discussions with her friends as they studied it too, which Henry hoped would help dispel any of the fears she might have about this man.

She worried about him. He wasn't too young to realize that. She worried about what he ate and when he went to bed. She was concerned about his homework, his friends, and his hobbies. There were nights when he'd seen her going through her budget and muttering things about college educations and cars. Then there were the furtive conversations with his father about responsibilities and loyalty. On more than on occasion she had told Neal that Henry was their son not a pastime to be put away when he got bored.

"You alright there, lad?" Killian asked, rubbing his hand over his face and digging the heel of his palm into his eye. "Is the movie that boring that you're sleeping with your eyes open?"

Henry laughed dropping the phone into his lap. "Just thinking," he said, biting on the inside of his cheek. Granny had pulled Henry aside almost a week ago and pointed out his teacher with an animated eagerness. "You have a lot of boat stuff here."

While the majority of the décor in Killian's home was utilitarian, there were a few nautical items about. Baskets made of seagrass held items on built in shelving. A weather worn anchor hung between two windows with a faded life preserver on the opposite wall. Even though it was quite dark, Henry could make out the lights of the marina and docks from the windows and knew that they were quite close. Even on their walk up the path to the front door had the most intoxicating scent of the water.

"Aye," Killian said, stifling a yawn and attempting to stretch a bit while sitting still. "I did some time in the Navy, as did my brother. But even before that I knew that my home was going to include the sea."

"Do you have a boat?" Henry asked, suddenly wondering if Granny's assumption that he did was correct. "Do you like to fish?"

Killian chuckled at the double question, but answered in a soft tone. "I do have a small vessel, but she's not much for a fishing tool. I haven't the patience to sit still and wait long enough to be much good at that."

Henry mulled that over for a moment, looking back at the television where the lead actress was running up the stairs instead of outside. "My mom loves boats," he fibbed. "She grew up around them."

"Did she now?" Killian asked, mildly distracted by the soft snore of Roland from the other room. "And did you too?"

"Not as much as I would have liked," Henry said, attempting to modify his sad expression that his mother claimed no longer worked. "Maybe you could show us your boat sometime? I bet my mom would love it."

"Henry, I know that Mrs. Lucas, Granny, has been plotting something with regard me and your mother, but you do realize that people don't automatically like each other because some old woman tells them to do so. There is more to it than that. And I'm not sure your mother is of a similar mind as me on many things."

Henry pressed his thumbs together in a way that he seemed to be fascinated with, his eyes studying them thoroughly. "You have barely talked to her yet. You don't know."

"I'm sure your mother is a lovely woman. Perhaps I will find out that she is, but Henry, that is not something she and I will know unless we decide to talk and see each other. No amount of molly coddling my Mrs. Lucas or her granddaughter will make anything happen any faster." He smiled affectionately. "I don't want to have you thinking that I…"

"No, I get it," Henry said, his hopeful smile deflating like a balloon. "But just so you know, Granny is a legend when it comes to this stuff. She introduced half of this town to their wives and husbands. Just ask Ms. Blanchard."

Appearing confused, Killian leaned forward to pick up his now empty coffee container. "I thought Ms. Blanchard met David when she accidentally got into his truck thinking it was her friend's. He accused her of stealing and it was a big dramatic confrontation?" That was the story that had been told to him by the rather perky and devoted teacher.

Henry shrugged, looking back at the television before speaking. "Who do you think sent him out to catch her?"

***AAA***

"They aren't bad," Liam agreed as Emma played another song on her phone through the jeep's speakers. "I rather like their rendition of it."

"You don't think they sound like every other boy band out there?" Emma asked, sneaking a glance at the man snoozing in the back seat. "I think that is the big problem with every group that asks me to hear their work. It's all the same. It just sort of blends together after a while."

Liam merged the jeep into the light but steady traffic on the interstate before he answered. "I've wondered about that myself," he admitted. "There are a finite number of words. A finite number of notes. What happens when they all get used? Will there ever be a day when there aren't any new songs or new sounds? Aren't we all just doing what people before us have done?"

His questions were punctuated by the grumbling of Robin as he attempted to turn over to a more comfortable position in the cramped quarters of the back seat. The man muttered some words about someone answering the phone and then drifted back off without even opening his eyes.

"That's pretty deep philosophical talk for this time of night," Emma said with a snort. "I think there are plenty of unique or original ideas out there. Maybe it just takes courage to try to be the one to tame them?"

"And is that your job then, love? Trying to find the courage underneath the repetitive?

"That makes it sound more glamorous than it is. I think my job is to wade through the muck and find the acts that will sell. I may get caught up in what's good music or what is entertaining, but the truth is that I am looking for the thing or the hook that will sell more songs and albums. That's what the business side of things is all about."

Liam stayed silent for a few minutes, another song playing with a hint of country and blues. She could tell that he must at least like it somewhat when his hand began to pat along with the beat on the steering wheel. "Maybe that is why I never found success in the business side of music. I was always too busy trying to make it convey the message I wanted. I was too critical of finding the right note or chord. When Killian and I were growing up our mother encouraged us, but she did worry that we weren't getting enough sleep when she would find us both curled up and asleep from exhaustion. Me with my notebooks and Killian with his guitar."

The intermittent light from the highway created strange shadows across them and Emma tried to find a pattern in them. "I never had a sibling," she admitted, not adding any more about her history and lack of blood relations, "but maybe you were on to something. I'm working on producing a first album for two sisters who sing like angels. We don't have a complete list yet on the songs, but I'm getting excited."

A note of realization crossed Liam's features as he switched lanes to pass a car that was going too slowly for his tastes. "Aye, I think Mrs. Lucas mentioned them. The older sister is Elsa?"

Of course, Emma thought to herself, Elsa was supposed to be set up with Liam. He was probably curious and a bit apprehensive on the idea if he was going through with it. Elsa would be too, her quiet demeanor seeming starkly different than that of the former naval officer. "Yes," Emma confirmed, her finger sliding along her phone. "She and her sister are recording a few tracks this weekend. Elsa and Anna both dabble in writing too, but I'm not sure they have anything worth recording yet."

To his credit, Liam seemed to take the idea of being set up on a date in stride. He asked a few questions about Elsa, but let Emma do her describing in peace. When Emma questioned him on that, he laughed nervously. "I've always been of the mind that people will tell you what you need to know without probing them with an iron poker, love. I have learned more about both you and her by listening to you than I could by asking about your favorite color or what you like to do in your spare time."

"And when she asks about you?" Emma queried. "What should I say?"

"I wouldn't put much stock in what Killian would say of me," he answered after thinking about the question for a moment. "He would call me the unemployed bloke sleeping on his couch. However, I'm hopeful there is a bit more to me than that. I'm dabbling a bit in my music again, which is why I went there tonight."

"Have to give you points for creativity if you pitch your songs or band to me while you drive me to pick up my son," Emma said, gazing over at the access road on the side of the interstate. Businesses were closed and locked up tight for the night. It felt empty and desolate. "What kind of music do you and your band do?"

"It's got more of a blues edge than anything," Liam said in describing his own sound. "Not much of a band though. Will, Robin, and me. Killian used to play too before…So what kinds of music do you lean toward? Is it usually the popular sounds that sell or do you try branch out some?"

"There is a difference in what I like versus what I like for work. I was looking forward to the act that was about to go on stage next tonight, but priorities have to be number one. I did my job. Now I need to do my job as a mom." She dug into the small purse that she had placed between her thigh and the console. Pulling out a pack of mints, she popped one into her mouth and then offered one to Liam.

"Is this your way of saying I have bad breath?"

"No, I was being polite. I swear you and your brother both seem to take my gestures the wrong way. I'm going to have to watch my step around the two of you."

Staring out into the darkness of the road ahead, he quirked up an eyebrow in a position that she had already seen on Killian. "Do explain, love. I would be most appreciative to hear how my brother may have insulted you already."

"He didn't exactly insult me," Emma said. "He just sort of…well…I guess I wasn't clear about what I was asking. I was trying to invite him to join me tonight in Boston. I thought he might enjoy the music and all. But he assumed I wanted him to watch Henry."

Liam laughed so loudly that Robin began to wake from his stupor. Giving him a stilted apology, Liam just shook his head. "My brother is an absolute berk. A beautiful lass invites him out and he assumes like the arse he is that you meant for him to babysit your kid? I think that my brother may have just won an award for that one."

"I suppose I wasn't exactly clear on what I meant," Emma said, not wanting to place all the blame at Killian's feet. "And I didn't correct him. I was feeling the pressure of Granny and Ruby and just went for it. I'm not usually the type who asks a guy out, you know."

"I don't imagine that you are," Liam agreed. "Doesn't change the fact that my brother is essentially a muppet when it comes to you, dear."

***AAA***

Killian was considering pulling out another blanket for Henry, who was fast asleep in the oversized chair with his feet under him and his head on the arm rest, when he heard the crunch of tires on the gravel just outside his front door. Only a single light was burning in the living room, leaving most of the space dark and shadowy so as not to wake his guests. Roland had woken up about 30 minutes earlier and curled himself on the couch with his feet digging into Killian's side.

Making his way to the front door, Killian stepped out onto the covered porch and realized he'd made a mistake in not putting on a pair of shoes. Spring might be on the way, but the coldness of the night air seeped through every available place. Curling his arms around himself he greeted his brother who was attempting to help Robin sit up straight and speaking too softly for him to hear to Emma.

"I'm so sorry about this," Emma said as she jumped down from the passenger seat. "I never meant…"

"Think nothing of it," Killian said warmly. "Henry's a great lad and I enjoyed spending time with him. He helped me keep Roland under control or at least within arms length."

"Still," she said, her pace pausing just in front of the steps to the porch. "You probably had better things to do tonight than this."

"Ahh, but he didn't," Liam chimed in, throwing his brother the keys and stating he was driving Robin and Roland home in the father's car. "It's not like a beautiful lass was asking him out or anything." With a wink in Emma's direction, he disappeared into the house and came back out with Roland thrown over his shoulder and the boy's limp and sleeping form askew as he walked toward the car.

Killian said nothing of his brother's not so veiled insult. "Henry's asleep inside. Should I wake him so I can drive you both home?"

"You could offer her a drink, brother," Liam suggested in that loud booming voice. "The woman had to ride back from Boston with me and Rip Van Winkle-Rum over there. She could probably use something to take the edge off."

Shooting his brother a warning glance, Killian gestured toward the door. "I suppose it would be rude of me not to at this point," he said. "Care for a drink, Emma?"

"I…" she broke off, not sure about accepting a clearly coerced invitation.

"It's just a drink," Liam interrupted again, this time guiding a clumsily standing Robin to the car. "It's not like a request to babysit or anything." While Robin might not have known the reason for Liam's joke, he laughed uproariously and almost lost his footing.

"Well," Emma said, shifting her attention back to Killian, "if it's just a drink."