So last night's episode just about killed me and I'm struggling over the preview, but hoping to survive the angst. This chapter has a bit more Frozen Queen, as well as some Anna and Emma thinking about something to do to help move them forward.

There will be more updates this week, but I should go ahead and say that my schedule is a bit out of sorts. I have a second interview for a job that I really want on Thursday and an interview with someone named Killian Jones on Tuesday (next week) for another job. Keep your fingers crossed for me, as I really need to find something soon. Freelancing and creative work is great, but my family and I need a steadier pay check. Also keep your fingers crossed for me that I don't say something messed up to Killian Jones or giggle when he introduces himself. Because that is totally something I would do. Anyway, I will update when I can, but both interviews are about 2 hours away from where we live now (we're hoping to move) so that means a lot of time in the road or getting prepped for the interview.

Thank you all for the comments and requests for certain things. There has not been much focus on the matchmaking with Elsa and Liam yet, but there is a reason for that. They seem to be moving forward on their own. However, you know nothing ever goes smoothly so they will need some nudging soon.

By Friday Emma was sure that she was not any closer to finding the right songs for Elsa and Anna. She and the two sisters had holed up with Liam for long hours, pouring over ideas and trying out different arrangements. It was clear that Elsa and Liam was trying hard to remain professional, especially in front of Anna, but there were certainly enough glances and smiles that it was becoming that there was more than just a working relationship.

When Liam was busy tuning the guitar and was warming up some water to drink with honey to soothe her tired vocal cords, Emma found herself standing on the deck just off Killian's living room. She leaned her elbows on the well-worn railing and stared out at one of the fishing boats coming in from a morning run. There was something peaceful and picturesque about the view, water bouncing rays of light back up toward the sky and the steady beat of the waves against the pilings of the nearby dock.

"You've always liked the water," Anna said, squinting. "Maybe that's why Granny thinks you and Killian would be a good match?"

"Not you too," Emma said with a groan. "It's very sweet and a bit overwhelming that so many people are interested in my love life, but seriously. Can I have a conversation that doesn't include Killian's name?"

Anna made a show of pretending to lock her lips and throw away the key, letting the silence stand for just another moment before she turned her head back to the cottage. "So do they really think I don't know? Besides the whole Granny pushing for them, I have seen the looks he gives her and the way she hums under her breath when she thinks he isn't looking." She brushed off Emma's incredulous look. "What? It's a thing she does when she likes a guy. Nobody ever notices, but I do. I'm her sister. I know her."

"They do seem to be getting along pretty well," Emma said, stealing a glance through the French doors at the two of them. He still had the guitar resting on his lap, but one of this hands was pushing back some of Elsa's hair behind her ear. The blonde woman was smiling at him over the rim of her mug as he said something. "Okay better than that really."

"Do you think they want to go out again? I know he asked, but after this whole working together thing I'm not sure it has happened. They are trying so hard to hide it."

"I think she worries that you'll be upset or judge," Emma answered honestly. "You haven't been very open about this collaboration thing."

"That's different," Anna huffed into the cold air. "I am picky about the music I sing. It can't just sound good. It has to be us."

"It will be," Emma promised. "Even if you didn't write it, you can still put your own spin on it."

Anna seemed to take than in for a minute. "You think he really likes her? And not just as someone he was obligated to see because of Granny?"

"Yeah," Emma said with a slow nod. "I think he really might. And more importantly, I think your sister likes him too."

The younger of the two began to fiddle with the zipper on her jacket. "I guess I could go a little easier on him." Finally winning the war with the metal fastener, she smiled jubilantly. "I could make them dinner. It would be great. I mean I 'd need your help, but it would be so wonderful and romantic."

"Anna, I don't know…"

"No, it will be great. And you can be on the planning end for a change. What'll we serve?" Anna was clearly into the planning mode at that point, mentally going through her repertoire of recipes and throwing out a few suggestions to Emma.

"Maybe we should just concentrate on the music right now," Emma suggested as Anna wandered to the edge of the deck and stairs. "We don't have to play matchmaker too."

However, Anna wasn't listening. She was half way to her car when she suddenly screamed, "Scallops. Elsa loves them!"

***AAA***

Anna had already disappeared under the guise of her own date with Kristof when Killian arrived at the cottage with Henry in tow. After the way that his brother had been secretly but not so discretely been talking over the phone and via text with Elsa, he wasn't surprised to see the two of them on the couch. They weren't exactly touching, but his brother's arm was loosely thrown over the back of the furniture and his hand was within reach of Elsa's shoulder. Their eyes were locked and the two of them seemed in a world of their own as they shared some joke that had his brother guffawing and Elsa laughing behind her hand.

"You all look to be hard at work," Killian said as he dropped his bag onto the table beside the door. Henry had already swooped past him to greet his mother.

"We're making progress," Emma declared, closing her notebook where she had been scribbling notes. "I think that we've gotten a few more options."

She stood to hug her son and crossed the few steps toward Killian before agreeing that Henry could go down to the docks to see the boats. Killian had already driven Henry there twice that week and each time her son was eager to see the mixture of cruisers and fishing vessels. She gave him the standard lecture about not getting too close to the edge and not bothering any of the seamen or fishermen who were working, but she knew that they could watch him from the breakfast nook in Killian's kitchen.

Looking at her there with the evening sun almost red through the windows and glowing around her, his tongue felt too thick for his mouth and tension tied his stomach in knots. "I have something for you," he said, turning toward the refrigerator and pulling down a book from atop it. "I thought you might enjoy reading it."

The book he handed her was old and worn, the pages yellow and cover cracked. She could tell that it was love rather than neglect that had left it that way. Smoothing her hand over the cover, she smiled at the familiar sounding title about the ocean. "You thought of me when you saw it?"

His cheeks flushed to the color of the evening sun as he watched her eyes narrow to study him. "I've had it forever," he admitted. "It was one of my mother's favorites and became mine too. I've read it so many times that I could probably recite it from memory. I was looking at my shelf last night and thought to myself that you would probably like it too."

Holding it in both hands, she smiled first down at the tome and then at him. "Thank you, Killian," she said. "I will take care of it. Maybe after I read it, we can…"

"I'd like that," he answered a bit more boldly. Lifting his left foot, he let it hover before taking one step toward her. There might have been more if he hadn't heard the unmistakable sound of his brother gleefully laughing along with Elsa.

"They seem…"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Yeah, let's not go there. I've already had the conversation with Elsa's sister."

Killian chuckled, his eyes shifting back to Emma. "I've been meaning to ask you. More like I've been told to ask you…Would you mind coming with me to dinner at your friend Mary Margaret's? Seems she's trying to be sociable and requiring me to bring a guest who is not my brother."

She grimaced and then grinned. "They aren't giving up, are they?" she asked. She knew the answer to that. Ruby had already given her the third degree when she stopped in for a to-go coffees before meeting everyone the other day. Mary Margaret was sending her women's magazine articles about dating. And Liam was not so subtly selling the benefits of Killian in every day conversation. He'd already bragged about his brother's dancing and cooking abilities, as well as his knack for learning new things.

"Like a dog with a bone," he responded, pulling open one of the drawers closest to the refrigerator. "Are you all about done for the day or should I place an order for some food. I was thinking anything but Granny's."

Liam's footsteps were heavy as he passed into the kitchen, pulling the diner's menu from the same drawer. "And what might be wrong with such a fine diner as Granny's?" he asked. "I rather like the food, the service, and of course Mrs. Lucas. She's a fine woman." He glanced back at Elsa on the couch and winked playfully. "As a matter of fact, I think I'll take my lovely singing companion there this evening."

"We really should finish tweaking that song," Emma protested, looking back and forth between the two brothers for support. Finding none, she sighed. "I guess we could look at it again in the morning. But remember I've got studio time scheduled for Elsa and Anna in the afternoon. And Liam you've got those guitarists auditioning too."

Liam chuckled, giving his brother a playful slap to his chest. "She's quite the bossy one. Always directing and giving orders. Reminds me of myself in my naval days."

"I have a boss and she's concerned about the lack of progress on this project," Emma reminded them. "But since it is Friday, I'll tell the two of you to run off and have your fun."

Elsa joined them, her shoulder brushing against Liam's as she swayed a bit in his direction. "Are you sure you won't join us?"

"I should probably collect Henry and get home," Emma said. "Like I told you, it'll be a busy day tomorrow."

"No need to rush off, lass," Liam insisted, reaching over and grabbing the blue wool coat and holding it out for Elsa to step into. When she did, he smoothed her hair over the collar and gave a tiny squeeze to both her shoulders. "You must be hungry given how long ago we had lunch. If you're not in the mood for Granny's, I'm sure my brother can order up something for you and your boy. He's got a real talent for that."

Killian hastened toward the drawer. "My brother mocks me, but I can cook, love. Perhaps though you and Henry might prefer some pizza. I have soda for the lad and I might have a couple of beers if Liam and the other blokes he insists on keeping company with haven't seen fit to abscond with them yet."

"They are safely inside," Liam noted, shrugging into his own coat and guiding Elsa out the door. "Weak brew and hardly worth cracking open. Have fun you two."

Emma didn't say she would stay, but Killian tried to take that as an affirmative answer when she did not immediately gather her belongings and Henry. Gauging her willingness to stay for a bit, he questioned her choice in pizza toppings and found an agreeable combination of items that the three of them might enjoy. "I'll make the call if you want to see to Henry," he suggested, testing one last time if she was staying. She nodded wordlessly and grabbed her own coat and Henry's scarf as she walked out the door. His exhale matched the closing of it.

***AAA***

Ruby waved off her friend Mary Margaret as she doctored up the popcorn with some hot spices. "I'm telling you this is how the movie stars do it. Everything is so spicy that you sweat. If you are sweating, you're burning calories. If you're burning calories, you're losing weight."

"You don't need to lose weight," Mary Margaret protested, pouring the soda over the ice and carrying them into the living room of her second floor loft. Usually girls' nights included Emma and sometimes a few other friends, but nobody else had seemed available. "And you're ruining the popcorn."

"It'll be great," Ruby insisted, carrying the oversized bowl with her. "So are we going romance, comedy, drama, or what? And where the hell is Emma? Girls' movie nights is nonnegotiable. Bras before bros and all that."

"She's working with that duo she's trying to get recorded and still trying to set up auditions for different groups." Wrinkling her nose, she sniffed at the bowl of popcorn, which had the scents of lime and red pepper. "I think we can give her a pass."

Sinking into the cushions of the rattan couch, Ruby popped a few of the kernels into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "Are we sure she's not at Killian's?"

"She said no, but I asked. She is still claiming they are just friends. He's pretending like he has no idea what I mean about her being a date for him to bring to my little dinner party. It would be cute if it wasn't so annoying." She reached for her remote and scrolled through the movie selections, pausing on a few before moving past others.

"Speaking of annoying," Ruby said, a lacquered nail tapping the side of the glass bowl. "We need to talk logistics and strategy. We have too many people conspiring to get the two of them together. I'm setting up forced meetings, you're encouraging Killian to invite Emma places, Granny mixed up their to-go orders and then told them to sort it out, and Henry has forgotten his backpack during music practice twice this week so that Emma had to contact Killian to pick it up. I hate to admit it, but we might be going a bit hard at it."

"We probably should confer before we put a plan in place. We wouldn't want time conflicts to get in the way of romance."

***AAA***

"Who the hell orders ice cream when it is freezing outside?" Liam asked indignantly as he and Elsa walked from the ice cream shop. He was empty handed, but his date was enjoying a double scoop of mint chocolate chip.

They had already had their dinner, courtesy of Granny, and talked, sometimes laughing, sometimes stumbling over emotions and explanations. Over appetizers of crab pate and toast squares (not typically on the menu at the diner but made upon request), Liam told Elsa more about his mother and her influence over his love of music. For the main course he ordered lasagna and she had grilled chicken and vegetables, allowing them both to share off each other's dish as she told him her worries about performing in public. The white wine they had sipped throughout the meal had loosened them both, giving them each the courage that only alcohol can bring.

"It's not that cold," she protested, taking another bite as he made a show of pulling the collar of his coat up. "It's not snowing or anything."

"Mere technicality," he said, pointing to the sign above the bank on Main Street. "If I'm calculating the way you Americans do your temperature correctly, it's merely a degree above freezing. We should be snuggling in front of a fire with spiked cocoa or something, not freezing our arses off and nibbling on ice cream cones." Even in his sternness, he was managing to grin at her, taking the sting out of his words.

"Are you cold, Liam?" she asked, ignoring his speech. "We could do something else."

Taking her free hand in his gloved one, he continued with their leisurely stroll down in front of the shops. After she had finished the frozen treat, they managed to drag each other into a few and check out everything from worthless baubles to finery that was out of their price ranges. Finding themselves in the pawn shop that was owned by Mr. Gold. Neal ran it when his father was busy, but on that evening it was the older man himself behind the counter. Liam waved off the man's offer to help and pulled Elsa over to a collection of vinyl records in one of the far corners as Mr. Gold helped a woman who was looking to find a replacement for her mother's antique china cup.

"I may be younger than you are, Liam, but I'm familiar with records," she laughed as he began to peruse through them with the attention of someone buying a new house or car. "I even have a few."

"I knew there was something good about you," he teased back, pulling a colorful number from the stack. "This is one of my favorites. Played it as a child until it was warped and skipped through so much that my brother insisted I throw it out."

A dusty turntable sat there in that corner on a table that Pinterest would probably have a dozen or so plans to turn into a desk or a corner nook of some type. Leaning over it, Liam blew a breath to displace a layer or two of the dust and placed the black vinyl disc onto its surface. As he lowered the needle, the scent of burning dust filled their nostrils and the scratchy sounds of the beginnings of the familiar refrain.

"I would have pictured you liking hair bands or heavy metal more than standards and romance," she said as the music filled the air. "But listening to it this way does take on a new quality."

"Aye," he said, extending his hand to her. "Care to dance, love?"

Twin flags of embarrassment colored her cheeks as she shook her head. "Not here," she said quickly, stealing a glance at the man still busy behind the counter. "I don't want…"

"No worries," he said in a velvet tone, "I'll find us a more private place to share a dance, if you prefer."

"If you're suggesting I go back to your place, I'd think that was a bad idea," she said as he replaced the record in its cover. "Your brother and my dear friend don't need gawkers."

"Are you suggesting yours?" he asked with an eyebrow raised in a mocking display of surprise. "I'm shocked."

"My sister and her boyfriend are there," Elsa said with a playful swat at him. "We don't really…"

"I think I know a place," he said, tugging on her hand as they bid goodbye to Mr. Gold and hurried along in the direction he chose.

***AAA***

Killian felt like a lovesick teen, he realized as the three of them were nibbling on their pizza and enjoying the conversation between himself and the mother and son. It wasn't just the way she would smile at him when a joke flew over Henry's head or the wink when something she said could have doubled as an innuendo. He realized a little bit too late that his own smile was growing bigger every time that he made her laugh, pride radiating through him that he could provoke such a response.

She made one more mention of leaving before Henry jumped in with a request to watch a movie. It wasn't a school night was his argument that to Killian's relief worked on the woman. She helped to clear the table, lingering next to the sink where he was rinsing off the plates as Henry plopped down to surf through the channels.

He lost his grip on one of the plates, dropping it into the soapy water with a plop that sent the water sloshing out on both of them. His first instinct was to apologize until he looked toward Emma and saw the way her sweater was clinging even more to her than before. Her request to remain friends rather than explore anything more echoed in his ears. However, those ears were not feeling very connected to his libido at that moment.

"Rather than play a board game we could a wet t-shirt contest," he suggested, waggling his eyebrows at the idea. "I would give you points for wearing a white sweater."

"If you weren't so mature," she said, dabbing at the clinging fabric with a towel, "I might think you did that on purpose."

"I apologize, love. You're welcome to borrow one of my shirts until yours dries. My bedroom's right through that door."

She inspected the material again, seeing that her blotting efforts were doing nothing and she was starting to smell of the lemon dish soap. "Thanks."

She disappeared into the recesses of his room, giving him more than enough inappropriate thoughts of other things they could be doing in there. Left with dirty dishes and her son only feet away, he tried to think of anything else in that moment. He was doing a pretty good job until she came out in one of his blue button down shirts that she had complimented him on the other day. It was then that he cursed the blood thundering through his veins and pounding in his ears.

"Sometimes I don't know if it is playing the trumpet he likes or the fact that he gets to hang out with you," she said, reaching for the red and white towel. "He's…he's never been one to really hang out with kids his age. He always gravitates toward my friends and wants to fit in with the adults."

"Common issue of the only child," Killian noted, handing her the plate to dry. "But if it makes you feel better, he seems to fit in quite well in school with his classmates."

She looked back at him carefully. "I wasn't soliciting information about my son at school, Mr. Jones," she said, using the formal name. "I was commenting that he seems to like you and is comfortable with you. It's nice to see."

"He's a good kid."

"Yeah, he is," she agreed, settling the plate into the bamboo holder. "I didn't really answer you on the Mary Margaret thing."

"It's no great shakes, Emma," he said quickly. "I know everyone seems to have plans for us that don't match what we've agreed upon. I wouldn't want it to be awkward for you at all."

She looked back toward the living area and noticed that Henry had selected something to watch. The glow of the set was evident against his skin with no lights on in that area. She was again taken by the hominess of the comfortable cottage, finding herself with no problem imagining herself there with Killian. "It's not that exactly," she said, perching her bottom against the edge of the counter. "How well do you know Mary Margaret? I know you work together, but do you really know her beyond that?"

His brow quirked up in curiosity to her question. "I suppose not much better than any of my colleagues. She was assigned as my mentor teacher, but we haven't ever spent that much time talking. I mean I know about David and how she refers to him as her Prince Charming. Quite nauseating really."

"You're not into fairy tales?"

"I have more of a penchant for villains with hearts of gold than I do for boring princes who swoop in at the last minute to save the day. But it hardly seems a reason to be embarrassed to be seen with me at your friend's for dinner. What is it that you're avoiding?"

"Mary Margaret is the happiest and most hopeful person you could ever meet. She never says a cross word to anyone and when she has, she regrets it so much that an apology is not far behind. She's a great friend, but she isn't like me at all. She's…Well, I sort of told her that you and I had kissed." She shook her head vehemently when he moved his mouth to speak. "She's kind of hardcore with the pressure in a low key kind of way if that makes sense. Anyway, since she heard that, she's been on this whole kick with Ruby and Granny."

"Aye, she does seem a bit more persistent about this than any other time she's requested me to meet. Perhaps it's best I speak to her and explain that…"

His words faltered and the two of them looked toward the darkened living room and the glow of the television. "She's my friend. I'll do it. I'd like to go with you, but I just don't want to give her the wrong impression. If they think we're caving in, they are likely to push that much harder. So I'll talk to her and explain it again. We're just friends."

"Makes sense," he said. Turning back to the cabinets, he rooted around for some sort of snack for them to share. "Emma?"

"Yeah?" she asked distractedly.

"What exactly did you tell her about our kiss?"

***AAA***

"Your brother is going to kill you," Elsa said as Liam fumbled for the interior lights on the sail boat that Killian had spent weekends restoring when the weather was better. Still a bit battered and outdated, the boat had been something he had a lot of pride in showing Liam when the older of the two arrived in Storybrooke.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," Liam assured her. He flipped a few more of the switches with no success. "Bloody Hell." In his true sailor fashion, he kicked at the base of the wall that he was standing next to, thinking that might help his plight.

Standing with one foot on the ladder, Elsa clucked sympathetically as his finger caught on a jagged piece of plastic. "Come here, you big baby," she said. "I don't suppose you know where he keeps his first aid kit."

Liam stepped closer to her, overtaken by the electricity that seemed to spark between them but on place else in the boat. "I think he might notice if we took his supplies, love."

"Better that you should leave blood stains on his boat?" Pulling her phone out of her purse and patting his injured hand, she shook her head. "I'll go look for it. You stay here and stay out of trouble."

Using the flashlight on her phone, Elsa searched the rather bare contents of the drawers and found a metal box with the words first aid painted in red. She pilfered a bottle of antiseptic, some gauze, and a bandage before returning to Liam.

"You're a woman of many talents," he said, chuckling as she knitted her brow together in concentration of the task. He held the phone for her with his good hand to allow her to work with the help of the artificial light and the moonbeams cascading down from the opening.

"I considered being a nurse," she confessed. "I even got into a program, but I thought better of it."

"Why is that?" he asked, grimacing at the sting of the liquid she used to clean the cut. "Seems you might have been good at it."

"I wasn't thrilled about causing pain. I cringed and cried as much as the patient the day I learned to give a shot." She laughed, her pulse pounding as he swayed closer to her. "It was a sight."

"I'm sure you were adorable. And truthfully you are fueling quite a few fantasies at the moment with me picturing you in a little white nurse uniform. Did you wear the hat too?"

She rolled her eyes, wiping a bit harder to clean the small wound. "No, I didn't wear the orthopedic shoes either. I was in scrubs most of the time. And is that your way of saying you fantasize about me?"

"Maybe once or twice, darling," he said, grunting as she wound the bandage too tight around his finger. "Okay more than that."

Her lips pursed carefully, she looked up toward the moonlight. "I'm going to go look at the storage boxes on deck. Maybe your brother has one of those electric lanterns or something."

"Find anything?" Liam asked, climbing up after her a few minutes later. "I'm afraid I found the problem downstairs. It's a blown fuse. I'd fix it, but I'm afraid I don't know what size to get and my brother seems to have no spares."

"Other than these sparklers and a flare gun, I'm afraid we're out of luck," she said, pushing her hands on the cushioned top of the storage bench for leverage to stand. "So much for good ideas."

"Sparklers?" he asked, pulling the package from her hand. "These are little more than wound wire. What are they supposed to be?"

Elsa explained to him how the sticks worked and that she and Anna had loved them as children. "Every 4th of July my parents had this big party. Anna and I would sneak off and place them in holes in the ground to make a pattern. Then we lit them and were so excited to see our art in lights like that."

"Not a holiday I celebrate, love, but I'd do anything that makes you smile like that," he said, touching her cheek and savoring the milky softness and warmth. "So how do we light these things?"

"The normal way," she said, revealing the lighter that she had found. "I can't believe your brother had these. Sparklers are one of my favorite things," she said, gazing at him through the bright light.

Liam had just lit his own when he absently answered, "Anything for you, lass." He stopped cold, realizing what had just slipped.

Elsa stared at him for a moment, his comment echoing in her head. She saw his eyes widen, caught his startled and scared gaze through the flying golden sparks. She had to know, she decided. She had learned how quickly life could change, how suddenly everything could be taken away. Slowly, her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. She deserved to find out – they deserved to find out. Carefully, she leaned toward him, her eyes never breaking their stare.

He had a breathless few seconds waiting for her reaction, holding her eyes with his through the golden haze of flickering light. When she leaned toward him, moistening her lips, he was sure his lungs had frozen. Slowly, he moved towards her, too, their gazes locked in complete harmony. Then her soft, warm lips were on his, the hiss of the sparklers matching the heat growing inside of him. He tasted her gently, pulling at the plump flesh with his teeth, then laving them with his tongue. Her mouth was intoxicating, her quiet moan an exotic sound in his ears.

Elsa melted into the soft pressure of his lips, her mouth conforming to his movements. The sparkler was held in her hand, forgotten, as the lightning quick mercury of need speed into her veins. Finally, with excruciating tenderness, Liam stroked his tongue over hers. The sparkler popped loudly in her ear and hissed as it burned. Elsa thought it was her heart and her soul bending. Readily, she tangled her tongue with his, their kiss becoming more demanding even as it stayed gentle. Liam slowly ended their embrace, pulling away carefully as he dropped a final, tender kiss on her now swollen lips. Elsa stared at him, her mind hot and vivid. Finally, she reached up with her empty hand, stroking his cheek. He smiled gently, then pulled her against him. Elsa rested her head on his shoulder, sighing as the dazzling twinkles sparkled around them.