Well after the angst of the last chapter, I thought you could use a little fluff and humor. Thank you all for the messages, reviews, kudos, etc. I am glad that you are liking this version of Liam and that Anna is coming off as close to the original (she's hard for me). This chapter is pretty heavy on the Ruby and Emma friendship. I am basing Ruby a little on my best friend Jenny who I have known since college. Jenny is my dance on the tables, go meet guys, drink until 4 am and be hung over together friend. She's also the first one to beat up a guy who dumped me and the first to offer a shoulder to cry on, which is how I've always seen Ruby.

Just a bit of a warning. Aurora makes an appearance in this chapter. This is not how I usually write her character, but you'll see why she was needed when you get to that part.

"Are you sure you are okay with us doing this? I just kind of said yes without really asking you. I can call Zelena and tell her no. I'm sure she would understand." Anna stood in the center of the townhome's kitchen still in her flannel pajamas with snowmen all over them. Her long hair was plaited into two symmetrical braids and her face was clear of any makeup as she sipped milk out of a glass through a straw. Elsa knew that anyone walking into their home would have no problem deciding which was the younger sister.

"I told you that it's fine." Elsa was not quite as pulled together in her night apparel, resorting to a warm flannel gown and a single braid thrown over her shoulder. "You're right. If we can't perform there isn't much sense in trying to keep this recording contract."

Looking as thoughtfully as she could with her straw, Anna waited while her sister added djust the right amounts of everything to her coffee mug. "Would you rather Emma was there. I know she's busy, but we could ask…"

"No, she's doing something with her son tonight and has her date with Killian tomorrow night," Elsa said, blowing softly on the hot liquid. "I can certainly sing a few songs to some drunk bar patrons without Emma holding my hand."

Anna looked thoughtful as she swirled her straw through the milk. Elsa was probably the only one who remembered the day when her little sister declared that she didn't like the taste of the white liquid. Their parents had tried the old trick that it would taste better with a straw. Now grown and with a much more experienced palate, the younger of the two sisters still drank her milk each morning with a straw. "I'm not sure how many will be drunk at 8:30 tonight. It is a bar, but people usually get drunk later don't they?" She bit down on the plastic of the straw and chewed as she mulled that over. "But then again happy hour is at like 5 or something, right?"

"I'm going to be fine. You're going to be fine. We're both…"

"Going to be fine," Anna finished, taking another sip. "I get that you're scared. But I'm going to be there with you. Kris will be there to watch. We can call Liam. I'm sure he'd like to watch too."

Elsa tried to ignore the suggestion and passed her sister to head over to the cabinet. "I'd prefer the smallest audience possible. But maybe. It would be good to have a friendly face." She let her hand hover over the box of cereal and paused. "I should call and invite him, right?"

"That's the spirit."

***AAA***

Things weren't much calmer at Emma and Henry's apartment as the sun was starting to break through the early dawn hours. After a reading assignment had stumped Henry and he'd stayed up half the night with Emma discussing what it was the teacher was truly asking in the comprehension questions, he was listlessly throwing his overnight bag together and rejecting her suggestions for a fast breakfast.

"Kid, we don't have time for bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Your choice is cereal or toast."

Henry's answer was lost between his muffled voice as he dug through a drawer in his bedroom and the loud pounding at the front door. Emma was the more dressed of the two with a pair of yoga pants and camisole. Shrugging into flannel shirt as a jacket, she padded into the living room and threw the door open. "I should have ordered breakfast, but thank you for coming."

Ruby tossed the rolled sleeping bag to her friend and then pulled a large to go bag out from behind her back. "Seems that lover boy already thought of that," she declared brightly. "Emma, I don't know what you're doing, but I should take notes. No guy has ever delivered breakfast for me with a note I might add. I'm lucky to get a piece of toast before having to vacate a date's apartment."

"Well you're usually dodging the guy's wife so there's that," Emma said, closing the door behind her friend who was already on her way to the dining room table. "I didn't do anything to deserve this."

"The wife thing was one time and I didn't know she existed," Ruby announced with mock anger. "And I don't know what you did to deserve it, but he certainly thinks it was warranted." Incredulously, Ruby pulled out a folded sheet of paper and read Killian's note that he knew she would be too busy for the most important meal of the day. "So keeping our tradition of a morning meal, please accept my offer of waffles, eggs, and bacon courtesy of our favorite match makers," she recited like a school child giving a report. "That's so sweet."

"You read my letter," Emma said, not dignifying her friend's assessment of the gesture. "You know how I feel about snooping."

"He called in the order and dictated the letter over the phone to me. I didn't snoop. I even made myself some so I could stick around and help you finish packing." She looked smug as she pulled the foam containers from the bag and began to arrange them. Being such a frequent guest in the apartment, she already knew where everything was and easily got the plates, flatware and cups and mugs. When she even pulled out a container of cinnamon that had been shaved to go over the hot chocolate, Emma's eyes grew wide and confused.

"He thought of everything," she said with a distinct bit of awe in her voice. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about that, as few people took that much time or effort to surprise her in a good way.

"Granny knows what she is doing. And when, Emma, were you going to tell me about this date you have with him tomorrow night?"

Flinching, Emma dropped into one of the seats around the table and stared at the full meal in front of her. "He told you about that?"

"No, Mary Margaret did, but he didn't tell her either. You did when you asked her to watch Henry because Neal can't be trusted not to back out and leave you in a lurch. We're going to chat about that too. But first you're going to tell me why I'm hearing about this from Mary Margaret. If you tell me that she helped pick out your outfit for this date, I'm going to be really hurt." The pointed look that the waitress/designer gave her was only partially teasing.

"I haven't picked out anything because he said it would be casual."

Ruby was left pondering that clue when Henry emerged from his room, still tousle headed and a bit bleary eyed. He was mid-yawn when the sight of breakfast piled high registered on his face and between the yawn and smile he reacted with a single, "whoa that's a lot of food."

Emma yanked a chair out for him and settled a plate into his reach as Ruby tossed him a napkin and told him to eat up. He was already asking where did it all come from as Emma poured some of the rich hot chocolate.

"Ruby brought it when she brought the sleeping bag for me," she explained, shooting her friend a look to go along with what she was saying. Emma had a habit of being sometimes overly honest with her son, but she and Killian had both decided to not play up the idea of them dating with the boy. It was a fine line, as he knew that they were certainly spending some time together and going on a date, but he wasn't aware of the late night text messages or stolen moments. She only hoped that her look would silence Ruby, who could be a horrible liar.

"Just call me the delivery girl," Ruby said between bites. "I'm thinking I should get a tip. How much allowance do you have saved up, Henry?"

***AAA***

Liam's appearance at the waterside cottage was just as rumpled as Henry's as his brother puttered about and threw a change of clothes and a few other essentials into his overnight bag. Not having the added task of packing for a child made his efforts much less stressful than Emma's.

Peering over his brother's shoulder, Liam feigned a pout of disappointment until Killian asked what was the matter. "You ordered breakfast but failed to get me any. I'm hungry over here. I like eggs. I like waffles." Protruding his bottom lip into a more pronounced pout, he contemplated the missing food. "I fancy a little cinnamon in the hot chocolate, but that's it isn't it?"

"Aye, I didn't order it to make you happy, you git," Killian said, slapping down a packet of instant oatmeal and grinning. "I didn't even order it for me."

"You're the git. You order a beautiful lass a breakfast like that and you don't even appear at her door to share in it with her. Bloody hell, brother, you could have at least offered her a romantic breakfast in bed." He wagged his finger at Killian playfully. "Must I teach you everything?"

Killian was busy heating water and pulling bowls out of the upper cabinet. "And what romantic gestures are you throwing about today, Liam? I don't see you doing much to woo Elsa. Have you already tired of her? You've never had much staying power with women."

"I will have you know that Elsa just texted me and invited me to see her and her sister perform. I thought I might pick up some flowers or some such on my way to the Rabbit Hole to watch them tonight." His proud smile fell at the nonplussed expression of Killian turning up the flame on the stove.

"Amateur stuff, mate. Flowers? Chocolates? That's the stuff my students do, not grown men."

"And you're the bloody expert now?" he asked. "You haven't been on a date in ages. And I might add that it won't be very romantic of you to bring her back here with me on the couch or her apartment with her boy in the other room. So your plans include a motel?"

That comment did rile Killian a bit. Pointing to the untidy mess of sheets and blankets on the couch, he frowned. "If you were a good brother, you'd make yourself scarce so that I might invite her back here. However, I am a gentleman and have not even asked you to do that. I plan to woo the woman, not seduce her on the first date."

Not intimidated by his brother's not so veiled slam at the living situation, Liam pour out the dry contents of his oatmeal packet into the bowl. "I think you're just making excuses. If I wanted to invite Elsa back here…"

"You wouldn't dare. You're really going to invite her over to share the couch with you? Are you mad?"

"Well, you won't be here tonight. I could invite her over and use the bedroom. It will be empty after all."

The water ready, Killian poured part into Liam's bowl and part into his own. "I share many things with your sorry arse, but my bed is not one of them. If I come home tomorrow to find out that you had a lass in my bed, I will kick you out and leave you to the street. Brother or no, there are rules, Liam. I am not kidding."

Giving his brother a wry smile, Liam sauntered back to the living room and plopped down on the couch with his bowl. "Might be worth it," he called to his brother who was still hurling threats over the idea.

***AAA***

That Elsa sat just to the right of the makeshift stage in the bar that usually played whatever was on the radio instead of inviting in live acts. Her usually pale skin seemed to glow with the sallowness of fear as she drummed her fingers on the table and watched her sister giggle at something Kristoff had said. This was a bad idea, she thought for the fifth time since she had sat down. Emma had encouraged her to perform a few small venues before they released any recordings, but she wasn't there.

"I think I'm going to get something to drink," Elsa said, assuming that the two lovebirds would not even hear her. "Be right back."

Anna reached out a hand and placed it on her sister's forearm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you. We should be concentrating on the songs and not…"

"Anna, it's fine. I'm just thirsty." Elsa slid away from the two and walked over to the bar. She wasn't much for drinking alone and knew that she did not need to consume too much before performing. Still, it would be nice to have something take the edge off. She was waiting for the bartender to notice her when she felt the arm slide around her and a soft nuzzle to her neck. "I'm assuming you're Liam, but I won't object if you're not. You're too good at that."

Liam laughed loudly, handing her a flower as he waved over the bartender and ordered them both a glass. "Sorry I'm late," he said sincerely. "I could make up a story about traffic or something to that end, but it is much more pathetic than that. I was trying to straighten up my brother's place a bit and the vacuum cleaner ate a bit of the rug. There was smoke and I was afraid to leave it alone."

"You haven't missed anything," she said, waving the tulip under her nose and breathing in deeply. As her eyes flitted over toward him, she noted that there was a vase full of the red, yellow, and pink blossoms sitting there on the bar next to him. "I saved my big freak out for you so you can push me out on the stage like a hero saving the day."

"I'll gladly do it," he said, pausing long enough to push a curl behind her ear. "If it would help I'll sit on stage with you and hold your hand. It might make playing the guitar a bit rough though."

She laughed, dropping her head to his shoulder. Anna and Zelena had told her that the guitar was not necessary, as they had a house band to back them up on the songs. However, the idea of holding nothing in her hand but a microphone frightened her to no end. At least with a guitar she could think about other things and concentrate on strumming out the music while she vocalized. It would not seem quite as scary. "I think I'm going to be okay."

She was okay it turned out. There were a few tense moments, but Anna was more than capable of reading her sister. When Elsa faltered, Anna stepped in and took over the vocals as though that had been part of the plan the whole time. It was doubtful that anyone but Kristoff and Liam even noticed. When their set was over, she couldn't even tell that there was a good amount of applause. Instead she was too busy smiling at Liam and his kind way of taking her hand and helping her off the stage.

"You were lovely," he told her softly when they stepped into the hallway near the restrooms and away from the crowd. "Just lovely."

"It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," she admitted to both herself and to him. "I didn't puke or pass out. So that was something."

He shook his head, still gripping her hand. "Should we get out of here? I'm sensing you don't wish to do an encore."

While he kept his promise to stay out of his brother's bedroom, admitting to himself that he wasn't quite that willing to cross the line, he did invite her back to the cottage where they curled up on the couch watching movies and snacking on a pizza that he picked up on the way back. By 11 that night he could tell she was ready to nod off to sleep. And by 11:30 he was yawning along with her.

"I am usually more entertaining with a lass than this," he teased after she pulled one of the pillows into his lap so that she would be more comfortable laying there. "I was thinking our dates would include more dinner and dancing."

"I prefer this," she told him. She laced her fingers with his and let their joined hands rest down near her stomach. "I can't really curl up with you like this in a club."

"It's also hard for conversation." The movie played on with them both only partially paying attention. There were more interesting things to discuss and concentrate on, especially when Elsa admitted that she wasn't sure if she had ever seen certain movies and he became determined to find them on Netflix. When he admitted that he had never been ice skating, she refused to let that slide and invited him to join her at a rink the very next day.

"I'll gladly go, but I'm not too keen on breaking any limbs."

"You think I can't protect you," she said, smiling up at him. "I'm pretty good at anything on ice. I even tried my hand at hockey."

"I'll bet you looked cute and adorable in all that padding. Perhaps I need that for our adventure. What do you think?"

She called him a wimp and pointed out that his beloved soccer players wore much less in terms of protection. "It's basically the same sport except for the sticks and a puck versus a ball." She tried to seem shocked at the way he huffed angrily over her assessment, reaching up with her free hand to smooth the three little lines that appeared at the bridge of his nose.

"I can see that we'll have to include a bit of football as part of your education too." He bent at the waist, kissing the tip of her nose as she squealed half in surprise and half in delighted glee.

***AAA***

"Phillip Jr. just loves your class," Aurora said to Killian when the group had stopped for dinner that evening. It had been a long bus drive with rowdy children and parents not too sure on the chaperoning duties. Killian stopped to talk to each one, helping them out by introducing them to the students they would be supervising. It appeared that Emma was the last one on his list to talk with about what was expected, which would have been fine if the mothers didn't seem to want to chat about anything and everything with the teacher. "He talks about it all the time."

"He's a fine lad," Killian said with a smile that if Emma had interpreted it instead of been looking at her plate she would have appreciated more. He was clearly trying not to point out that the boy he'd just called a fine lad had two straws up his nose and was mixing up a walrus with a seal by clapping his hands together and making a honking noise. "Very mature for his age."

"That's great to know," the woman said, leaning in closer and propping her elbow on the table to balance. "His father just isn't around that much. It's so hard to raise a boy on my own practically."

Emma resisted the urge to gag while Aurora made herself sound like a true single parent. She and her husband were still married. While he was a workaholic, Aurora spent most of her time at the country club and playing tennis in the local competitive league. Phillip Jr. was being raised more by a nanny than either of his parents. He was also being raised as a jerk, if she was being honest.

"You are the one having date with him," she reminded herself when it took a second longer for him to back away from Aurora's touch than she thought necessary. Thankfully she had her son to worry over since he was currently chomping on his fourth piece of pizza and usually complained of stomach pains after three. She wasn't wanting to embarrass her son, but she also knew that curling up into a ball and moaning all night was not going to help in any quest for popularity.

She was weighing her options on what to say to him when her phone chirped. It was, of course, Ruby with a request for an update.

Ruby: So how's it going? Have you two snuck off to make out yet?

Emma: If we had, I wouldn't be answering you now would I?

Ruby: Testy. You'd feel better if you did. He's hot. I know you are tempted.

Emma glared at the phone and then back up at the way that Aurora was laughing. It was clearly a staged laugh, as she was doing it in a way that seemed to highlight her low cut blouse and the cleavage that was inappropriate for chaperoning a trip. Hardly a prude, Emma was fighting back the urge to throw the table cloth over the woman. Or maybe it was the fact that she was pointing the rather ample chest at Killian for his benefit that bothered Emma so much.

Ruby: Are you there? Are the kiddos acting up?

Emma: Sorry I was watching something and couldn't take my eyes away.

Emma dared another look over in that direction and felt her skin grow hot as he smiled in response to something Aurora was saying. Those dimples that she thought were so cute flashed in a way she wished was reserved for her. However, she was sitting there witnessing it and passing napkins over to the boys around her. To top it off she had dropped a dollop of sauce onto her sweater. Using water from her glass and her napkin, she had cleaned up the mess, but it now felt damp and stiff on her skin.

Ruby: So who is flirting with him? That's it, right?

Emma: Can't you be wrong for once in your life? Your ability to read into situations is freaky.

Ruby: Who?

Emma: Aurora

Ruby: Oh. Her. I don't like her.

That was the thing about Ruby, Emma thought with a laugh. Ruby was always blunt and did not pull punches. She offered no reasons for her dislike, though Emma clearly knew the background. Ruby and Aurora had gone to design school together. There had been some drama over a few similarly designed pieces and Aurora claimed innocence despite Ruby's insistence that they were copies of her own work.

Emma: That doesn't help. I have children to manage. I don't need to sit here hating her.

Ruby: You're actually jealous? You really do like him, don't you?

Emma: Not helping.

Ruby: If you were to go to the restroom right now, would you have to walk by them?

Emma: No, but I think my locker is over there. Seriously? Are we in high school?

Ruby: I'm trying to help. Choice number two. Flirt with someone.

Emma: Who?

Ruby: One of the dads? Not one of the kids. That's sick.

Emma: Jefferson is here.

Ruby: Perfect. He's single too. Unlike Aurora.

Emma frowned as she looked over at the father of one of Henry's classmates. The man was taller than most men and certainly handsome with his chiseled features. She had dated him very briefly after his divorce from his wife, but things ended pretty quickly when she realized he wasn't ready for anything other than a casual fling and she wasn't ready to be someone's rebound. He was leaned over talking to his daughter, a pretty blonde who often competed with Henry for first chair among the trumpet section. Jefferson caught her looking at him and smiled warmly. She didn't return the gesture and looked back at her phone.

Emma: Bad idea. I can't fake it.

Ruby: Because you like Killian?

Emma: Because I'm not an actress.

Emma was not the only mother chaperoning the overnighter with the music students, but she wasn't sure she felt that at ease with the other two women, including Aurora. Mary Margaret had once pointed out that Emma tended to befriend other single women and men, as she was more comfortable with them than the other parents. Perhaps it was an age thing, as Emma was substantially younger than the other parents of Henry's classmates. Sometimes she wondered if there was some truth to that, as she did find herself feeling a bit inadequate when she watched how organized and mature these other parents were with schedules and everything else.

Thankfully Killian was much better at that sort of thing. He had purchased matching t-shirts for the kids that had their names on both the front and back. Each chaperone was assigned four students to watch and even their snacks and meals were color coded. She got to know her group on the bus ride in Portland, ME where the group stopped for pizza before heading to a free concert by the state's orchestra.

When Killian had proposed the idea, Emma wasn't so sure that the boys in her group would sit still that long. However, he had created a visual scavenger hunt for them and they were keeping their eyes alert for certain instruments, signals, and cues. Being as competitive as boys that age could be, her four charges, including Henry, were bound and determined to find as many of the things on their list as they could.

It was during the third song that Killian switched seats with one of the students to Emma's left and situated himself beside her. Grinning like he was the same as Henry and his friends, he leaned over and asked if she was enjoying herself.

"You shouldn't be talking," she hissed back at him. "You're setting a bad example."

"And you're adorable when you're jealous," he countered, his voice low and breath warm against her ear. "I wasn't even paying attention to her. When she was talking and asking me to tutor her son, I was thinking about you. I was thinking how I can't wait to be alone with you."

A grin crept onto her face that she quickly turned into a more sour expression. "Bad example."

Even that slight reprimand did not dissuade his smile or his whispered attempts at making her join his relaxed state. When he noticed Phillip Jr. using time honored technique of yawning and stretching his arm around the shoulders of a girl in another group, he practically laughed aloud and pointed with his prosthetic hand to the sight. "They learn young," he said. "But since his mother and her father are both chaperones, I'll leave it to them to settle it."

Her lips were in a firm line, but she could feel them shaking with the effort not to grin back at him. "Wimp," she told him, rolling her eyes as he maneuvered similarly and rested his arm on the back of her seat. He wasn't exactly hugging her to him, but the warms of his arm was clear against her shoulders. "Seriously?"

"What? I just needed to stretch, love." He turned his face back to the stage and half closed his eyes as he listened intently to the music. She could not help casting a few glances at his profile, appreciating his strong jaw that she had a strong urge to run a few fingers along. However, she was not ready for the warning glances of the other chaperones or the disgusted expressions of the students. So she kept her hands to herself and tried to keep her attention focused on her four charges instead.

He behaved himself for the rest of the concert, only occasionally letting his hand drift a bit toward her. At one point his fingers brushed where her shirt started at her back and trailed upward on her neck. She didn't shift right away, letting the pads of his fingers trace a path up under her ponytail. When Henry leaned over to ask a question, Killian pulled back just enough that he was no longer touching her.

It was not until the bus ride back to Storybrooke that he approached her again. The lights over the seats were dim and there was no organized activity other than a few quiet conversations between seatmates. Henry had joined his friend Matt and the two were looking at screenshots on a cell phone of some new video game. She could hear the occasional words like power pack and extra lives drifting into the air as she counted off her four charges before taking a seat herself. Two of the moms were sitting together up ahead and another was already drifting off to sleep with a pile of coats as a pillow. Killian didn't make a big deal of dropping down into the aisle seat next to her.

"That's the hard part over," he said, leaning over toward her ear conspiratorially. "Now we just keep them from killing each other."

"And destroying public property, getting jacked up on sugar, or…"

"You are one of those glass half empty types, aren't you, love?"

Her reply was lost in a yawn as she turned a bit sideways in the seat and tried to get comfortable. His knee sliding up under her bent legs was tempting as he pulled her legs into his lap and asked if that was more to her liking. She wanted to tell him she didn't mind at all, but the thought of some 12 year old child catching sight of her snuggled up with the teacher and how that might lend itself to teasing for her son made her resist. "Not exactly covert there, Mr. Jones," she said, poking a finger accusingly into his shoulder. "But you are comfy."

His mischievous couldn't be missed in the glow of the passing headlights as he pulled his wool coat off the back of the seat and covered both their laps with it. She said nothing, only stared as he hid from sight the fact that she was half in his lap. "You looked cold. I didn't want to watch you shiver."

She shifted again so that it was even less obvious and bit back a sigh as he dipped his hand along the curve of thigh. "So this date," she said, keeping voice even despite the softness of her tone. "You want me to dress casually. Are we talking…"

"It bothers you to not be in charge, doesn't it?"

"I like to know what is going on," she protested. "That doesn't make me a control freak." She pouted, turning her head toward the window and the darkened landscape.

"I didn't accuse you of being a control freak." He chuckled, squeezing the bit of flesh just behind her knee. "Let's just leave it at you should dress comfortably. You may need to be able to move a bit and not be hindered by tight material. Does that help?"

"Jeans and a sweater?" she asked skeptically.

"You will look lovely, no matter what."