Tamara sat across from Neal's son with her hand firmly gripping the spoon. She was not exactly opposed to children, especially since this one was about to become her stepson, but she lacked the natural ease that other women seemed to possess. He was not even 13 yet, but she was quite sure that he already knew she was uncomfortable with the conversation that had not veered off from some movie plot she didn't quite follow.

"So then the guy," Henry said, digging his straw into the loaded milkshake, "the one with the invisibility shield, he takes on the other guy. You know, the one that can't see color."

She resisted the urge to look at the phone that was sitting next to a napkin, wondering for the fifth time in as many minutes why Neal thought this was a good idea. Without his music practice that Friday, Henry was done with classes early. Since Neal was handling an estate sale for his father's house and restocking the store with some interesting items, he had asked her to pick his son up. She had agreed before really thinking about it. She had been a girly girl growing up, focusing on dance lessons and playing with her friends. She had not been interested in boys until high school, leaving the mysteries of a middle school aged male as unexplored as a new land.

"Sounds interesting," she said, hoping that her lack of knowledge of these comic book characters would somehow be masked by her enthusiasm. "And is there a movie you really want to see."

Henry was nothing if not patient, sipping on his straw thoughtfully as she ran through possible discussion topics. For the life of her, she could not remember what it was that she discussed with Neal even. The boy was endlessly kind, she decided, which was a good thing.

"We could go see the new Captain America movie," he suggested, his eyebrows shooting up under the fringe of his hair. "It's supposed to be…"

"I think your dad has plans," she said lamely, as she wasn't even sure how long it was going to take Neal to get there. "I know he mentioned a game of some kind."

Henry nodded, shifting his brown eyes over to the counter and back again. His father always liked to include some sort of baseball or other sport into their weekends together. It was something Neal knew that Emma rarely did. "Of course." He watched as she struggled to approach other subjects, even falling into questions about the weather and how he liked it. Answering as best he could, he chose to end her misery and took off in the direction of the vacant video game that spoke of past decades.

***AAA***

Killian offered Emma probably the biggest concession in his ability when he threw her the keys to his jeep on Friday afternoon. Winking at her, he claimed that he was too tired to drive and had every intention sleeping as she navigated the roads to Boston. She almost didn't catch the wink or the way he paused for her reaction, causing her to frown at the thought of chauffeuring him about the eastern seaboard without anyone to talk with as she traveled. Maybe it would have been better to have snagged a ride with Liam or Anna.

"I am only kidding, love," he said, folding her gloved fingers over the cold keys. "I just thought that we might share the driving. And with my lack of a left hand, it makes it a bit difficult for me to hold yours as we travel."

Her frown lessened with his explanation, but she noted the hint of sadness at his mentioning his missing hand. She rarely noticed it herself, only occasionally noting his ability to maneuver almost anything with the one. She had even broached the subject with Henry once, who added that many of the students were not even aware since he had always worn the prosthetic one and avoided displays of making it obvious. "And kissing?"

His boots crunched in the left over snow as he stepped even closer, looping his arms around her waist to pull her against his chest. "I can do that." His lips brushed lightly against hers twice before their kiss deepened and she pressing her hands and the keys against his chest.

She had offered to drive down with him on Saturday so that they could avoid him having to take time off from work. However, he had insisted that the early drive would do them good, allowing him to escort her through some of Boston's nightlife before she was expected to work on Saturday night. His insistence that he would not be bullied by Mr. Gold or Neal was admirable, but she had to wonder if it was a bit foolish. She was not denying that she was flattered by his interest in wanting to get to know her and explore the things they were starting to feel. But she was not used to being put first.

His nose brushed against her cheek as she sighed, running her hands up so that she threw her arms over his shoulders. "We are supposed to be driving," she said, his lips trailing downward toward her neck. "You're distracting me."

Grunting with annoyance, he pulled back after a quick peck to her jaw. "Always practical," he said, sticking his bottom lip out some. "I thought that was my role."

"I was just thinking I might enjoy that date night thing in Boston. No worries about Neal or his father. No prying eyes of the PTA. I could get used to that." She smiled as he yanked her back to him to kiss her hard on the lips and then backed away.

"Let's see how fast this jeep of mine will travel."

***AAA***

Liam and Elsa had similar plans for the start of the weekend, as the two had reservations for dinner and were discussing whether or not to go dancing that night or something a bit quieter. That word sounded wonderful to both of them, as Anna was an entertaining but constant voice in the two hours they had been on the road. When Liam pulled Elsa's car into the gas station, filling up the tank and then joining her inside to peruse the selection of junk food that he and Kristoff had insisted were essential for any trip, he found her staring at four different brands of crackers as if trying to discern a formula from their placement and price.

"If you can't decide, we can get all four," he suggested, placing the four selections into the basket she had laid to rest on the floor next to her. "See, darling, problem solved. Now let's see about some sugary soda to wash down all this salt."

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly. When his wide eyed and confused glance made her realize that he was unsure what she meant, she waved her hand in the direction of Anna and Kristoff. The two were standing at the magazine rack as Anna tried to engage him in a discussion of Brad and Angelina versus Justin and Selena. He did not seem too bored though, as he fought back with some discussion of the Stanley Cup prospects. "My sister is a bit much and I sort of forced her on you. We might have been better off riding along with Emma and Killian."

"I assure you that my brother is no prize on a road trip either," Liam said with a lift of his shoulders. "He may not have that stream of consciousness thing going that your sister does, but he tends to focus on subjects that I can't quite have the same passion about. Then he complains that I am not paying attention."

"How did we ever manage such horrible siblings?" She moved on from the crackers and was examining a few of the "gourmet" items that if you looked close enough had a layer of dust on them because nobody buys gourmet items from a convenience store. Liam grabbed the basket with one hand and led her over to the sugary snack aisle instead.

"Peanut butter cups," he said with an emphatic grin. When he let his smile grow like that, you could forget that he had spent most of his adult years so far in the Royal Navy. He was not a forbidding captain, as his carefree side was much more interesting and fun. "You know, I think they are truly my vice."

"They are good, but I think I like licorice better. Red, not black." She informed him of this in a quite studious manner, slapping a package of the long red ropes against his chest. "And I like strawberry Starbursts. Lemon and orange are okay, but I prefer the red and pink ones. Do you like the lemon and orange ones?" She crouched down on the candy aisle and he watched as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. "I know a few things about candy."

"How about we buy a pack and I eat the ones you don't like?"

She didn't immediately agree to that arrangement, looking suspiciously at the long yellow wrapper. "Are you trying to butter me up, mister?"

He was about to tell her that he was going to be quite impressed if buttering her up was as simple as eating the more sour candy and letting her have the more popular. He'd be willing to do much worse to win her attention and favor, but all of that seemed to fall away as Anna rushed up to them holding up some new concoction in her hand that was a hot dog wrapped in hamburger meat with a pita bread bun and drizzled with barbecue sauce. When she finally managed to get the point that they were not about to try the disgusting looking item, it was a bit late to continue his discussion with Elsa, who was already in line.

There were two rather scraggly looking teenagers in front of them when Liam stepped behind Elsa and dangled a jar of peanut butter in front of her face. "Important question, darling? Which do you prefer? Crunchy? Or smooth?" She whirled to face him with a surprised look about her, open mouthed and nose wrinkled.

"Seriously?"

"I guess I should ask which your sister prefers," he clarified, not letting her adorable confusion sway his stoic expression. He didn't mind the flash of jealousy that crosses her eyes or the way that she practically hit a display of cell phone accessories as she stepped away from him in her confusion.

"You want to know whether my sister likes crunchy or smoot peanut butter," she repeats to herself as if trying to understand the words for a double meaning. "Seriously?"

He leaned closer to her, the jar of the brown substance tight between their chests. "Aye, sounded like a good plan for a quiet drive. This stuff might just be sticky enough to slow her diatribes a bit?" His blue eyes twinkled with the joke he was making, waiting patiently for her reply.

Elsa looked a bit worried for a single moment, as if she wanted to scold him for daring to speak negatively over her sister. It was a slippery slope since the two women were rather close and did rely on each other, but she wasn't blind to Anna's faults. "I think we should buy both," she said seriously. "And maybe some taffy too. Anything to get her to shut up when she starts talking about boy bands."

***AAA***

Henry looked at the woman next to his father and sighed, knowing the conversation was about to enter territory that he both expected and dreaded. There was no doubt that the ring on the woman's finger had been placed there by his father, a symbol of his love for her and a promise of the future. She was the fifth woman he had been serious about since he had come back into his son's life, but so far the only one who had not run upon meeting Mr. Gold or finding out that some weekends would include Henry.

"We have something to tell you," Neal said, barely masking a grimace that appeared to be reflex. Tamara either didn't notice it or didn't care, as she stared wide eyed and hopeful at Henry. "Tamara and I are getting married."

It was all that Henry could do to avoid rolling his eyes, as he had promised his mother decorum. They had talked about it before she dropped him off that morning, spoken about how it was a good thing for Neal and Tamara. It wouldn't be that big of a change, as Emma was always his mother and Neal's wife would be a part of his life in only a good way. She had even joked that she kind of liked the idea of another set of eyes to keep him in line as they started to navigate the teen years.

"Congratulations," he offered with a small smile and a bit of enthusiasm. "It'll be great."

Tamara took a tentative step forward as though wanting to hug him and then stepped back as he reflexively covered his chest with his arms. He knew that was a bit of a rude movement, but he honestly didn't want a hug. He wanted to hear from his dad that things were going to be normal and fine. He wanted to hear that his dad wanted to continue this treacherous and even odd at times relationship. He wanted to know that his father's wedding was a beginning of a family and not the ending of a chapter. But when you're 12 years old, it is hard to articulate those kinds of things. So he shrugged and waited for his dad to say something new.

Neal doubled over instead, his skin sallow with the intensity of the pain he was feeling. Tamara clutched onto his bicep and tried to pull him back to standing, her frantic voice asking about his welfare at the same time that he grunted and cursed loudly. There were no questions at that point about Henry's role in their family as she brushed past him to grab her phone out of her purse and call for help. He was not even addressed until the ambulance was loaded and a neighbor of his father's asked if he needed a ride any place.

"Granny's," had been his reply, ignoring the feeling of abandonment. It was silly, he told himself. Neal was clearly sick. He couldn't be held responsible for forgetting important things like his own son, but still there was a moment when Henry did blame him.

Thankfully Granny did not seem put out as she ushered him inside the restaurant and then back through one of the backdoors to her private quarters. He'd been there before, but she did not make a big deal of it. Settling him in and asking him a few questions about his dad, she agreed with the EMT who had diagnosed it as kidney stones.

"Dreadful things," the older woman said, wringing her hands together in front of her. "Made me wonder if I'd ever survive. But once they pass you're as good as new. Just the memory of them to scare you into thinking they're back each time you have a twinge of pain in that area."

Henry felt somewhat better when she mentioned that he'd be back up and around soon. She was not exactly a doctor, but she was as close to an expert on almost everything as the town had. She could tell you how to get out a spot or what food on her menu might induce labor. She'd even been known to identify a fan belt problem on Emma's car before it ever began acting up.

"You've got the weight of the world on your shoulders there," she said, positioning herself at the far end of the counter in her kitchen so that she could see him as she prepared them both a sandwich. "Far more trouble than a father with kidney stones. Tell me what's wrong."

Henry sighed, finally shrugging out of the wool coat he'd been wearing and leaving it in a lump behind him on the floral sofa. "You're going to make me call my mom, right?"

Granny swayed as she stood on her toes and reached for two plates. "I was thinking she ought to know where you are, but you have other plans? Is there something you're hiding?"

Shaking his head sadly, he waited until she placed the plate in front of him before he spoke again. "I don't want her to cut her weekend short because of me. It's not just a work thing. See she and…"

"She and Killian went together, didn't they?" the woman asked, wrinkling her face into a big smile. "I knew it."

"But if she knows my dad's sick and that you're watching me, she'll come back to get me." Henry toyed with the crust for a moment and then took a bite, taking his time to chew it carefully. "My dad's marrying Tamara."

"You're just full of information tonight, aren't you?" Granny asked. "Are you not happy about your dad and this woman? Is that it?" She had seen her own granddaughter have a similar reaction when faced with a stepparent. However, Henry did not seem quite as dramatic as Ruby had ever been.

"Tamara's okay," he said, placing the sandwich back down on the plate as though it had somehow offended him. "She doesn't really like kids though."

Granny did not try arguing with Henry as most adults would have in that situation, offering suggestions that maybe she wasn't comfortable with children or maybe she was nervous. She accepted the boy's assessment and asked him if something had been said to make him feel that way. The preteen's face went pale as he began to explain.

"I was playing with that video game you got for the diner. You know the really old one. She was on her phone and I guess didn't realize I was there. I overheard. I wasn't like spying or anything."

"And what did you overhear?"

"She was telling someone that she was glad my dad didn't have full custody of me because she didn't have time to be a mom to someone else's kid." He frowned again, his forehead creasing with the gravity of his words. "I didn't even tell my mom that. I also didn't tell her or my dad that I heard her say that she wasn't sure she wanted to marry a guy with a kid."

"Not tactful, is she?"

Henry wasn't sure what that word meant, but he agreed with Granny's assessment. "Do you think that I'm the reason my mom's not married? That maybe guys don't want to date a woman with kids? I know she really likes my teacher and he likes her. I just think that if I have to call her and tell her that I need her to come home…"

"First of all," Granny said, pushing off with a grunt so that she was standing again and heading into the kitchen, "Killian Jones is about as far from that Tamara woman as you can get. He's a teacher, Henry. They tend to like kids. And as for your mother's dating life, I put the blame for that square on her shoulders as well as your father's. Sometimes when we get hurt by those we love or those we think love us, we tell ourselves we'll never let it happen again. Your mom decided that she was going to focus on being a mom and getting her career off the ground. Both admirable things, but she didn't leave room in her life for love."

"Because of me?" he asked sadly. He let his mind travel through memories. He remembered being eight and having a fever that meant his mother canceled a blind date. At 10 he had accidentally dropped her phone in the swimming pool at their vacation hotel and gotten her a severe lecture from her boss. No child wants to be considered a burden.

"No, Henry. I'm going to let you in on a secret. The love between a parent and child is better than anything else. And for you mom, it is enough for her. That's what she's told herself. See, you're her son. You love her because she's your mom. And that is a good thing for a mom. But your mom needed to remember that she's a person too. And people need love and friends. They need other people to look at them and see good things. They need someone who wants to know how their day went or care about the things that nobody else has time to notice. That's why I thought it was time your mom started dating again. And when I saw that Killian Jones was needing the same thing…well, I knew they would be a good fit."

"But he's going to get tired of her having to cancel plans to take care of me," Henry noted. "He'll find someone without kids…"

"Maybe," Granny said. "Or maybe he'll stay. Either way it won't be all about you, Henry. Your mom wouldn't want to be with anyone who didn't have a good enough heart to want you around, but it will take more than that to win your mom's heart. He's going to have to make her happy, happier than she's ever known she can be. That's the only thing that is going to break down the last of her walls."

Grabbing the sandwich again, Henry let himself relax against the cushions of the sofa. "I like that. I want my mom to be happy."

***AAA***

Liam picked through the salad as the conversation over music took most of their attention. It was hard to concentrate on what Robin was saying, as Elsa was sitting right there in a dress that he was having a hard time ignoring. She was a combination of seduction and innocence that confounded him and made him eager to learn and experience more. And discussing drum solos with Robin was doing nothing to solve the mystery of her.

"Be right back," Robin announced, holding up his phone as evidence. He had been checking on Roland about every 90 minutes. He was due.

"What do you say we ditch him and find some place else?" Liam asked her suggestively, his mouth very near her ear.

"You've barely touched your salad," she commented with mock seriousness. "Aren't you starving?"

"Darling."

Her giggle was a bit louder than she meant and she quickly covered her mouth with her napkin as though coughing. "We can't ditch Robin, but I think you did promise me a walk and maybe a movie. You know something to get my nerves about tomorrow night in check."

He moved in closer to her, dropping his face against her exposed neck, as her hair was piled atop her head in what he assumed a very uncomfortable style for all its work. Kissing just under her ear and then a bit lower on her neck, he groaned again. "I'd rather…"

"Pull it together, Liam," she said warningly, wagging her fork at him. "Robin's headed this way."

***AAA***

The hotel room was not as bad as she had made it out to be, though not quite first class either. The suite included a sitting area and a bedroom that was taken up almost entirely by a giant bed. Telling Killian that she hoped his plans could wait until she could shower and wipe the grime of the fast food spills and hours of singing everything from 80s power ballads to show tunes together in the jeep, Emma was locked in the bathroom with the steam drifting around her.

"You're fine," she told herself as she stepped out of the glass enclosed shower that looked nice but leaked around the edges and left a giant puddle that she almost slipped on with a splat. The not too thick towel was wrapped around her and she stared through the fog of the mirror to her red tinted face and shoulders. Whoever made the unflattering lights in hotel bathrooms should be shot, she thought firmly.

Her hair was slightly damp, but hung in a complicated braid pattern that she had plaited it into that morning after her first shower. The plan was to let it loose before they went out with the thought that her hair would fall in elegant waves that would flow beautifully and yet not look too posed. However, the humidity of the hotel bathroom was making the long blonde wisps frizz within the braided style. So much for plans.

She had thankfully brought her small makeup bag with her into the cramped space. Keeping with her minimalist approach, she skipped the heavy foundations and powders to concentrate on her eyes with a bit of mascara and liner. On her lips she chose a nearly nude color that served more to keep them soft than dye them some vibrant color.

Her dress was hanging on the door, benefiting from the steam by releasing a few of the traveling wrinkles. While working she typically stuck with primary colors of bold reds and blues or the dramatic contrast of white and black. Yet when she had been digging for an outfit to wear, the seafoam green had stuck out to her. It was a simpler dress than she usually wore, less form fitting and more feminine. It had a fuller skirt and a rounded neckline that dipped just low enough to show her cleavage off without revealing too much. Keeping her jewelry simple too, she chose a thin silver chain and small studs in her ears that glinted just enough in the light. The color of the dress picked up on the greens and blues of her eyes and made them pop against her porcelain skin.

She frowned as she touched her hair, considering her options as more errant strands curly cued in wild directions. Unknotting the braids, she brushed her hair furiously and cursed under her breath at the results. For a moment she considered calling out to Killian that she was just going to stay in or even ask him to find her a hat. A few minutes and a few prayers later, her hair seemed to be back to normal and she managed to slip out into the room and find Killian ready and waiting.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly as he jumped up from the bed where he had been reclined with his left hand behind his head and the remote control resting on his chest. His deep blue shirt matched his eyes perfectly and was unbuttoned a few buttons at his chest. A tailored black vest and pants of the same material completed his look. "I didn't mean to take so long."

"You look stunning," he said, his voice a little tense. "And no worries. We have time to get to dinner."

She slid her feet into a silvery pair of heels, not taking her eyes off of him as she reached for the small clutch. "Thank you, but compliments don't help the fact that you still haven't told me the plan. Where exactly are we going?"

"Patience," he teased, grabbing her coat and holding it out for her like a well-choreographed dance. "I found the perfect thing."

***AAA***

Elsa felt a bit like the girl in high school wearing her boyfriend's letterman jacket as Liam placed his warmer coat over her shoulders when she had admitted it was a bit too chilly for their walk to the theater. It wasn't the most original of moments or even the most creative of dates, but she was enjoying the simplicity of it.

Looking at one of the tall buildings that was of the gothic style of architecture, Liam commented how new everything seemed in the United States. "It's hard to grasp the difference in history timelines," he admitted. "But it is lovely."

Her head tilted back and off to the side as she appraised it. "I don't know if I'd call it lovely. I think it looks kind of dark and scary. Something out of a horror movie."

"I'm sure the people who work there would agree with you, especially on a Monday morning."

Talk turned quickly to discussion of the movie they were about to see and to Liam's love for hot buttered popcorn. She had teased him that he couldn't possibly be hungry after they had eaten several courses at one of the most talked about restaurants in Boston, even if much of that time had been focused on Robin's concerns about the live performance.

"You underestimate my abilities to eat," Liam said with a measure of pride. "From the time I was a mere ensign in the Navy, I had plenty to eat, but it was the blandest and tasteless food you could imagine. Even in the morning when there was bacon, it tasted of nothing other than cardboard. I don't know how you can make bacon bland, but they managed. I swore to myself that once I was out I would indulge in all the pleasurable foods and drinks that I missed during that time. If I have to increase my workouts then so be it."

"Did you enjoy dinner?" she asked, as the restaurant had been her suggestion after seeing the chef win a rather tough competition on television. She knew that Liam leaned more toward traditional fare, but the idea of being so close to the place and not trying it was unheard of for her. She wasn't sure how Liam had managed to snag them a table that they were originally going to share with Emma and Killian, but he had.

"It was rather interesting," he said, not committing to a compliment or criticism of the unusual dishes. "The salad appeared as it was."

Elsa had to giggle at that statement, as he had picked through the green kale, arugula and dandelion stems with a quiet yet skeptical eye. "And the salmon?"

"Honestly? I was not entirely sure what that even was. It tasted as it should, but those tiny bubbles or balls around it confused me." The dish had been a cross between culinary art and science, which seemed to confound Liam's more sensible tastes. "And I noticed you loved it. Even took a photo with your phone of each course."

Not usually one for social media or advancing technology, Elsa had surprised them both by trying to sneakily take the photos. She wanted to remember her experience and share it with other foodies who wanted to try such things. Liam had found that to be adorable and even snagged her phone at one point to take her photo with the ornate and strange dessert that seemed more architectural than edible. He had seen her reluctance slide away as she lifted the plate and smiled brightly for the picture.

"You shouldn't have let me pick that place if you didn't want to eat there," she said with a slight frown. "I would have been happy with burgers and fries if you would have preferred that."

Thankfully there weren't any people directly behind them as he stopped their walking short, spinning her to face him. "I didn't get the reservations merely to get the meal, Elsa. You wanted to eat there. You've talked of nothing else since watching that blasted show. If I can make something you want happen, why shouldn't I be eager to perform the task?"

Her frown was still etched on her face, though not as much as before. "This is new for me, letting someone do things like this for me. I'm usually the one who has to sacrifice."

Liam's large hands sat on her shoulders and slid down to where her hands were at her sides. "I'm not going to refer to my eating an interesting meal as a sacrifice, love. And I hope you know that doing something that brings a smile to your face is not a hardship. I'd rather see your face light up and hear your excitement than eat a hamburger."

***AAA***

"A boat?" Emma asked as Killian smiled brightly and proudly. He had again surprised her with a thoughtful evening out, picking a dinner cruise. While touristy, it was different and romantic at the same time. Their table was inside next to a window, offering views of the harbor. The dimly lit room was accented with rich, dark woodwork and jewel toned accessories. Their table was intimately small, allowing their hands to touch as they waited on their server to bring the wine.

"You said you appreciated the water," he said as their drinks were poured. "When I came across this opportunity I thought it a perfect solution."

She knew that he was an avid sailor and tended to schedule his summers around sailing trips and fishing expeditions. It had already come up in their conversations that he took such things very seriously and was already priming her with the basics of sailing so that she might join him.

"Any excuse for you to be on the water?"

"Can't deny it."