This chapter was a bit tricky to adapt, as the relationships on OUAT are hard to match up to real life. So suffice it to say I had to make some changes. Yes, Killian was with a woman named Milah. However, I am not using the part where she is Gold's wife or Neal's mother. The age thing just doesn't work here. I hope that doesn't confuse anyone.

I hope you are all gearing up for what looks like a great episode tomorrow night. If we all survive, I'll have another chapter up early in the week. Much love to all of you for commenting, reviewing, liking, sharing, kudoing, etc.

"You're here late," Elsa said, shaking out of her coat as she stepped inside Granny's. There were only a few people inside the diner on a Saturday night, but Liam immediately caught her eye. He was stooped over a stack of notes at the counter, a coffee cup beside him and a half plate of food next to that. "Insomnia?"

"It's barely 10, love," he said, flashing her a smile. "Far too early to declare the night a loss in terms of sleep. I was actually going over a few details of today's auditions."

"See," she said, perching herself on the stool next to him at the counter. "You can be a workaholic when you put your mind to it. Next thing you know, I'll find you asleep with pages of musical notations for hit songs surrounding you."

"Imagining yourself in my bed chamber?"

"Nice thought, but since your bed chamber," she said using air quotes, "is Killian's couch and living room, I think it is safe to say that I've been there."

"And welcome any time, love," he said, leaning in to meet her halfway as they kissed quickly. "So tell me about your recording session. Anything come of it?"

"We laid down some good tracks I think," she said softly, her voice timid as it always was when she felt unsure of herself. "Still plenty to do though, but it should be enough for Regina to give feedback on. Emma seemed pleased until she left."

"I was expecting the lass to put in an appearance at the auditions, but she never showed. I just assumed she had stuck around to work with the two of you." He had just spent the better part of four hours listening to anyone who claimed to be able to play a lick on the guitar. Most of them were better used to air guitar in their bedrooms, according to Will, who had given up after the first 90 minutes and disappeared. Robin lasted an hour longer before declaring father's scheduling issues and ducked out to pick up Roland. Liam had sat there and made notes on the rest, texting his brother to join him and receiving no reply other than an apology.

"Ruby said she was headed over to meet your brother for dinner at someone's apartment," she supplied. "I gather that she and Ruby had a bit of a knock down over her reluctance to date Killian."

"I wasn't aware, but that makes sense, given that my brother looked like hell this morning. She must have said something to him that sent him into a terrible state." He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth petulantly. "He was in such a dour mood that I can only assume some miscommunication or affair of the heart could be to blame."

"Ruby sort of put the nix on any more overt matchmaking. So I guess we have to concentrate on other things." She swayed over a bit, brushing her shoulder against him. "Any ideas?"

"A few," he said. "I think we can certainly distract ourselves and perhaps force my brother to seek comfort and shelter all at the same time." He crinkled his eyes. "You know I don't give up, especially when it comes to my little brother."

***AAA***

David was telling Emma about his latest case, embellishing the details to the point that even Mary Margaret told him to save it for another night. She wasn't pushing her friend, but she was holding her coat and saying that she should probably get going. When David didn't take the hint, she actually stomped on his foot and used the time he was moaning in pain to hug Emma goodbye and remind her that there was a man waiting for her downstairs since Killian had walked out a few minutes before.

There were 18 steps from the landing outside of Mary Margaret's apartment to the front sidewalk. Emma knew this, as she had counted each and every one of them on her retreat from the warm loft to the street below. She had stuck to pretty neutral topics with the three of them, discussing a few musical interests that David had in common with her clients and laughing at Mary Margaret's famous stories of the adventures in teaching.

So when Emma walked out the doors half expecting him to have taken shelter in his jeep rather than stand there in the cold waiting for her, she knew she couldn't continue with mundane topics of conversation. She was trying to think what to say when he spoke first, taking away a bit of that gnawing that she had to start this conversation with an apology.

"I know that it's cold, but perhaps a walk?" His head was thrown back as he studied the night sky with care, eyes darting about in a movement that made her wonder if he was charting a course with astral navigation.

"Ok," she said, managing not to flinch or melt when he offered his hand and lightly but firmly grasped hers. He was correct that the walk was short, only two blocks to the park just outside city hall. More of a pocket park with a playground and gazebo, it was just for show most days and that night was silent and dark. She may have said something sarcastic about the city trying to cut costs and inviting vagrants and pickpockets to which he laughed softly and continued on his determined path.

"Where did your boy spend the evening?" he asked as they crossed over toward the gazebo. "With his father?"

"Granny," she said with a wry little smile. "Neal was busy and Granny offered. I think she was planning on having him work. Maybe he'll bring home enough tips that he can buy that video game he keeps asking me for."

"You're lucky to have so many people who love and care for you both. I know my mother struggled with us growing up and always needed a band of people to help her make sure we were where we needed to be and doing as we should."

"Being a parent, single or with a partner is no easy job," Emma admitted. "I worry every day that I'm doing the wrong thing and will end up scarring him for life. There is a fine line between raising a good young man and turning him into a serial killer."

"I see no signs of psychosis yet."

"Thank God for that."

"A peaceful place in the middle of everything. Amazing, huh?" Gently tugging at her arm, Killian led her to a small stone bench set to the side of the gazebo. "Wait here." He turned to walk behind the white structure. A moment later, the gazebo and its surrounding trees were lit with millions of tiny white lights. It was like magic. "I always thought of these lights as little stars," he said quietly from behind her, "And, since I can't pull a real one down for you, I thought I'd give you the next best thing."

Emma's eyes suddenly began to sting with tears. No one had ever said something so sweet to her. Blinking to clear her vision, Emma said jokingly, "Lasso the moon?" Killian chuckled, walking around to stand in front of her.

"So, you like the classics, too?" he asked.

"Yeah," she answered, "I ended up in a foster home once with an older woman. She was hopelessly addicted to Jimmy Stewart, Clark Gable and Errol Flynn."

Straddling the bench, he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out the phone there. Bringing up some music, he laughed. "Cheesy, right? I'm afraid I wasn't really planning this. I just wanted some place quiet for us to talk."

"Not cheesy," she said, smiling at the song he chose to play first. It was a cover of a Frank Sinatra tune, which was cliché and lovely at the same time. Somehow, sitting here with Killian, surrounded by the gift of "stars," she felt more complete than she ever had. It disturbed her on a level she didn't want to explore. "But why music?"

"It makes the silence a bit more palatable," he shrugged. "Perhaps we won't feel so pressured to say something we regret."

"Like I regret what I said last night," she surmised. "Killian, please know that my reluctance, if you will, is not about you. I am not exactly used to all this. I'm not exactly…I have excuses for everything. I can find a reason to stop myself from wanting or doing. I know it's not fair to anyone else, but it isn't fair to me either."

"Emma, there is nothing wrong with you saying how you feel. I had hoped that you might feel as I did. You don't and that is certainly within your rights. I am the one who owes you an apology for putting you in such a position after we both clearly agreed to keep this as a friendly situation and not one that was romantic."

She twisted the material of her skirt with her fingers, tugging at it as she chose her words carefully. "I'm sorry that I let my fear speak last night instead of being honest with you. Of course I think about that kiss. Probably a little too often. And I don't know how to make this work as just friends because I think we both keep going back to the way that felt. I can't believe I'm about to quote Mary Margaret, but we aren't really doing a good job at being just friends."

His exhalation was slow and created a fog in the air in front of him. "And you're truly fine about…"

"I'm fine," Emma said firmly. "And I would be fine if you asked me out on a date." She smiled as his shoulders seemed to drop in relief and then raise back up in anticipation of what she was suggesting. "Actually, I think I'd rather do the asking."

"Would you, now?" he asked, a bemused expression on his face as he placed the phone he had been holding down.

"Yes," she said with one affirmative nod of her head. "Killian, I'm asking you out on a date. Would you like to go out with me?"

She couldn't help but giggle at the way his dimples deepened with his wide smile, not even noticing that he had yet to answer. When he finally did, she was only a little surprised that his answer was filled with teasing and a little sarcasm. "And who is planning this date, Swan? Surely you have too much work to do to properly coordinate such an event. Perhaps you should leave that to me."

"I didn't realize you like to be in control so much," she bantered. "I can plan a date."

"Perhaps, but I think I might like to do so this time. Compromise? You ask me out and I plan?" He lifted her hand off her thigh, pulling the glove from it and placed his lips lightly to the bend of her knuckles.

"Sounds like a good compromise, but do I at least get a hint about what we're going to do. I mean for wardrobe purposes and all." She tried to appear stern and thoughtful, but she couldn't help smiling back at the mischievous smirk and the way that he had yet to let go of her hand. "I'm sure it will be great."

He chuckled and mocked an exasperated sigh. "You just asked me out fewer than five minutes ago, love. You expect me to have an entire plan all laid out."

She raised both her eyebrows as the color on his cheeks deepened more due to embarrassment than the cold temperature that was surely going to drive them back inside soon. "You did pretty good with this…the lights, the music. I think you might have talent for improvisation."

"Shhhh…" he winked. "Don't tell my brother. He thinks he is the creative genius of the Jones family." The next song began on his phone, a Michael Buble cover of Moondance that made them both hum a bit at the familiar tune. Standing and throwing his leg back next to the other, he pulled her up to standing. "Perhaps a preview?"

Emma laid her head against his chest, absorbing his warmth and listening to the lyrics. Killian spun her, swinging her out then gently back into his arms. Spinning them both around, he began to sing with the song. Emma snuggled back against him, listening as the words reverberated through his chest. His scent surrounded her, invaded her system and fogged her brain. Leaning back, she began to sing along with him.

Killian stared at her as the last strains of the song began its crescendo and then ended. Her deep green eyes were shining with light, her face soft and flushed from their dancing, her full lips curved into a sweet smile. God, he had known she was hot, but until this moment, he hadn't realized just how beautiful she was. Reaching up, he smoothed her loose hair back and cupped her cheek. "I had no idea you had such a gorgeous voice, Emma. Perhaps you should be the one behind the microphone." His gaze stayed intently locked on hers, searching the depths of her soul. He felt her shrug, knew she would be glib about his compliment.

Emma couldn't pull her eyes away from his. She was still just skittish enough, though, approaching his comment with caution. "Thanks, but I'm more of a shower singer than anything else."

"That's a shame," Killian replied, his stare beginning to heat. They stayed tangled with each other, her arms around his waist, his hand on her jaw. The wind around them began to blow, the breeze stirring the trees. Neither noticed. Slowly, with excruciating deliberateness, Killian lowered his mouth. The warmth of his lips lightly brushing hers was like electricity, the charge shooting through her body and out of her fingers and toes. He didn't push, didn't insist on entrance, just gently kissed her, softly pulling on her mouth again and again. Stepping closer to him, she found herself melting into him, her body starting a slow burn that she had never known before.

Killian had meant for the kiss to be soothing, as gentle and understanding as their night had been. But something was different about this embrace; it was, on some level, more passionate he intended. The tenderness he gave to her was returned tenfold. As Emma moved closer, her body slowly dissolving into him, something inside of him shifted, subtly clicking, inexplicably and irreversibly changing his world. Gently breaking away, Killian stared down at her, holding her face in his palm, his breathing ragged and his libido bellowing. "I suppose we just went a little past a preview there," he said, his voice quiet and direct. "Let's get you back to your son."

Emma shook her head slightly, clearing away the need that had begun to block her thoughts. "I guess we should," she said, her voice sounding small and unlike the usually confident sound she emitted. He pulled her back to him, wrapping her carefully in his arms. "Can I just ask you one question? Why me? Why are you interested in me when there are plenty of women who would throw themselves at you in an instant? I don't understand."

"I know you don't," he answered gently, "and that's part of why I am so intrigued by you. I'm not those other guys. I don't want to be. There's something here, Swan, something between us that I can't explain. You are not the only one wondering why we can't take the easy way out here. You aren't the only one feeling frightened and thinking of excuses. Frankly, it scares the hell out of me. But, Emma, I want to know what this is - I need to know what this is, and I think you do too." They stood together, the sound of Don Henley asserting that this was the last worthless evening whirling around them. Separating himself from her, Killian took a step back, his hand holding hers. "Come on, let's get Henry and you can send me on my way to plan our date, love."

***AAA***

"But Mom said I could go," Henry protested as his father led him down the hall toward the music room. Having forgotten his math book that he may or may not have used to prop up a wobbly legged chair, Henry was in desperate need to grab it and complete his homework before the test the next morning.

"And I am saying that we should wait on your math grade before letting you head off on some social event," Neal argued. The juxtaposition of parenting styles was not lost on the man nor the fact that he was being the tougher parent for once. Henry had in the span of two breaths worried that he would fail his math test and told his father that he was going on the annual band retreat that Friday night and wouldn't be back until Saturday afternoon – cancelling out their weekly plans for guys' night.

Henry let out an exasperated sigh as he burst through the double doors into the band room and called out to Killian. "Mr. Jones!" He had remembered to call him that in school, as both Emma and Killian had suggested it might be better to leave the more personal and informal names aside. He wasn't sure what had prompted both of them to talk to him about it, but he wasn't sure that he really minded. "Are you here?"

Killian emerged from his office and grunted out an oomph as Henry ran into him with a sort of high five and hug combination that only a pre-teen boy can do with ease. "Did you forget something?"

Neal stepped forward and gave a once over to the man who he had heard enough about on his visits to Granny's. Emma had not come straight out and mentioned any sort of relationship with him, but she had alluded to it when Neal mentioned his upcoming plans to take Tamara away for a weekend in the mountains. She had said she had plenty to do and that Henry could always stay with Mary Margaret or Ruby if she had other plans. He'd picked up on that wording right away, as she usually said if she had work to do. "Neal Cassidy," he said, sticking out his hand at the last moment when Killian offered his.

"Henry's father," Killian said with recognition, "Wonderful to meet you. Henry's quite the musician. A pleasure to have in class."

Offering a curt nod, Neal turned to stare out at the empty room. "You taught here long?"

Henry rushed up with the book in hand. "Mr. Jones is going to chaperone the retreat next Friday. It's really important that I go." Two pairs of similarly shaped and colored eyes flashed at the teacher expectantly while Killian smiled back at Henry.

"It's a good chance for some of the band students to get to know each other and work together before we begin our spring and summer practices," Killian said. "Henry's quite an important part our team here."

To refer to Neal's stare as being suspicious of Killian would have been an understatement, but he kept his words neutral with only a tinge of disdain. "And he'll be back by Saturday afternoon. Seems a bit short for bonding time."

"Dad," Henry said, perfecting the way that pre-teens and teenagers could turn the one syllable word into multiple ones. "Of course we'll be back by Saturday afternoon. Mom and Killian…" The boy stopped short, shifting his gaze back and forth between his father and teacher. It suddenly dawned on him that his father probably wouldn't appreciate knowing the friendship or whatever it was between the two. "Mom and Killian already talked about it."

"I wouldn't want to take up any more of the students' time with their families than was necessary," Killian explained after a grateful sigh. "I do hope that Henry will be able to join us."

Neal smirked, not missing the uncomfortable way that the teacher seemed to take a step backward when Henry had mentioned Emma. "And my father has approved this little outing? Last I heard he had put the nix on frivolous field trips to save money. He'd rather do that than raise tuition again."

Henry argued that it was not frivolous at the same time that Killian raised a surprised eyebrow at the word father. "Your father is…"

"Robert Gold," Neal said with a mark of pride that usually wasn't there. "Your boss, I believe."

***AAA***

"You have horrible timing," Elsa said with a frustrated sigh. "I was planning on watching home renovation shows, popping some popcorn, and enjoying some wine with you. Instead you're at a cheap motel in New Jersey with my friend."

"Darling, you are adorable when you're jealous," Liam said, scrunching up his nose at the stale air on the hotel room. There was nothing wrong with the accommodations per se, but the hotel was on the older side and could use with a refreshing. "I'm far more interested in this guitarist that Emma has found than the woman herself."

"Still it is strange. I'm tempted to call Killian and invite him over. We can both worry about what the two of you are up to and let our imaginations run wild."

"My brother would be a horrible bore," Liam chided, kicking off his shoes and reclining on the still made bed. "He's had his nose glued to Yelp and a half dozen other sites trying to plan the perfect date for Emma. I emptied the dishwasher and managed to vacuum up the rug in the living room. The twit barely noticed. Putting far too much pressure on himself if you ask me."

"I think it's cute," Elsa countered. "He's trying to plan the perfect date for them. How adorable that he's nervous about it?"

Huffing, Liam folded his free arm behind his head. "I don't wish to spend this time with you on the phone talking about my little brother." He scooted into a more comfortable position. "Now what are you wearing?"

"Liam Jones!" she admonished. "I'm not having phone sex with you while I'm sitting in the parking lot of the grocery store. You're horrible."

"Wicked," he laughingly said. "That's the word you are searching for, darling." She gave him a run down of the song she was trying to write, him offering suggestions and asking her to sing a bit to him. She offered to let him get ready for his evening out twice but he was determined to keep talking to her, telling her that he was pretty simple in the getting ready department since he only needed to freshen up. He was fully entranced by the rawness of her singing and playing the acoustic guitar with the phone propped on a pillow that he didn't even realize the time when Emma banged on his door.

"Sorry," he muttered to Emma when she looked at him, pointed at the silver watch on her wrist, and then back at him again. "Phone call."

She invited herself in to sit in the one semi comfortable chair as he ducked into the bathroom to take care of his last minute grooming. "How's Elsa?" she called out to be greeted by his raucous laugh and similarly framed question about his brother.

"Touché," she said, picking up a wrinkled guide to the city. "He's not quite understanding why I thought this was so important."

The water started and stopped, the man's voice muffled by the washcloth he had against his face. "My brother will have no issue at telling you that my musical pursuits are the stuff of childish fantasy and not those of a man with responsibilities. He would prefer that I had stayed in the Navy and done my tours as a good sailor. Or perhaps he would like to see me in a corporate position in a suit and tie."

Emma could clearly see that he had a point about Killian who did tend to feel the need for structure and normalcy. Even if she had not known either of them that long, she could see that difference in their demeanor. "He doesn't appreciate your talent?"

"My brother and I formed our band back in high school. Robin and Will are both integral parts of it. As time and circumstances dictated, we have all been away from the music for a bit now. Robin has had to master being a father to a motherless son. Will has his own demons and battles. I was tied up in service and then in finding my way again."

"And Killian?"

Liam emerged from the bathroom. His jeans and sweater were both the same faded blue color that seemed to make his eyes grayer than the shocking azure of Killian's. The heat of the water had made his skin a bit blotchy and red. "I'm afraid that is his story to tell, lass, not mine."

"He sang the other night. His voice…he shouldn't waste it."

There was a sadness she hadn't noticed before when Liam approached his overnight bag and dug through it for a clean pair of socks. He found them and had the second one half way on before he spoke again. "This guitarist that you have found. Can he sing or will we need to be searching for that too?"

"I thought you were planning to do the lead vocals," Emma said, plucking at the hem of her sweater. "You do realize that I'm not really supposed to be doing this. I just happened to hear about this guy and thought you might want to check him out."

"Oi, if he's half as good as you say, we'll be signed with your label in no time at all. Will serve my brother right for abandoning us to our wits."

Emma stood from the chair that she had already decided was dreadfully uncomfortable, smoothing down her own sweater. "That's not a lot of pressure or anything," she said with a slight smirk. "Then let's go listen to this guy."

***AAA***

"And did my brother show you a good time?" Killian asked when Emma had texted to say that they had returned to the hotel. He'd called her immediately, telling her that he'd much rather hear her voice than read words on the screen. "He can be a complete social wanker but I am hoping he at least bought you a drink."

"He did," Emma said with a laugh, collapsing onto her bed and where she could hear the low hum of Liam's television next door. "Had an umbrella in it and everything."

"The lass likes her drinks sweet. I will have to file that information away for later."

"I happen to like a beer or shot every now and then," Emma protested, not wanting to get the label as a high maintenance type with a penchant for weak yet expensive drinks and unable to fend for herself. "But I don't think you called for a report on my drinking habits."

He chuckled. "No, I didn't. I'm actually not sure how to bring this up to you so I guess I'll just shoot and see where it goes."

"That doesn't sound promising," she commented, kicking off one of her shoes with a little more oomph than she meant. It sailed across the room, narrowly missing the lamp and marking the wall as it bounced off. She cringed that there might be someone on the other side of that wall trying to sleep. "Just tell me."

"Henry's father came by today."

Emma shot up on the bed as though she could somehow stop Neal from saying something stupid or silly. "What do you mean came by? Oh God, I should have warned you. He can be such an ass. I mean he's a good guy and great with Henry. It's just…"

"He not so subtly explained about his father being Mr. Gold. As in my boss." Killian paused. If Emma wanted to back away from their date this would be the perfect excuse. She had already said she wanted him to not have any issues with work that dating a parent might cause and he had brushed off the worry. However, this certainly shaded things a bit differently. It had also occurred to him since the encounter that Emma had to know this already.

"He actually said that to you? He barely acknowledges his father except in business situations. He helps to run the family pawn and antique shop but that's about all he does with the family. He even changed his name a few years ago so that he didn't have to be associated with his father any more than necessary." She sighed, her entire body burning with the desire to fix this. "Oh God…our date. You're worried that Neal will somehow influence his father…"

"Love, no," Killian assured her. "I just wanted you to know because I didn't feel I should keep this from you. If Mr. Gold has issue with me then it needs to stay with me."

Her laugh was short. "You don't know him very well, do you? Killian, Robert Gold is a very vindictive man. He's not the type who is a forget about it kind of guy."

"Let us not borrow trouble. I have no quarrel with either Mr. Gold or Henry's father. I just wish to spend my free moments with you or thinking how to woo you on our date. You never said if I gave you sufficient information to plan your wardrobe for the evening."

Her hand reached up to cup the pendant around her neck, the one she had worn for a long time. It would be easy to fall back into her fear that acting on her wants and desires would cause harm to other people. That feeling of being responsible needled its way up inside her. "I can't believe you want me to dress that casually. We're not going to work on your boat or something? I mean this is a date and not slave labor, right?"

"I assure you that it is a date. And I know that you will look stunning no matter what you wear."