Another chapter and still not much Elsa/Liam. I promise big things for them in the next chapter or two. However, there is some Captain Swan and a bit of Captain Cobra.

Liam arrived back at the cottage long before Killian had the night before, but he was much more bleary eyed than his brother when the two went for what was supposed to be a morning run along the waterfront yet didn't happen until late afternoon. Though both men liked to keep in shape and spent a fair amount of time working out, it was rare for the two of them to spend any substantial time together doing such activities. Perhaps it was the rigidity of a morning schedule of physical activity that reminded them both of naval days that kept them from it, but either way it was rare.

"So it was worth the effort?" Liam asked, his legs pumping as he ran in place and allowed his brother to retie his shoe. "She enjoyed herself?"

"You ask that as though you wish to take credit for it," the younger of the brothers accused. The sun was practically blinding off the snow that was banking along the path. In London the snow was rare, but it usually turned to a gray and ugly slush soon after it fell from the sky. Their sneakers were already damp from it and both had stopped on occasion to shake the white flakes from their heads. He tried not to think of the kiss that he and Emma had shared the night before just outside her apartment building as Henry was already inside and on his way to bed.

The flakes were falling steadily and as his eyes closed he could see one of the snowflakes fall along Emma's lashes. There was something magically pure about a kiss in the fresh falling snow that had made its way into his very core as his mouth closed over hers and her lips moved in a slow pattern against his. The warmth of her breath on him and the way her hand splayed over his chest and the other toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck warmed him with feelings he did not want to dare name or even consider. He could taste the sweetness of the chocolate and spiciness of the cinnamon that he wondered if he would ever taste again without thinking of her. Her eyes stayed shut as they broke away, a sigh on her lips that seemed to tremble as she finally smiled at him and thanked him for a wonderful date.

"Bloody hell, we'll never get our rates up if you stop to reminisce every few meters." Liam broke out into a steadier pace and gave no chance for his brother to do anything but speed up along the route. It was not that Killian was slower, just that Liam used his head start and longer legs to his advantage.

When they finally did stop, Liam looked at the blinking neon sign and groaned. "Granny's okay with you?"

"It sounds inevitable in this town."

***AAA***

Henry smiled at his mother when she emerged from her bedroom a bit later, leaving Ruby and the newly arrived Mary Margaret to hash out some of the finer details of dating when one woman wanted commitment and the other wanted nothing of the sort. Looking world weary and a bit agitated, the blonde mother flopped onto the couch next to her son and squinted at the scene on the television.

"You spent all your points on a crossbow?" she asked. "Why not the machete or the semi-automatic?" So what if none of the parenting books that she had read even mentioned playing video games with your child, Emma was happy that he still wanted to do such things with her. "You aren't going to get to level 18 like that."

"I spent the majority on magical potion points, but the crossbow was a good decision. It has more accuracy than the gun and goes more distance than the machete. You should consider it for your avatar." He said all of this without a single glance in her direction.

She considered telling him to blink, but instead she grabbed the second controller. "What about a round of that racing game with your mom? I could go for a little competition."

Henry pressed a few of the buttons on the controller and sent the man on the screen through a hallway while expertly dodging flying objects and dangers. His own body shifted and jerked as if that might help the onscreen character do the same. "Is that your way of saying you want to talk about something major?"

He was her son, she thought with a wry laugh. She too was usually suspicious and wondered if she was reading people right when they were being nice to her. "I actually just wanted to play the game, but if you're too busy…"

Considering the request, he finished saving his game and sent the whirring machine back to the title menu before selecting another of the games. "I guess I can fit you in," he said. "It's after 4 and you said no trumpet practice after 4 on Sundays. Something about being able to show your face in the mailbox area without having to apologize for the noise." Thankfully he did not seem too offended by this.

"You get plenty of practice time with your teacher and at other times. Not to mention there are those finger exercises you could be doing." Her sock covered feet rested on the table, earning an eyebrow raise from her son who usually was told not to be that comfortable.

"Speaking of Mr. Jones," he said slowly, his lips quirking up into a smile that seemed older than his years. "Did he say anything about my chances at the audition? Last night I mean."

Lips pursed as her yellow race car slid a bit on the first curve, she avoided the blatant goading by her son with her usual weapon of sarcasm. "You do realize that it was a date, right? I don't typically discuss you and your talent on a date."

"But he's my teacher." Henry swept his car in front of hers and gained the lead. "He didn't have anything to say about me?"

She bore down on the controls and attempted to make up some ground. "It was a date, Henry, not a parent teacher conference. I think you were mentioned twice. Once when I said you would have enjoyed where we went and the other was about picking you up from the loft. Sorry but we had better things to talk about than you and the trumpet."

Tongue sticking out the side of his mouth, Henry concentrated all his energy on the screen. "Like what? Love?" he asked, eyes shining with a combination of mischief and maybe an inkling of disgust. "That's what people talk about on dates, right?"

"What kind of dates have you been going on, kid? Is there something I should know? No, we talked about a lot of things. Boring things. Adult things. Not about you or about love as you put it."

He nodded as though he expected that answer. "So you're not in love with him? See Violet says when people are in love that they think about each other a lot and spend a lot of time talking about all sorts of stuff. She said that her father's been dating someone so she knows what she's talking about."

Looking at her son's self-important expression as he continued the course around the race track, Emma groaned. "And who is Violet? Do I know her?"

"She's in my French class at school," he said as though she should have guessed. "She's just a friend."

"And you two are getting close?" Emma queried, her eyebrow arching upward in her best silent glare. "Close enough that you're discussing your parents' dating lives? I hope you're including your father's dating on this too. His is more interesting than mine usually." She laughed in what she hoped was not a bitter way, as she did try hard not to show her disillusionment toward him and his habit of falling hard and fast for women. Having been the subject of that quick and immediate affection, Emma did have a hard time believing any of his relationships to be the real deal.

"Mom," Henry said, pulling out her three letter moniker into multiple syllables. "There's something I need to tell you there, but not until later. I noticed that you didn't deny that you're in love with Mr. Jones."

"Henry, Killian and I just went on our first date last night. We are talking about going out again, but seriously, kid, nobody's talking love here. I know you aren't that used to my dating, but it's not all romance and flowers like in the movies." She tried to ignore his brief glance away from the screen to the rose over on the table. "Dating is about getting to know someone. That's it. Killian seems like a nice man and we have some things in common. We even had a good time last night. So yes, we might go out again. Does that bother you?"

The lead of the little blue car that was Henry's racer lengthened substantially as he all but pulled away from his mother and the rest of the pack. "I like him," he agreed. "He's cool for a teacher."

"I suppose he is."

***AAA***

Emma finally got an opportunity to talk with Elsa and Anna about their Friday night performance on Monday morning in her office. Both women sat looking rather contrite as Emma explained that doing such things was not against their contract, but did not bode well for the situation either.

"Why would Regina care about such a small thing?" Anna asked. "It's not as if we went on tour or something."

Closing her eyes briefly, Emma tried to will away the crick in her neck from having slept uncomfortably on the couch after Ruby and Mary Margaret had commandeered her bedroom for their deep discussion of commitment and relationships. After they had both pounced on her for more details of the date with Killian, she had feigned a headache and left them to their Cosmo like discussion in peace. The retreat to the couch was not all bad, as she, Henry and Killian hate watched a show together with text message commentary and the two adults even had a brief conversation after she had dared to insult one of his favorite characters. However, sleeping there on the couch even after Ruby and Mary Margaret retreated meant that she had slept at an odd angle. She was paying for it now.

"I don't doubt your intentions," Emma said, pressing her fingers into the sensitive flesh under her hair. "But I know Regina. This was not in her plans or even her suggestion. You're going to have to do your best to appear like you're sorry. I'm going to have to pretend like I knew about this."

Shooting a worried look to her sister first and then to Emma, Elsa looked ready to either cry or scream in anger. "Zelena arranged it."

Scoffing at the name of the other boss of the company, Emma tried to find a way to explain it to these two young women. "That's not going to win you any points when it comes to Regina. She's not a fan of anything that her sister proposes, especially when it comes to her artists. I'll deal with it though. Looks like we're going to try to release your first single next week on download. I'm sure that Regina's got some ideas about a few local shows for you."

"I still don't see why this was such a bad idea." Anna stubbornly stomped her foot on the floor. "We got publicity."

"Publicity," Emma said, pointing at the newspaper article, "that called your singing strained and in need of auto tuning at parts."

"It said that?" Elsa asked, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Her eyes that had previously seemed conflicted were brimming with tears.

"Elsa, it's not horrible, but this is why you need to clear these things with me. We need to make sure that the locations are good. We need to include the band and check on acoustics. You need me there and a publicist to deal with media." Emma tempered her tone to sound comforting, but it was clear that Elsa was in panic mode. "You are incredibly talented, both of you. But you've not been in this business long enough to know this stuff. So trust me. Confide in me. Talk to me. Don't hide this stuff."

"We knew you were busy with your son," Anna defended, giving her sister's arm a squeeze. "And so we didn't want to burden you with all this. We thought it was a good idea. I'm so sorry. We're both sorry. You're going to forgive us, right? I mean, this won't ruin our friendship or the contract? You aren't going to sue us, right? I don't even know how that would work. Would it be like Judge Judy or something? I don't even know how that would work."

"It's going to be fine," Emma said, feeling a bit breathless with the verbal onslaught of Anna's stream of consciousness. The woman was beautiful and talented, but she was a bit exhausting. "I'll take care of it."

"How? Regina is going to be upset, isn't she?" Elsa asked. That was the big question. Regina was known for dropping acts she saw as troublesome or not worth the effort. She had on occasion suggested that acts look for other labels strictly because she was not interested in representing those not serious about their work or known for being divas.

"Leave it to me," Emma consoled lightly. "Just promise me that if Zelena or anyone has some major idea for you that you'll let me know. I don't need to be blindsided."

***AAA***

For a music classroom, Killian's class was pretty quiet on Monday afternoon as they took a multiple choice test asking them to identify various instruments and musical notations. While he appreciated the break, he had to admit that the silence did seem to give way to thoughts of Emma that probably were not all that wholesome for the setting. He wasn't too proud to admit he had texted her a few times that day, careful not to play up the attention too strong. Thankfully he responses were pithy and flirty, which was making it easier to cope.

"Mr. Jones," one of the students from another class said, knocking softly on the partially open door. "Mr. Gold asked that you come by his office during your planning period."

He thanked the gangly boy with a nod and smile, wondering why he was thanking someone who was acting as an agent for the grim reaper. The school's principal was hardly a man for social calls and never one to bring someone in with a compliment. It had to be bad news with a confrontation. He supposed it was inevitable what with him essentially taunting Neal's warning and continuing to build on his feelings for Emma. The older man had laid down so many rules even at the first day of orientation that Killian knew it was only a matter of time before he was caught breaking one. That was certainly the case when it came to Emma. Henry was his student and she was a parent. Even schools with liberal policies would frown on it.

Dating Emma was certainly a risk, even if they didn't necessarily flaunt it in front of the whole town. Dates out of town or clandestine locations would only go so far. They could sneak away for weekends or even park blocks away from each other's homes, but it would still just be a temporary fix. At some point Mr. Gold would confront him.

What was the solution? He could quit his job and find another, perhaps in a school nearby or even teaching music lessons through one of the shops. But that did seem a bit extreme for a situation where they had only been on one date and shared a few kisses. Still he didn't like the alternative of ending things over the threat.

It seemed odd to think that he was about to have to fight for a job that had been a fall back for him. His musical ability had put him on a fast track for a career in that industry. It was something that Milah had pushed for all along. She had even admitted one night that she had fallen in love with him based on his talent before really getting to know him. She was in love with his potential, he realized a bit too late. Emma seemed different, as she was willing to accept him as the teacher who had given up on dreams of more. She did not seem to view that life as one of failure or even settling.

He was still mulling this over when he found himself in front of that door 45 minutes later. Sitting there in a chair across from a man who seemed to wear a sneer as his natural expression, he felt like he might vomit from the thought of having to defend any of it.

Mr. Gold's hair was a bit longer than most men his age would wear it, graying at the temples but still thick and flowing. He seemed to move with an elegance and style that was well beyond the means of a man of his position. However, Killian knew that the school was only one part of his career. The man also owned the town's pawn shop that specialized in expensive antiques and one of a kind items rather than the run of the mill merchandise. Nobody knew exactly how many, but Mr. Gold was only the landlord of a great many rental properties in Storybrooke. His hands were in many things, as was his nose it seemed.

"You're quite the popular teacher, Mr. Jones," the man said getting up from the massive oak desk to walk to a nearby credenza. His assistant restocked the items there frequently, including an always hot carafe of coffee and a few bottles of Pellegrino. In the morning there were buttery croissants and chopped fruit. The afternoon arrangement included a cheese tray with roasted grapes, hard salami, and wheat crackers. Potential donors to the school were offered things from this stash, but Killian received no such invitation.

"I've been here for a short time now."

"Yes, and I often hear how the students adore your classes. Each semester there is concern that not all of them will get into your more advanced ones. That must make you feel quite good to know that you are so appreciated." When Killian said nothing, he sauntered back to the desk and picked up a printed copy of an email as though

"My son has some concerns," the man began, looking down at a single page email purely for effect. "His son, Henry, is one of your students."

"Aye, in my beginning band and orchestra class," Killian answered, unsure if the man could even pick Henry out of a lineup after what Emma had told him.

"And from what I hear you've been spending quite a lot of time with him lately?" He formed this as a question though it was clear he probably had surveillance reports of just how much time.

"Henry's auditioning for the state honor band, which is scheduled for next week. I have been offering him some tutoring in that regard and helping him prepare for it. I included that in my monthly plans that I submit to you so I hope there is no issue there." He tacked this on with the hope that he could lessen the blow of whatever was next, as he was not naïve enough to believe that the man was only concerned about Henry.

"My grandson's schedule with music isn't exactly the most pressing of the concerns, but my son would prefer that he have other outside interests. He seems to think that perhaps you are spending your time with Henry to somehow grow closer to his mother." Mr. Gold stopped pretending that he was reading this information from the page and smiled in that sickeningly sweet way that he normally did. "It's clear that Ms. Swan has spent a bit more time here than normal what with her chaperoning and a few occasions that people have said she was around after school."

"To pick her boy up," Killian reiterated.

"Yes, well, that doesn't usually include inordinate amounts of time inside the classroom. Henry's a bright boy. I'm sure he would be able to find his way to his mother's car."

The point was clear that the older man was waiting on Killian to admit to some impropriety in the band room. However, it was not something that was entirely true. They had not misbehaved on school property at all, especially with Henry just steps away. "I suppose you would like me to speak to her about that?" Killian probed, not really sure what the man's angle was at this point. "Is it not considered appropriate for a parent to pick up her child by walking into the school and retrieving him?"

Mr. Gold's long sip added to the tension of the moment as he eyed Killian over the rim of his cup. Finally he set it in place and curled his hands into a near fist. "I don't think I have suggested any such thing," he said in a fake pleasantness. "You seem quite defensive about this conversation. Are you in some way offended? Have I struck a nerve?"

***AAA***

Emma sprinkled a bit of the chili powder into the pot and then stirred with a vigorous turn of her wrist, quizzing Henry on his vocabulary words at the same time. The air of apartment was a spicy and alluring scent that included fresh bread in the oven and the sauce of the chili bubbling away on the stove. It was hardly a culinary feat, but it was comforting and warm on a cold nearly spring evening. Henry had asked if they could have hot dogs as well, which she was going to prepare next.

"I think that's all of them," Henry told her, peering into the spiral bound notebook that he used to write the words and definitions. Deciding that the assignment was complete, he closed the notebook and tossed it aside as he watched his mother seem to lose something in the kitchen and then find it again. "So what's the deal? Who's coming to dinner?"

"Hmmm?" she asked, poking her head into the refrigerator and pulling out a bowl where she had already mixed the lettuce and various vegetables. "What was that? What's the next word?"

Huffing out his response, Henry rolled his eyes at his mother. "What are you nervous about? Elsa has been here before. She practically lived here when her sister was dating that guy Hans."

Stopping with her spoon in midair, Emma grimaced. "How do you know stuff like that? We told you that Elsa's townhouse was being painted."

"Thin walls," Henry responded as if that explained everything. He might not have understood everything he heard, but he was getting clearer on a few points. Besides, his mother might be able to detect a lie but she was horrible at telling them. If he had to guess, she was inventorying her latest conversations to see if she needed to ground him or send him for therapy with this revelation. "It's okay, mom."

"Thanks for the warning," she muttered, shaking her head before lowering the wooden spoon into the pot again. "I guess I should be thankful that you aren't blackmailing me."

"Not at the moment," he said with a wide smile. "So who else is coming to dinner? Mr. Jones?"

Sighing, Emma looked at the clock that hung on the wall over the sink. "Elsa and her sister will be here with Liam and Killian. I need to talk to them all about something."

Henry nodded knowingly, gathering the school work that had become spread across the table. "You know I could show Elsa and Anna that new picture we took. Anna loves photography. And Liam could join us."

Emma raised her eyebrow as she replaced the lid on the pot. "Why would you volunteer that? They are here to talk about something for this weekend."

"I just meant if you and he wanted some alone time." Henry laughed wildly as he left the room. Just as he entered his room, he spun around and tried his best wink that came off more as exaggerated blinking. "Ruby said you need alone time. I Googled it and the internet said you should spend lots of time alone with a guy you like. You can have wine and talk about feelings and stuff."

"Next time you Google something, try asking how to soundproof walls," she called after him.

***AAA***

"Do you ever wonder why they call it chili when it's hot not cold?" Anna asked, holding her latest spoonful aloft. She had been entertaining or annoying the group with her questions since they all found spots around the living room and waited for Emma's announcement. Kristoff sat beside her with a slightly bemused expression, his fingers of his left hand curling over her knee. "Maybe it's because we eat it when it's cold outside, but is that how you spell chilly? Is it the same? Killian, you're a teacher."

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he searched for an answer in his head. "I believe it's named for the pepper that gives it its flavor and taste."

"Okay that makes more sense," Anna said, looking satisfied as she took another bite. "This is really good, Emma. But I think we know that you mean more than just feeding us."

Elsa was sharing the oversized chair with Liam, her muffled laugh barely heard past her hand. Liam was a bit louder with his. "I must say, love, you gathered us all here and served us a hearty meal, but the lass has a point."

Swirling the food in her bowl, Emma took in a deep breath. "Anna, Elsa, you know that Regina wasn't happy about your performance the other night. She was pretty annoyed actually." She waved her free hand in front of her when she heard an intake of breaths from the sisters. "I spoke to her. I explained that you're just wanting to get some of your music out there in front of a live audience. And she agreed that might be a good idea. So I have you both a stage show this weekend in Boston. Saturday night at a medium sized club in the city."

Anna's eyes widened as she nearly knocked over her bowl as she dove across the coffee table to embrace Emma. "Thank you! Oh thank you!" Her enthusiasm was a bit much for Emma who fell back against Killian and felt her leg swing out and almost kick Henry on the other side of her. Every bit of air in her left her chest in a whoosh as she attempted to brace herself from the impact.

"Anna," admonished her sister. "Let Emma breathe. Don't kill her by smothering her."

Extricating herself as quickly as possible, Emma smoothed the plum colored sweater she was wearing. "So I was thinking that Liam, you and the guys might join them. Do a song or maybe two? It would be good exposure for you."

When Liam jumped from the seat and nearly dislodged Elsa from the same, Emma wondered if he was about to hug her as Anna had done. However, he picked up Elsa to spin around, which gave Henry a chance to laugh and then make a gagging gesture behind Emma's back toward Killian who chuckled and told his brother to settle. Liam heeded the warning and called the new guitarist, Robin, and Will before thanking Emma again for thinking of them.

She told him to practice and make sure they at least had the group's social media in order by the weekend. Most of them had left by the time dessert was finished, leaving Emma and Killian alone with Henry who nudged his mother with an offer to go to his room.

"Given what you said about the walls, I don't think that is necessary," she told him. "But I will suggest that you get ready for bed. You still have some reading to do for class tomorrow."

Henry mock saluted her and Killian before running toward his bedroom, dramatically shutting the door as Emma rolled her eyes. She was going to have to warn Killian to keep his voice low since her sense of privacy was a bit shaken at the moment. "Hey," she said, taking the plate he was trying to find a home out of his hand. "Are you okay? You're a bit quiet."

"I'm fine, love, just fine." His smile was quick as lightning but still didn't reach his eyes as he watched her study his face. He almost gave up the façade in that moment, feeling the scrutiny of her gaze on him. "I suppose it is a bit hard for me to hear of my brother's plans and not be a part of them any longer."

With her hand resting lightly on his forearm, she frowned. "I didn't think of that. I'm sorry. I was actually going to ask if maybe you wanted to go to Boston with all of us. I could use a fellow fan in the audience."

His grin grew wider as he swayed into her space. "Are you asking me to sweep you away to some quaint little bed and breakfast for the weekend, Emma? Just me and you and…"

"You haven't been on the road lately, have you?" she countered, trying to ignore the implications of his suggestion. It was far too early to think about weekend getaways like that, but still she couldn't help but feel herself grow toasty warm at the thought of cuddling with him in front of a fireplace as soft jazz played in the background and sharing glasses of wine after a day of playful antics in the snowy landscape. "At Storybrooke Music we don't do first class until your first recording goes platinum. Until then it is cheap motels and fast food rather than four stars and room service."

He could barely contain the laughter that was bubbling up, but still managed to garner enough restraint to continue teasing her. "So you're planning to seduce me in a seedy motel with a vibrating bed and questionable reputation?"

"You're about to find yourself disinvited," she shot back, joining his laugh and not backing away from him. "I did not bring up sharing a room. I just thought you might be nice company since I think Elsa will be busy with your brother and the thought of being alone with Anna and Kris for the drive is enough to make me question my sanity."

"She isn't such a terrible lass," he defended. "I rather like her innocent naivety. Quite unlike most men or women I know."

Emma's nose wrinkled. "That's because you haven't been on a road trip with her when she sees something like a beware of deer crossing the road sign. She honestly asked me if the deer knew they were supposed to cross only at that spot."

He practically guffawed at the idea of a conversation like that. "I would be pleased to rescue you from such questions," he proclaimed grandly when his laughter settled, lifting her hand in his to kiss the back of it gently. "Consider me you knight in shining armor and traveling companion."

"Dork," she hissed, not pulling away her hand. "So now that we have that settled. Want to tell me what's really wrong because I don't buy that feeling left out is your only issue tonight."

"Says the woman with her own issues," he sarcastically replied.

"I don't have issues," she said, slapping her free hand against his shoulder. "I don't." Her lips formed into a perfect pout that he couldn't help leaning in to peck lightly.

"We all do, but I'll let it slide for now." He was still holding onto her left hand, his thumb caressing the smooth skin of the back of it. "And since you are putting a bit of pressure on me about this, I'll concede this one time. But I'll have you know that I don't care to spend my time this way normally." He tugged on her hand to pull her back into the living room area where he sat and pulled her down next to him. "I would much rather discuss more agreeable and enjoyable topics such as when we might schedule another date?" Her determined reaction to his playfully timed questioned left him regrouping and sighing. "Mr. Gold called me into his office this afternoon."

He carefully explained the conversation to her, avoiding saying that he was worried or that the man had out and out threatened his job if they continued to see each other. "I think it was more of a fishing expedition, love. Neal has obviously brought up the topic to him and he was seeing what I was willing to say. I've told you, darling, that I have no intention of letting anyone dictate my life based on such arbitrary rules. You shouldn't have to worry about it."

"I do though," she managed to say before Henry returned in his sleep pants and an oversized shirt that she was sure she had hidden from him. His feet were bare, which normally she would have reminded him about since it was still relatively cold outside. The ends of his hair were damp from what she estimated might be the quickest shower in history. She said nothing to her son, watching him stand there with an agenda she was a little scared to uncover.

"So this weekend thing," he said, not even bothering to look a little shy or worried as he spoke. "You know I'm at my dad's right?"

"Which is the reason I didn't invite you to join us," she supplied quickly, not at all happy that her son was smiling more like Ruby in that moment than her or Neal. "You hate these things. I can't take you to the club. It would make me a finalist for worst mother of the year to take my son to a bar like nine years before he's 21."

That comment earned her a patented eye roll and a hand on his hip. "I was just reminding you."

"Duly noted," Emma said. "Anything else? Planning on telling me that I need to provide breakfast in the morning or that you do have school tomorrow?"

Killian looked rather amused at Henry's dramatic exchange with his mother, all too aware that it was for his benefit. Maybe it was the way that Henry would occasionally shift his chocolate gaze from his mother to his teacher and then back again before it became too obvious. Biting his lip, he knew that the boy was perhaps the most enthusiastic of the matchmakers.

"Well," Henry began, drawing out the four letter word. "I also have dinner with my dad on Wednesday. You know, like every Wednesday. I thought Mr. Jones might want to know that in case he wanted to ask you on another date. I know you would say yes."

"Oh my God," Emma said, suddenly very aware that her hand was still being cradled in Killian's and whipping it back as though nobody had noticed. "Henry, we're going to have a talk about that privacy thing from before and about boundaries."

"It's not a secret," Henry said proudly though he took a step back as his mother looked more prepared for murder than parental lecturing. "You always said you shouldn't hide what you're feeling because it will cause and ulcer."

"I think that was Granny," she muttered, pushing off her legs to stand. Swooping in behind her son, she placed both hands on his shoulders and directed him back toward his bedroom door. "Say goodnight and get prepared for that lecture on boundaries. I'm going to make it a good one."

"Good night, Mr. Jones," Henry sing songed with a laugh, narrowly missing the ottoman in his way.

"Good night, lad," Killian said with his own chuckle. "And thanks for the intel on your mum."