Happy Once Sunday! Just a quick chapter to see what's going on with the reluctant love birds. I'm exhausted from my little road trip, but I'll try to have some good updates for you this week. Love to all!

"So all I get is a 'thanks for dropping off my car and do you want some coffee?'" Mary Margaret asked, her coat folded neatly over her arms. "Did you go out with him or not?"

"Out?" Emma asked, wiping the counter off with the wet sponge. "No."

The teacher dropped the coat on the back of the couch and crossed the ten or so steps over to her friend. "You're playing word games right? Because Elsa said she tried to call you and you didn't answer. David and I both tried and voicemail. Ruby sent two texts that you didn't open until after midnight."

"I told David that I was planning a night in with pasta and Netflix," Emma protested, turning her attention to the cabinet in front of her. She began to turn the labels to face the right direction. "And truthfully, you all were on dates. Don't you know you're not supposed to be on your cell phone during a date?"

The teacher scrunched her face up, spinning in place to inspect the layout and condition of the room. "You stayed in," she said as if ticking off an imaginary list. "And you had pasta. I see the pan in the dish drainer." She took a step toward the sink, her hand running along the edge of the counter in a slow caress. "Wait a second. Two plates and two…"

"I do have a son," Emma protested weakly, taking a step between her friend and the drainer. "Henry's a growing boy."

"And you let him drink wine? Because there are two wine glasses there. I know you like your vino, Emma, but two glasses? That would mean that your dining companion was over 21. Plus I know that Henry stayed with Neal last night."

Emma stayed silent as Mary Margaret ducked to inspect the cupboard under the sink. "Aha!" the petite brunette announced. "I knew it. An empty bottle of wine. And you're not hung over so you didn't drink it alone."

Leaning back on the freshly cleaned counter, Emma watched here friend with a bemused expression. "Are those your two options? I'm having an affair or I'm an alcoholic? Are you taking lessons from David on how to investigate? If so, I'm worried for the safety of this town after that display."

"Well, we're not in a soap opera, so no evil twin." Sighing, she looked at the blonde expectantly. "Killian came over?"

Emma tapped the tip of her nose and nodded as they always did when someone got an answer right playing charades. "Last night. Unannounced. Brought wine. We had dinner. Played trivial pursuit."

"And…"

"And we decided to be friends," Emma said as if making a huge announcement. When her friend didn't respond, she felt her mouth droop down. "Seriously."

"Is this about the teacher parent thing?" Emma merely nodded. "Oh honey, it's not that big of a deal. I mean it's not like he's a teacher giving him some important grade. It's music."

"Hey!" Emma said, startling Mary Margaret. Using her thumb, she pointed at herself. "Making a career in the music industry here."

"I'm just saying that he is one of Henry's elective teachers. If things were that weird, I'm sure Henry could switch to another."

"I'm not asking my son to give up something he loves so that I can go out with his teacher."

"I wasn't suggesting that. I was just thinking that if…"

"There's no need to worry about it. I told you. Killian and I are just going to be friends. We'll have a drink and talk about music. It's not a big deal." She returned to straightening things up, her hands busily arranging and rearranging. While she didn't look at her friend, she did hear her breathing and knew she hadn't left.

"I don't think that's what you're afraid of," Mary Margaret said, not pausing to let Emma let it sink in fully. "Sure you have to be cautious. It's your son. It's his career. But that's not insurmountable here. And maybe you're just using it as an excuse."

The silence between them lasted an awkward second or two, leaving bare the thoughts in her head. "I think you've been watching too many talk shows or reading too many self-help books. You act like I'm in love with this guy. I'll admit to a little bit of a crush, but honestly it's better that I don't act on that. Sure this is all sweet and exciting right now, but what happens when it isn't? What happens when I'm dropping off Henry and trying to duck down low so he doesn't see me? What happens when I have to go for parent teacher conferences and I end up ducking into the janitor's closet to avoid him? I don't want that."

Mary Margaret didn't answer right away, pulling away a tea kettle and filling it with water. She had already set it on the stove before turning her attention back to the conversation. "I get that you worry about that sort of thing. We all do. Maybe it's because every single romantic relationship we have fails before we meet the right person. It's hard to think that this time can be different."

"The odds are not in my favor on this one," Emma said pointedly.

"Perhaps not, but does it feel different?" Mary Margaret moved effortlessly around her friend and stood on her toes so that she might reach the packet of various teas that she had bought during a recent visit. She rooted around and pulled out two packets. "With David it is different. I can't fully pinpoint how or why, but I know it's going to be okay. Better than that really."

Acting in accordance with the teacher, Emma pulled two mugs from another shelf and placed them on the counter. "But the likelihood of that for me is pretty low. You had parents who showed you it was possible. You watch romantic comedies like I watch Law and Order re-runs. Of course you believe in the fairy tale endings and the big romantic gestures."

Changing tactics, Mary Margaret waited on the water to heat. "Do you know what the most romantic thing that David has ever done for me is?" she asked.

"Serenaded you on your birthday? Threatened to beat up Dr. Whale because he was telling people about you two sleeping together that one time? A candlelight dinner for two at some fancy restaurant? I don't know."

Mary Margaret's eyes flashed with humor. "No, but those were all good moments. It was when he came by one evening because he couldn't stop thinking about me. He told me then that I was the one. And believe it not, Emma, I was scared. He let me be scared. He told me he was scared too. It was romantic because it was the first time we were ourselves. The first time we were honest."

"David's a good guy." Emma could hear the buildup of steam in the kettle. "You're lucky."

As she usually did when the subject of David came up, Mary Margaret smiled brilliantly. "Maybe Killian's a good guy too," she told her friend. "Scratch that. I know he is. And maybe you need to accept that he is too."

"And when I do and he turns out to be like Neal or…" Emma cringed when she said Neal's name. Henry's father and David had been friends for a long time. It was only occasionally awkward, but still she tried not to mention him around either Mary Margaret or David.

"You know, I think you might be exaggerating how bad it could get." The tea kettle whistled loudly, making both women jump and then laugh. "You don't duck into closets when Neal is nearby. You face him like the superwoman you are and go on with your life. It's impressive really. And Graham? You dated him for several weeks, which is a record for you. Yet you are still friends with him. You even co-hosted his birthday last year. I think you might be reaching to think that if something happened with Killian that it would be like World War III."

Hanging the dish towel back on its hook, Emma considered this. "I think we're both okay with just…"

"The man came over here, right?" Mary Margaret said slowly and carefully as though talking to one of her students. "He brought wine. I know this because that is not a brand that you buy. You invited him inside. And then boom! You're friends? Something isn't computing here."

"I kissed him," Emma confessed in a whisper before her voice got louder. "Or he kissed me. We kissed, okay? We kissed." It took all her energy not to run her fingers over her lips to try to savor that feeling once again. She may have done that a few times the night before as she thought of it.

"Okay," the dark haired woman drawled. "I'm thinking that might just throw the friends thing out the window."

***AAA***

I'm disappointed," Liam said as the two brothers shared a late breakfast at Granny's. Technically it was lunch, but the two had slept in, been too grumpy to agree on much of anything, and found themselves eating in silence at the booth with the table that wobbled a bit.

"You're going to have to be more specific because I'm lost," Killian answered between bites. "Is it the bacon? The eggs? The coffee?"

"You, brother," Liam said wagging his now empty fork at the man. "I'm disappointed that my little brother left after me last night and yet managed to get home before me. Not just get home before me but showered and went to bed before I put key to the lock. Then you are sitting there like a sullen teenager who found out he's not getting a car for his birthday."

"You were the one on a date," Killian pointed out. "I was simply having a drink with a student's mother and chatting her up a bit. It is not the same thing."

"I can argue semantics with you, but the fact remains that you obviously have more than a few things in common with the beautiful lass and enjoy spending time with her. I don't think it is necessary that you protest so much." Lifting the mug that was far too delicate for his hands, his index finger jutted out to point accusingly at the other man. "But I wasn't planning to lecture you on that today. I was rather thinking that we might collaborate a bit this afternoon with Robin and Will."

His eyelids rose slowly as he contemplated what he could say to his brother. He decided on the more direct question. "What do you mean?"

"I suppose talking with Elsa last night got my creative juices flowing again, brother. I was thinking that we might invite Robin and Will over to see what we could come up with in terms of songs. I know we haven't written much of anything lately, but I seem to have something germinating up there." He pointed at his temple. "What do you say?"

"So you're saying you want the place to yourself this afternoon? I should make myself scarce?"

"Bloody hell, brother, you truly don't understand social cues, do you? I'm asking you to write with us. I'm not asking you to go for a walk, jog, or shopping trip. I'm not even asking you to watch over Roland. You know, I'm starting to realize why you misunderstood Emma. It wasn't a ploy to make you seem more likeable. You are an absolute wanker."

"Is this your attempt to soften me up? I must say you are failing."

Ignoring the obvious reluctance in his brother's answer, Liam began to bat about a few of his song ideas. He threw out some lyrics he had been considering and how he envisioned the arrangement of the music. While Killian rolled his eyes and even called over a server at one point to order a refill on his tea, it wasn't long before he was offering a few suggestions of his own. The two were some of the straggling customers from the mealtime rush when Killian heard someone calling to him.

"Mr. Jones," Henry said, running up stopping short at the end of the booth. "Don't you get tired of this place?"

Liam still found it rather amusing when any child called his younger brother by a formal variation of his name. lifting an eyebrow in question to Killian, the older of the two seemed to settle against the vinyl bench as if waiting for the answer himself.

"Good morning, Henry," Killian answered, quickly correcting that with afternoon. "What brings you here today?" He looked over the boy's shoulder, hoping to catch at least a glimpse of Emma. However, he was slightly disappointed.

"Been spending some time with my dad," he explained, gesturing toward Neal speaking to Granny. "You didn't answer my question though."

Liam chuckled at the boy's persistence and his brother's awkwardness in that moment. Deciding to rescue him rather than continue watching, he tapped the fork on the rim of the plate. "I'm afraid that your teacher and I both slept a bit late today. It was our best bet for some breakfast fare." He paused for just a half second. "And you are Henry? I am afraid we didn't meet. You were asleep the other night when I escorted your mother to come fetch you."

"Aye," Killian added. "Henry, this is my brother, Liam Jones."

***AAA***

Emma's eyes were closed as she listened to the sample track that Elsa and Anna had recorded. Not one to usually let herself be swept away by the music, she did not think she could take the hopeful expression of the younger sister and the more concerned one of the older sister. Sitting on the couch in the girls' living room, Emma had ended up there under the guise of a daily jog. Hair pulled into a high pony tail and her running shoes accompanied the look, but she felt a bit like a fraud since her morning route had detoured past the Marina and Granny's where she had spotted Killian's jeep. Still, she had ended up crossing the park to the sister's rented townhome and said she was ready to talk about what they had recorded.

"Overall good tone," she said as the notes faded away and she realized she had to say something. "Maybe we can adjust the pitch on the background vocals though. It doesn't quite feel right."

Anna twisted the ends of her ginger like hair with her fingers, biting her lip. "I knew you'd like it."

"It's a good song," Emma confirmed. "I definitely think we should keep it on the list."

"But you want us to still go back to the catalog, right?" she asked, her voice sounding more annoyed than hopeful. "You don't think our other…"

Taking in a deep breath through her nose, Emma looked again at the tracks on her phone. They had recorded four songs all together, the usual amount for a demo. It was by far not enough for a full album and at least two of the songs were completely wrong for the style that the women wanted to portray. "I think we'll have to do some from the catalog unless we can find some unpublished ones out there some place under a rock. This one is good, Anna. I'm talking winning a Grammy good, but it's just one song. Tracks three and four are way too immature for the market."

"And the first track?" Elsa asked, her hand going out to stop her sister from jumping up and storming out. "What did you think of it?"

"It's got potential," Emma said. "Maybe work on the chorus a bit more. Perhaps add some bass to the bridge. I don't know. It's missing something that I can't put my finger on."

Anna bypassed her sister's second soothing gesture by leaning away. "I know you think I'm too young and don't have experience, but I'm telling you that I can do this."

"Emma doesn't think that you can't. She's just worried about the timetable. We've been prepping to record for a while now. We need to get something out there in stores and online. We need to move on this."

Setting her mouth in a determined line, the younger of the sisters marched away from the other two. "I'm going to go see if we have any more cookies. I'm dying for a cookie."

The look of affection between the two sisters didn't go unnoticed by Emma, who had never had that sort of relationship. Closing the music app on her phone, she waited until Anna was behind the door of the kitchen before she spoke. "You know we could try working with a songwriter directly? Maybe someone in Boston or New York. I know Anna wants all these to be original, but that might be easier on her ego."

Elsa pressed her long fingers together and then released them. "What about Liam?"

The talent scout's brow furrowed as she realized who her friend was suggesting. "You mean Liam Jones? Well, of course you do, we don't know any other Liam's. I know he has some music aspirations, but most musicians don't like to write for other people. I think he's more interested in getting his band back together."

Shifting uncomfortably on the love seat, Elsa looked down at her own phone. "He sang me a bit of what he's done in the past," she explained. "See, he's written quite a bit. His brother was the one who would sing, but he's not exactly…"

"I'm taking it that the date went well?"

The blonde's long thick braid fell over her shoulder as she nodded her head. "We're going out again," she admitted. "He's been very sweet to me. He even walked with me around the waterfront last night until it rained. Then we sat under the shelter at the docks and talked and talked."

"He must be special if he got you to open up and talk," Emma teased. "It took me weeks before you stopped calling me ma'am though we're the same age."

"Well, maybe he's not as prickly as you are sometimes."

***AAA***

Killian regretted not wearing his thicker coat as he trudged along the sidewalk toward town, hoping that the silence of the day would overtake the chill. He was sure that his brother meant well, as did Robin and Will as they excitedly poured over the two spiral notebooks that Liam was always writing in about song lyrics or ideas. It had become a joked between them that Liam was often listening with only one ear and writing down some quote or word that inspired him.

It wasn't as thought Killian disliked music, which would have been odd for a man who taught it. He did enjoy the sounds of a good melody and found himself critiquing some of the modern songs for their lack of depth and soul. However, it still hurt to not be able to pick up the guitar as he used to do and strum along in a world of his own. There were many moments when he missed his hand, but none so pronounced as when he felt his fingertips itch to feel the thick strings beneath them. He no longer wore the callouses that came with hours of playing, a fact that he had silently bemoaned for hours when he first realized.

"You can't be hungry again already," said a voice that was familiar enough to a bachelor. Standing at the low picket fence that surrounded the back entrance to Granny's was Ruby. Her arms were holding two large bags of trash.

"No, just taking a walk," he answered, holding out a hand to take one of the plastic bags from her. "I may love the menu, but a man can only take so much in a day."

"Emma's going to be here soon. You could stick around and wait on her unless you've got other plans."

"You Lucas women are not to be messed with. A man can't even get an order of onion rings here without pressure about his social life."

Ruby's bright red lips stretched into a smile. "I was just making conversation. I thought that after you dropped by her place last night and all that an accidental meeting might do the trick. You're obviously interested." She feigned such nonchalance that Killian might have believed her to be just an observer, but he knew there was much more to it than that. She was calculating and perhaps a bit manipulative, though in a good way.

"Should I be concerned that you know of my location last night?" he asked, not taking a step toward or away from the diner. "It seems a bit intrusive for you to spy."

She scoffed as she wiped off her hands on the apron that like her skirt skimmed mid-thigh. "I have much better things to do than worry about you getting your game together when it comes to Emma. Have I even warned you that I will have you murdered and your body chopped into little pieces if you so much as make Emma cry? Have I even tried to guilt you into realizing that you are the only man Granny has ever found suitable for Emma? The only one? No, I haven't because I've got a life and things to do. So you can wander around freezing your butt off or you can come in to sit a bit and avoid whatever you're avoiding. I was just saying that Emma will be here soon to fetch her son. She always arrives early so she can have a hot chocolate and wait on Neal and Henry to arrive. What you do with that information is up to you."

There was no time to react before she was marching herself back into the building and whispering something to the old proprietress of the business. Her long legs carried her back to kitchen where he could see through the serving window that she was scrubbing her hands and bantering with one of the cooks. A few moments later she was sliding a plate of onion rings in front of him and telling him that she'd be back in a minute.

It was around the time that Emma arrived and was greeted by Granny that he realized he'd been tag teamed. Peter, the part-time bus boy was lifting chairs to mop the floors before the dinner rush. In his preparation, he'd left no tables open and even blocked off one row of booths by stacking some of the extra chairs there. The stools were full as normal with a few of the stragglers and those who wanted to glimpse Ruby in her short skirt. So when Granny led the blonde woman to his table he was on the verge of laughter.

"I think this is a set up," she declared, sliding into the bench across from him. "It's a little obvious. Peter doesn't mop the floors until after the dinner rush. And I don't think that it would have been that much of a problem to clear another spot for me given how much I spend here."

"I'm not sure how I ended up here myself," he admitted, leaning forward as though to share a secret. "Ruby found me walking by and next thing I know I'm sitting here and looking at the Mount Everest of fried onion rings."

"There are worse things," Emma said with a laugh, reaching out and plucking one off the top. "You know that these go best with…"

Ruby interrupted by sliding two plates in front of them, the steam still rising from the sandwiches. "Grilled cheese," she said as though the brown bread and melted cheddar needed an explanation. "Anything else I can get you?"

It was Emma that made eye contact with her friend, resisting the urge to either flip her off or hug her. She wasn't sure how this had come to pass, but she simply thanked her for the food and watched she sashay over to the counter where one of the men leering at her was sure to offer at least a good tip.

"I'd say you were right, love," Killian said. "It's all an elaborate plot."

***AAA***

Henry had student council on Monday morning, which normally Emma forgot. However, she had been awake since before 4 a.m. and when he trudged into the kitchen with that apologetic expression for having to ask for a ride so early he was surprised that she was already up and ready.

"Do you have another scouting trip?" he asked when she placed his breakfast in front of him and returned to her coffee.

"Is it so strange that I am up so early?" she asked. "I'm not always running late."

"It's a nice surprise."

Emma often missed Henry on the weekends he spent with his dad, which was no surprise since they had spent very little time apart during his first years of life. While she did not begrudge her son a relationship with his father or Neal the chance to be a dad, she always felt better to wake up with her son just down the hall. She appreciated the morning discussions of the day's schedule and even the tidbits of gossip he told her about the happenings in the middle grades at the academy. Though she couldn't pick them out of a lineup, she knew who was texting whom, who had gone to the winter dance with someone else's significant other, and even which of the boys was responsible for the wet toilet paper fight in the boys' restroom.

By the time they were piled into her car, she was well on her way to concentrating her energy on Henry's upcoming science test and her two recording sessions that week. Maybe that was why she didn't see Killian when he opened the passenger door to her car and greeted her son before sending him off to the meeting.

"Good morning," he said, his left arm resting on the roof of her car and his body bent down to peer inside. The angle at which he was holding himself was too familiar, reminding her of the kiss on the couch.

"What are you doing here?" she asked before realizing how utterly ridiculous she sounded. He worked there. Where else would he be?

"Morning carpool duty," he explained. "We haven't hit the rush of it yet so I can personally welcome each of the early arrivals."

She nodded, trying to ignore the way his blue eyes seemed even bluer that morning. There were no bags under his eyes and his shirt (a pale blue button down) seemed crisp and fresh. While she was more put together than some morning when she was tossing pop tarts at her son instead of bacon and eggs, her hand unconsciously combed through her hair and she wondered if she had managed to keep her lip gloss on her lips. "It will probably get busier later," she said. "You know, when all the kids arrive."

His bemused smirk was fleeting and replaced with a sweeter and more hopeful expression. "Good to see you, Emma. I guess I'll see you this afternoon when you pick up Henry."

She kept that image in her head as she drove the couple of blocks to the bank of offices that Regina had acquired a few years ago. Giving a nod to the early arriving assistant and waving off the offer of pastries and sugar filled coffee, she and hurried into the office that Emma was not all that sure hadn't been a storage room at one point. Skipping over the email messages that usually found their way into her inbox in the morning, she sent a few quick notes to Regina about pending projects and checked in with the recording team about some ideas that she had. There was no word back on from the latest singer she'd tried to recruit so she found herself looking at the notes she and the producer had made about Elsa and Anna's work. Maybe Elsa had a point, she thought, scrolling through her phone to find Liam's number. Not finding it, she sucked in a breath and texted Killian to ask for it. She was still staring at the phone, carrying on a benign yet ongoing conversation with Killian when Regina sauntered through the door with a brief apology for interrupting.

"Anna and Elsa's song selections," she said, taking a seat in the empty chair across from Emma. Her black skirt was typical of any business suit until she crossed her legs revealing a high slit along one side. Despite the fact that the office was usually overly warm, she wore her matching blazer and a set of heels that Ruby would envy. "Where are we on those? I've got some backers ready to hear them, but not if they insist on singing the drivel they recorded the other day. Seriously, one Taylor Swift it enough. We don't need two sisters imitating her style."

"I'm bringing in a composer to work with them," Emma said, ignoring the last text that Killian had sent telling her that he hoped friends could do dinner sometime. She was actually relieved that she could postpone answering that one for a while. "Maybe someone outside the mainstream so we aren't stuck with that generic sound."

Regina took a moment to consider this, blinking up at the ceiling. "And where are you going to find this out of the mainstream composer? Do you have someone in mind or are we talking in generalities here, Ms. Swan. I really don't have the time or money to invest in them if we aren't ready to go."

"We'll be ready," Emma promised. "Anything else?" Usually Regina gave an order and then either left the room or dismissed her employee to carry it out. She wasn't the type to linger or wait about for conversation.

"My sister has decided to incorporate herself into the financial dealings with this company," Regina finally said, a barely perceptible shudder crossing her as she said the word sister. "Now I'm trying very hard to play nicely and let her feel like she's actually contributing, but you know how she is. Anyway, she has this idea for a backers' dinner and showcase. It'll be an opportunity for us to highlight some of our talent to people who can afford to put them in the spotlight. I've got a good preliminary list, but I was thinking it might be good to have someone or some group that we can announce that night as having offered them a deal."

"Any ideas?" Emma asked, her mind running through her recent scouting trips. "I assume you'll want someone who will wow a crowd."

"Naturally, but we'll talk more about it later. In the meantime, I want new songs recorded for those two immediately. I want something to show investors next week. Got it?"

***AAA***

She texted him to find out his brother's contact information, which he could have blown off as necessity. However, Killian couldn't help smiling a bit brighter when he saw her name pop up on his phone. Friends or something more, he was not able to deny to himself that he found himself much happier when she contacted him. He'd even managed to throw in a few more texts to prolong the conversation, asking if she had reached him yet and suddenly "remembering" that his brother had a job interview and might not be available. He even responded to her thank you with his own assurance that it was no problem.

"Good thing you're on your planning period," the voice from the doorway said. "Otherwise you might lose a student or something. Talk about distracted."

"Ahhh, Ms. Blanchard. Pleasure to see you. You don't usually make your way to this end of the building."

The brunette teacher looked around the classroom, appraising the layout and decorations. "It's different than when you first moved into it. More lived in than before." She grinned, crossing over to the platform where he stood to direct the band students. Standing in that position, she stared out at the empty seats in a semi-circle and wildly waved her hands to the imaginary orchestra. "I've been a bad mentor, haven't I?"

Mary Margaret had been assigned to Killian his first year at Storybrooke Academy. He had not required much of her, preferring to keep their discussions limited to where to find the copier and what paperwork was required for grading. Their weekly meetings turned to monthly and then to waves across the faculty retreats and inservice days.

"I don't think all the blame can be placed at your feet," he said. "But I'm curious about what brought you here today. Am I in need of mentoring?"

"Perhaps," she said, turning to face him. "I was just thinking that you and I haven't really haven't had a chance to speak about your teaching here. I know that you're up for your review soon. Maybe you'd like some pointers?" She smiled innocently, but her fingers dug at the hem of her sweater and revealed her nerves. "Maybe you and a guest could come over for dinner at my place. I could invite my boyfriend."

He again was amazed by the thoroughness of the Lucas women to even invade the plans of his co-workers. "I'll have to check with my brother to see what his plans are, but might be fun," Killian said, smirking as her eyes filled with panic.

"He's welcome to come, but I meant…well, more like a date." She frowned. "I meant Emma."

Cocking his head to the side, he appreciated the worried expression on her face and the way she looked half ready to run from the room in retreat. However, he did have a heart and decided to throw her a bit of a bone. "I suppose I could ask her. I have heard that the two of you are friends."

The bright and hopeful smile of the teacher grew even bigger. "Awesome," she declared. "I think it'll be fun."