Wow – over 100 reviews on Fanfiction. I'm so grateful and thankful for that. My next update may come on Saturday, as I'm headed on a little road trip to see The Dust Storm in Nashville with a friend. And next week I'm headed back to Nashville for a writers' conference. But I promise some updates in the meantime.

Liam ignored the sound of the sea birds making their normal morning noises, his eyes comfortably closed and his arms wrapped around…a pillow. One eye opened and the other as he regarded the crumpled bed linens beside him without much surprise. Elsa, who had fallen asleep cuddled up next to him, was gone. He supposed she had tried to sneak out as quietly as possible since he was now holding a pillow instead of her, but still he felt a bit sick that she had felt it necessary to do so.

For all the cuddling, touching, and kisses between them the night before, he knew deep down that she was not ready to go farther than that yet. So he had kept his own desire at bay and simply held her as the light of the television offered the only real way to see her. While he was under no illusion that she was in some way inexperienced or innocent, he was picking up that she frightened very easily. She wasn't exactly pulling away when he kissed her, even reciprocating a few times herself. However, she did tend to become a bit tense and her muscles tightened in preparation.

Lifting himself up to a sitting position, Liam blinked against the light coming in from the transom windows and saw the mug there on the coffee table with a post it note stuck to the outside. "Wasn't sure when you'd be up, but I thought you could go for a cup. I left the grounds and water in the machine. Just press start. Thanks for the company and support last night. See you soon. XOXO, Elsa."

It warmed him a bit to know that she had not dashed out in a panic, though he was certainly a bit concerned. He went ahead and hit go on the coffee maker before he pulled out his phone to text her and check on her.

Liam: Just checking to make sure you are well and safe.

He knew that if she was asleep she'd text later, but he in some ways hoped that her mind might be on him in some small way. His wait wasn't long as she texted back.

Elsa: Sorry about running out. Anna and I have to meet with Regina Mills. Needed to discuss strategy.

Liam: No worries. Simply checking to make sure I had not scared you away.

Elsa: I'm tougher than you think.

***AAA***

The last student was picked up by 12:33 and despite Killian's offer to buy her and Henry lunch, she kissed his cheek and told him that she needed to get ready for their date. Truthfully she was having one of the few selfishly vain moments in her life and grew concerned that he had now seen her sans makeup and with tangled and knotted hair that could not in any way be considered attractive. It had not helped that he called her adorable when she arrived at the breakfast table set up in the library that morning with her hair in a ponytail, a shirt that proclaimed her to be the world's best mom, her cheeks pink and a bit of the mascara she had not gotten cleaned off the night before was smeared under one eye. Thankfully she had caught that before too long, but still she had wondered how many people noticed. Henry called her out a moment later for smiling like an idiot.

"I am looking forward to it," he told her just before Henry reached over from the passenger seat and bleated out a sharp note on the horn. "See you then."

Henry was already pleading his case for a grilled cheese and soup from Granny's, claiming he was starving and that he needed the energy for that afternoon and evening. She was not convinced by him, but the idea of not having to cook was more appealing so that was where they went. Granny greeted them first, her typical expression that laid somewhere between annoyance and amusement at someone's expense. Henry had already grown above the woman's shoulder and was receiving a hug while Emma got the look.

"Haven't seen you in here in a bit," she said accusingly as she half led and half dragged the still embraced Henry over to one of the tables. "You avoiding me?"

"Why would I do that?" asked Emma, shaking her head at the offer of a menu. "You have the best tomato soup and grilled cheese in town." Her weak compliment did not even earn a smile as Granny barked the order over her shoulder.

Turning to Henry, she mentioned that she'd had a new video game installed and that he could be one of the first to try it out. After a nod from Emma he was off and away, earlier complaints that he was tired forgotten. Granny took the seat he had vacated and yanked the glasses off her nose to clean on the apron. "You're not fooling anyone," she said accusingly. "I know about the date."

Sighing in exasperation, Emma frowned. "Okay I get that this is a small town, but you guys have to quit this. If I don't tell you something, it might very well be because it's not your business."

"I'm not arguing with you over what is or is not my business, but I am going to tell you that you are not fooling anyone and offer my babysitting services. You know if Henry needs a place to stay or something overnight." The woman was still holding those wire rim glasses out as she stared through the lenses for any speck of dirt. "I won't even ask any questions."

Emma lifted her right hand to her temple and rubbed, trying not to think of having a conversation with Granny about sex. "I appreciate the offer," she said in an attempt to end that line of questioning. "I'll…"

"Just keep it in mind," she said with a wink as she pulled herself out of the seat. "You know that I love you and Elsa like my own daughters. I just want you to be happy. And I adore those Jones boys even if they do cause a little trouble from time to time. They are like sons to me. So you can certainly see why I want the four of you to be happy."

Emma accepted the soda that a waitress she had never met before slid in front of her with a slight nod of thanks. "You do realize that as sweet as that is, it's a bit incestuous?"

Granny's laugh rang loud and pure in the diner, causing a few heads to turn. "You have a wicked mind, Emma Swan. I think that's why I like you."

***AAA***

Henry barely noticed when Emma left him at the loft, as David had pulled out some 1980s video game for the computer that had been remastered. He'd never seen such horrible graphics and was already enthralled by the tinny music and pixel images that David was proudly calling the best of the generation. Mary Margaret already had a big bowl for popcorn ready and was telling David that she would order pizza a few minutes after she walked Emma to her car.

"You are changing, right?" Snow asked, her arms wrapped herself to ward off the cold and her lack of coat. "You look cute, but that's not really a date outfit."

Emma's long hair was pulled back on the sides and braided until the golden strands met in the back in a soft waterfall of a ponytail. An asymmetrical white sweater clung to her form and a pair of black denim pants hid none of the curves of her backside or legs. She had paired the outfit with a tall pair of black boots and her favorite red jacket. It was as casual as she felt she dared even with his instructions. "He said to go casual."

"What does Ruby think?"

One foot inside her car and her arm resting on its top, she glowered at her friend. "I can pick out an outfit by myself."

Mary Margaret raised her eyebrows and silently waited for her friend to respond. It was what they all referred to as her teacher look, which always got her students to stop in their tracks or in some cases admit to wrong doing. David had told the others she had used on him a few times to get him to perform chores. Rumor had it that was how she got him to watch any Nicholas Sparks' movie. Emma kind of believed it.

"She texted over suggestions and made me send her a pic," Emma admitted, squinting her eyes closed so that she didn't have to see righteous indignation staring back at her. "She is a designer. Or a waitress with a sewing machine and a dream. I had to get her advice after you spilled the beans about what I'm doing tonight."

"I don't keep secrets from friends. And she really okayed that? I mean you look fine, but it's not really date material." Her pixie cut hair flew up and down as she bounced in an effort to keep warm. "I know. Casual. I want details. I need to know what casual meant. Is it a movie? Are you playing pool? Or maybe horseback riding. That could be so romantic. David took me once." The wistful expression of the teacher was an endearing sight, despite the cold air around them.

"I don't know, but I'm thinking something less outdoorsy than horseback riding. Not only is it cold, but it's dark. I'm not knocking the idea, but I don't think that is his plan." She looked skyward. "I'd honestly rather not speculate."

Mary Margaret opened and shut her mouth. "That's okay. I can be practical. Did you remember a breath mint? What about…"

Emma rolled her eyes dramatically. "I swear to God if you ask me if I remembered to bring a condom, I may have to go to therapy. I don't talk about these things with you." It was true that Mary Margaret was the more romantic of her friends. She was the one who suggested date ideas and helped to pick out the perfect gift for when you were dating a guy only two weeks and his birthday was the day after the second date. She was the one Emma curled up with and watched movies and waxed philosophical that romantic comedies were the reason she had unrealistic expectations of men. Ruby was the friend she talked about condom brands and logistics of spending the night with a guy without having the town see her walk of shame.

"I was going to ask about lip balm and shaving your legs, but now that you mention it…"

"Goodbye, Mary Margaret. Call if there is a problem with Henry." Giving her friend a lackluster wave, she dove into the yellow bug and hoped that the heat would start working before she got home.

***AAA***

Elsa rolled over onto her side and folded the cover of the book back so that it was in half. She already knew that when Anna emerged from her bedroom that there lecture about needing to get some sort of tablet or reading device would commence. Having no objection to them in theory, Elsa was not looking for an argument.

"That one again?" Anna asked, bypassing the couch where he sister was currently residing and heading toward the dining area where the paperwork sat. "Shouldn't we be talking about what Regina said? She's not exactly the easiest to deal with and we need to put our heads together."

"I needed a moment to clear my head," Elsa said, yanking the blanket down from over the back of the sofa. "I have a headache."

"Is that what you told Liam? That's the reason you're not going out tonight?"

Elsa turned the page in her book, sighing. "I get headaches. You know that."

"Convenient," Anna remarked. "You could come out with us. Kristoff and I are going to a sports bar to watch hockey. It should be fun. You need fun. Invite Liam and come on."

Elsa burrowed herself deeper into the blanket. "I think it's too late to invite him out. And I have a…"

"Headache. I get it. You said you did." Looping a scarf over her neck, she grabbed her coat next and tapped her foot impatiently. "So come alone?"

"I'm fine here," Elsa repeated, her eyes scanning the page. She tried to ignore the fact that her sister was staring at her, the silent version of Anna a new change. "Really, I'm fine."

Dropping her own phone into her oversized purse, the younger sister placed one hand on her hip. "No, you're not. You can tell me what's wrong or not, but you're coming with. Now get some shoes on and find your coat. Let's go."

***AAA***

Emma moved the pillow from one side of the couch to the other and then back again, stepping back to inspect her work. She was hardly the type to get nervous about a date. But the fact was that there were butterflies in her stomach the size of bats and that she had caught at least five times herself checking her phone and the one window that gave the best view of where she assumed Killian would park. She even heard something in the hallway outside of her front door and opened it thinking it was a knock. There was nothing there.

He was supposed to pick her up at six, which was still eight minutes away, not that she was looking at the time. At six it was dark since the time had yet to change. At six she would be moving furniture to deal with her nervous energy if he had yet to show up. At six she would be…getting in his car, she realized as the rhythmic knock on her door let the frantic thoughts subside. Her feet carried her to the door faster than she had planned, which made her worry that she would appear too anxious about this. Exhaling, she waved her splayed hands in front of her as if to rid herself of any bad energy, took another breath in, and placed her hand on the doorknob. He knocked again.

Maybe she wasn't ready for this, she decided when she opened the door. Her last actual date where someone picked her up and drove her to a restaurant was with Walsh. That had ended with a confrontation from Zelena. She was not good at this, as her track record would indicate.

"Hi," she said, having forgotten the more flirtatious phrase that she had been planning to use. She had actually practiced it a few times in the shower. She wasn't going to tell him that part.

"Hi," he responded back, thankfully not outdoing her with his more extensive vocabulary. "I brought you this." A single red rose in his hand was jutted out toward her as he smiled nervously. "I choked. I wanted to do something unique and then I ended up getting a rose." His eyes crinkled adorably. "Forgive me?"

"I like roses," she said, wondering if she was honestly going to forget how to talk because this was a date and not just hanging out. This was Killian. They had spent hours cuddled up together and talking about anything and everything. Just a few feet from where she was standing on shaking legs he had kissed her. She was not sure why giving this outing a name and label made it feel like she was going to pass out cold on the floor.

Relieving him of the flower, she waved it under her nose and smiled. "Let me get it some water and get my coat. Still not telling me where you are taking me?"

His laugh sounded a little more relaxed and relieved as he watched her retreat and he stood in the foyer of her apartment. "Not yet. You don't get motion sick, do you? I know you did well on the bus, but I didn't know if…" He looked down at his feet and turned a shade of pink that she had never seen on him before.

"I don't think I've ever been asked that by a date before," she teased, settling the flower into a glass and pulling her jacket off the arm of the chair. No need in telling him that she had placed it there after a few tries in other locations had seemed inadequate.

"I can't believe I was about to discuss your possible propensity toward vomiting." He chuckled, a bit more at ease. "And if I haven't already told you, you do look lovely, stunning really."

"Save it," she said, slipping into her jacket before he had a chance to offer to help her. "If this goes well maybe we go on a date where we have to dress up. You can comment on my beauty then."

He frowned in an almost obscene sort of pout. "And here I had hoped you would compliment my ensemble. I did spend a long time picking it out." He spun slowly in place and she eyed the dark jeans that hung on his hips and flannel shirt that she would have previously turned her nose up at. His leather jacket was worn and looked soft, something she wondered if she would come to know under her hand or with her head on his shoulder or chest.

"Very handsome," she offered, ushering him out the door as he laughed at her simple kudos.

"I know."

***AAA***

Will was not a picky man in many areas of his life. He had never once complained about the grease at Granny's or the fact that her yellow mustard jars boasted a name brand that had been replaced by a store one instead. When Anastasia had begun hinting about moving in together, he had not once complained about the long list of her wants and must haves in terms of their living accommodations. And even their wedding plans were along the same. He simply nodded, had a drink, and told her it was all a great idea. However, the one and only place he currently felt the need to assert his discernable palate.

"I want something more stout than an American beer," he half whined when the waitress, a youngish woman who appeared to frighten easily, sat the towering glass in front of him. "I never order anything from the tap."

The woman's confused expression turned pleading as she spun to face Robin and Liam who were hiding grins. "That would be mine, love," Liam said, pulling the cold beverage toward him. He had not ordered it either, but he knew that there would be no way of appeasing his friend without making the sacrifice. "The ponce is bloody difficult to understand."

Robin accepted one of the lagers as Liam's drink went to Will. The server gratefully ran back behind the bar and out of their way, probably already counting their table as a loss in terms of a tip. The three men soon forgot the issues of mistranslation and settled in to watch the latest match. His insulted palate forgotten, Will was cheering on his favorite team and ignoring the conversation attempts with the other two.

"You could at least tell us that you've gotten in a few practices, mate. Nobody's heard you strum that bass in eons. Might do my nerves a bit of good to know that you have fallen completely out of practice." Liam's face pinched with the sourness of his drink and he placed it aside to remind himself not to drink from it again.

As the players on the screen over the left booth disappeared and were replaced by a car commercial, Will slammed the bottle down on the table with a thud. "Bloody hell, mate. I've practicing. More than you it would seem. You pluck a bass, not strum it, you git."

Robin chuckled, raking a hand through his hair. "Stop being such a nervous ninny," he told Liam. "Will's always flown by the seat of his pants. Remember back in school? He'd never study and still come out brilliantly on the tests just with luck."

"Oi, it's a bit more than luck. I've got me talent and brain power working." Will was right in one respect. He had never let the guys down when it came to music or performing.

"Not to mention your humbleness," Robin noted, looking down at his phone. There was nothing covert about the glance and Liam's pursed lips indicated that he wasn't a bit happy about it. However, in the man's opinion if Will could lose himself to the screen there, he could certainly exchange a few messages without rebuke.

Tapping the table under the phone, Liam called for Robin's attention. "We will discuss that later," he said, his voice deep and almost menacing to the point that even Will brought back around to face the two. Standing up, he was carrying himself to the bar when the anxious server reappeared with a bottle of a pale ale that was more in line with his tastes. Since she was clearly not a woman who was well versed on spirits and such, he was bewildered by this delivery.

"The blonde woman over there sent it," she said almost apologetically, pointing to a booth where Elsa sat with her sister and Kristoff. If it had been a movie she would have been smiling and beckoning to him, but instead she was dragging a chip through what he could tell was guacamole and nodding mindlessly at the hulk of a man sitting there across from her. Her sister, on the other hand, was waving furiously and even half stood in the booth in case he hadn't noticed. Giving a bit of a salute back, he muttered something to his two dining partners about good form and attempted to avoid the servers delivering loaded potato skins and beer lest he be wearing it.

"I take it that you are here for the hockey game," he said when he got to the table.

"Kristoff used to play," Anna supplied, her wide grin growing when she saw that Liam was watching Elsa more than either of them. "He's a bit obsessed."

Elsa's smile, he determined, could only be described as tense when she looked up at acknowledge him and silently tilted her head to gesture his welcome. Kristoff was yelling at the television and then lowering his tone to explain some intricacy of the game to Anna, who humored him with a pat to his forearm. "You got the drink," she said, her face growing pink when she realized that was pretty obvious since he was holding it. "I didn't want to disturb you since you were with your friends."

"She's like that," Anna said conspiratorially. "When I told her to invite you out tonight she swore you already had plans. She is that way, always assuming."

Giving her sister a pointed look, Elsa dragged another chip through the green colored dip and then laid it aside. "I'm right here," she reminded her sister. "I just thought you might be too busy for a last minute invitation to watch a sport that I believe you weren't that interested in last night."

Aghast at her sister, Anna snatched the chip out of her hand and chomped down. "You should join us," she said, ignoring Elsa's quick shake of the head. "Kristoff would love to have some more male company around." She dug her elbow into his side to illicit a quick agreement. "And I know Elsa likes spending time with you."

Liam studied Elsa's face, finding her smile and eyes to be hiding something. "I would enjoy it, no doubt. But I do have those two wankers to get back to and a match to watch. I do thank you for the drink though, Elsa."

She let out a long sigh. "I saw that you had that awful stuff on tap. This is much better."

"Aye, you know me better than you think." He raked one solid hand through his hair, glad that his latest trim has left him with thick waves instead of the curly mop he used to have as a child. "The match is just starting and my mates seem a bit preoccupied. Perhaps we could have a drink together?"

Without bothering to gain a supportive smile from Anna, Elsa slides out of the booth and gestures toward the heated patio. There is something disconcerting about eating outdoors and feeling the heat of the strategically placed devices. However, it is quieter out there and much more comfortable. Than trying to talk over the various sporting events.

"Elsa," he said when they dropped into two seats closest to the water. He can see Killian's cottage in the distance, though that's only because he knows the scape now. "I don't want to push, love, but I feel like you might not want to pursue whatever this is. I'll admit to having a bit of a fragile heart, but I'm a perceptive lad when it comes down to it. Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?"

Her hand gripped her drink tightly, so tightly that she feared she might break it. "You haven't done anything, Liam. This is me. I don't do fast or close all that well."

"And we have moved in that direction rather quickly," he mused, realizing that she was not yet looking him in the eye. "My apologies."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she told him, looking almost tearful as she reached over to grab a napkin that she used to wipe the condensation from the side of the glass. "I do like you, Liam. And when I'm with you, I feel like you're a great guy and I have fun. I like being with you."

"I have a feeling there is but coming in here…" His brow furrowed and his hackles raised as he realized her tone was deliberately calm, a bad sign in such matters. "Bring it on, Elsa."

"I am not sure I understand why you like me," she said hurriedly. "God, that sounds so dumb. Liam, you've met my sister. She's cute, funny, so much fun to be around, and has a million and one friends. I'm not like her." She wrinkled her nose. "She's always had guys falling all over themselves to date her. Even before she was old enough, she would get calls and beg me to tell our parents that the boys were calling for me." Her face grew warm as she lifted her eyes to finally meet his.

"I can't say that our circumstances are all that different in that regard, Elsa," he said, breaking the momentary silence. "Killian is not quite as…" He paused for the right word. "Perky and optimistic as your sister, but he was always quite popular and much more the social charmer than I was. Perhaps it has to do with being the younger sibling, not bearing that responsibility that we always had to do. It took quite a while of my living without him before I realized that I was a person beyond just Killian's older brother."

She let her lips twitch upward in a bit of a smile, soft and unsure as she blinked back at him. "You know it does sound like we might have that in common. But for the record, I think of you as Liam."

"Aye," he said, matching her unsure smile with one of his own. "And I think of you as Elsa. And perhaps we have moved a tad bit faster than normal what with the molly coddling from the Widow Lucas, but I do quite fancy you, love. And I suppose that is a trait I have in common with my brother. I do tend to act quickly when I aim for what I want." He reached out to where her hand was toying with the damp napkin, covering it with his own. "And as for why I like you, Elsa, I would think that is obvious. I'm not sure what is more remarkable, your wit, your talent, your beauty, your impeccable taste in drinking companions this evening, and your wonderful heart. I could go on with my list, but love, you do appear to be blushing under all this flattery."

Her breathless laugh was barely heard over the noise from inside. "I wasn't fishing for compliments, so you know."

"I think you know just what you're doing," he chided back. "And if you wish me to be more…"

Her freehand reached to cover their entwined fist. "I don't. I'm sorry I freaked out. Forgive me?"

"As a beautiful lass said to me, you have nothing to be sorry for, Elsa. And I do try to follow the cues of beautiful and intelligent women." He winked, taking a swig from his drink. "But what do you say we let you set the pace. I don't wish to ruin whatever chance we have at this because I was too hurried." He tilted his head toward the door. "We could go sit with your sister and get a lesson for me on hockey. I suppose being so close to the border of Canada that I should learn about it."

Pulling both her hands back, she sat quietly and thoughtfully. "And I was about to ask for a lesson on soccer. Or football is it?"

"Aye, it is that. I wouldn't want those two blokes to insult you in some way. Will is a bit of a wanker and could fool most people into thinking he was raised by wolves most days, but if you think you can handle him."

"As a very handsome man said to me earlier, 'bring it on.'"

***AAA***

Killian pointed the jeep northward on the two lane road that ran along the coastline. "We're in for a bit of a drive. Since you are the professional, love, will you man the radio? I trust your good taste."

She eyed him suspiciously, her fingers gliding over the console buttons until she settled on a quiet jazz station. "Should I be worried that you're taking me out of town?"

He had thought quite a bit about where to take Emma for their date, wanting to impress her and show her a good time. The usual suspects of dinner, dancing, or a movie had come up a million times. He'd read reviews and even googled such things as good first date options. None of the ideas were bad exactly, but none of them screamed out perfect for Emma. Liam told him more than once he was putting way too much pressure on himself, which was probably true. But when he thought about what he wanted, all he could think of was the way she had smiled and even laughed freely as challenged him in that silly board game. She wasn't the talent scout and mom. She was just Emma, which he found most beautiful of all the sides he had seen of her. If he could come up with a plan that would illicit such a smile, he was all in for doing what it took.

"Will you at least give me a hint?" she asked, watching him intently as if he was going to mouth his plan to her.

He pretended to contemplate it, beginning and starting his conversation as if he was truly trying to give her the most perplexing clues available. Even while keeping his eyes trained on the road, he could see her frustration growing as she combed her fingers through her hair and huffed. "You really wish to know?"

"Of course," she said indignantly.

"I'm taking you to the boardwalk in Watkins," he admitted, a bit deflated as he navigated around a turn. "I thought that we had such a fun time at your apartment playing that silly game that you might enjoy a bit of fun and activity such as that."

Her eyes that had been scanning both the radio and his profile were now focused on him. "Are you…are you serious?"

"Bad idea?" he asked. "Because I do know this little seafood place…it's nothing special, but the food is fresh and good." He had selected the town nearly two hours away because it was one of the best locations for such activities and it was highly unlikely that any of the parents from Storybrooke would be there, which was a risk closer to home.

"Can we play skee ball?" she asked, her hopefulness shining through a bit. "Maybe even go-carts?"

"I was thinking we could race," he confirmed. His grip on the steering wheel loosened. "Might make it a night of contests. Loser buys the funnel cake?"

"You're on," she said triumphantly, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm good at games, you know? Comes from having a son who I taught to play video games. I am going to kick your butt." Her challenge was adorable, he thought as she continued telling him of her favorite games. When she asked him about one he didn't know, her triumphant squeal of approval echoed in the jeep and her hand flew over her mouth.

"That's why I wanted to do this with you," he admitted as he pulled into one of the parking spots near the restaurant they had picked. No, it wasn't lobster and caviar, but the seafood place had fish and chips that she swore she was going to try. She didn't quite understand his reasoning, looking at him quizzically as she pulled her knit hat down on her head. "You are beautiful when you smile from having fun."

She looked as though she wanted to say something else, to snark about his wanting this to be a cheap date or that he was letting the middle schoolers rub off on him. But she didn't, smiling softly before she leaned over the console to kiss his cheek. "In case I forget, what with my victory dance and all later, thank you."