Regina was actually smiling when Emma arrived at work on Monday morning. She had been prepping for a confrontation on the drive from Henry's school to the offices of the production company. While on the surface she could understand that it was not her fault that Liam had presented them with a bit of a problem, she was not so sure that Regina would see it that way. So Emma had prepared no fewer than six statements about the situation, starting with the fact that both Elsa and Killian were not interested in pursuing anything against him.
"I'm thinking we should look at some local television options," Regina said with her hands folded under her chin. She was leaning forward on that glass desk that served to be more imposing than functional, something Emma wasn't a fan of in her own life. "Elsa and Anna should do a few of the morning shows and maybe a late night showcase or something. Together with the backers' showcase that we have planned, I'm seeing good things for them."
That was as far as Regina ever went toward complimenting Emma for her work, as it was never about Emma but the artists instead. If she was looking for public acknowledgement, working for the Mills sisters was the wrong choice.
"The audience seemed to love them," Emma agreed, writing down the notes Regina had suggested. "Anna is a natural on stage and Elsa is so talented that it is amazing to watch her get in the zone."
Regina waited until Emma lifted her pen from the pad and smiled another sort of half hearted grin. "I suppose we need to look at what to do with the guys. Any word on their reaction to Lee's confession?"
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes with a swift bite to her side of her mouth, Emma recrossed her legs. "Liam has spoken with them and they have accepted his apology. And there seems to be no issue about the music or lyrics that he sampled." She thought the word stole or plagiarized might be too much.
Mumbling under her breath, Regina's fingers flew at the computer keyboard. "Ironically that song was the best received according to the critics who were there. Any chance we can get these musicians to sign off and let him have the rights to it? I'd hate to try to explain why the band's best song is now off the playlist."
Emma was already bobbing her head, as had previously broached the subject with Elsa and Killian the day before. Even if Liam and the guys never performed it, the song being available would be a better situation than not at all. "Wait, so you're okay with them continuing."
The dark haired woman blinked a few times. "Read the trades, Ms. Swan. There is no lack of stories about artists being accused of borrowing from each other. It seems that this man has not offended anyone with this incident. The band isn't exactly ready for a major deal or contract, but I see no reason why we can't offer them a development deal. I'm going to want assurances that he won't do it again."
"He won't," Emma said, breathing out heavily. "I can guarantee that."
"And this business with him and Elsa?"
Emma felt her chest tighten. Regina was not exactly the type of woman to gossip or get very interested in anyone's relationship. She had said on many occasions that emotions and business did not match. It was often a sticking point for her and Zelena, who had more forcefully stated that all good art came from feeling rather than knowing. Not sure what to say, Emma waited for the woman to continue.
"I understand that they are dating," Regina explained, flicking a well manicured hand toward the screen of her computer. "Every article and blog mentions it. So I would say that business dictates we play that up. Let's have them seen together. Maybe consider a duet?"
***AAA***
Liam held the coffee cup in his hands, not drinking or even paying attention to the fact that it had cooled to the point of room temperature. His blue eyes stared at the silent and dark phone that he had placed on the ottoman in front of him. "Ring," he said, as if that would somehow make a difference.
The house was remarkably quiet, despite the chaos of turning Killian's office into a bedroom for him. When his brother had lumbered through the door earlier that morning, smiling softly and humming to himself, Liam had half expected a lecture or at least a dirty look. Instead his brother had told him that he understood the pressure and was not overly upset over the lyrics.
"I don't exactly appreciate it, but it's not going to end the fact that we are brothers," Killian had told him that morning. "So get yourself in gear in ready for the move into that room. I have a lead on some furniture and we need to make sure it's cleared out."
That was as close as they had come to talking about it, other than a slight warning that Liam should stay out of his stuff. Between Killian's mooning over his weekend with Emma (a condition that his brother clearly denied) and a busy week ahead, Liam had been left to his own devices that morning.
Even Elsa had not been as anxious to see him. She had to run some errands for her sister, she said, as well as go over a few details with the production team now that the album release was being moved up. While she assured him that she was not angry, there was a hesitancy and distance in her voice that seemed to indicate things were still tense. She had said she would call when she was finished, a concession to her earlier refusal to meet him for lunch.
However, it was not Elsa's call that had him threatening to build a shrine and begin doing ritual sacrifices to the phone gods. Emma was meeting with Regina that morning, discussing among other things, his fate. The band wanted to continue, though Robin and Will had been quite blunt that they could continue without him. If his lapse in judgment had cost them a contract, he was going to have to let them make that decision. It was the not knowing that was the worst part.
When the phone finally chirped, he nearly dropped the room temperature coffee as he dove for the black device. Hands shaking, he swiped at the screen and grunted out a hello before regaining his balance on the couch. Emma's voice was a welcome interlude.
"Consider yourself a lucky guy," Emma said, clearly heading toward her car with the sound of traffic and wind in the background. "Regina's not even that mad. I'm guessing you either have the best karma out there or you have blackmail pics of her on your computer. Either way, congrats. You guys have yourself a development deal. I'll get with you and the guys later this week about setting up some time in the studio."
He wasn't all that embarrassed that he did a little fist pump in the air at the news. After narrowing down a few details about her schedule and promising again that it was a one time thing about the song, he cleared his throat.
"Emma," he said vacillating slightly. "Emma, I know this was awkward for you. I would be lying if I said I had even considered your feelings when I decided to use Killian's lyrics. I'm sure that you would have rather that have been more private of a revelation."
"I could call you all sorts of names for having done what you did," Emma answered tersely. "But Elsa and Killian don't seem to have any problem forgiving you. So here's the deal where we're concerned. Don't do it again. Not only are you putting your career and the band's career at risk, but mine too. Not to mention that you are in danger of hurting two people I really care about."
"I understand."
"Good because I don't forgive as easily as these guys do. And you can ask my son about it. I'm really good at coming up with creative punishments."
"Duly noted," he said with a chuckle, feeling his body finally able to relax. "I promise you that I will be nothing but honest. But if I may point something out…"
Emma's voice sounded distracted as her car cranked with a bit of protest and she was clearly driving out of her spot to her next appointment. "Go ahead."
"You care for my brother?" he asked cheekily, remembering the sentence she had just shared. "I think that is rather sweet. I know that my brother seems to like you a great deal."
"Goodbye, Liam."
***AAA***
Killian had four students auditioning that afternoon, including Henry. While most of his classes had little to do with the auditions, he knew that his attrition was clearly focused on those four and the nerves they were experiencing. He could see Grace chewing on her finger nails while he talked about the difference between concert bands and orchestras. Henry turned positively green when one of the other teachers brought up the audition and noted that there might be an issue with the room reservation. It was Violet who had the most dramatic reaction when she told him that she was sure she could not make it through the process and stumbled into an almost faint there in front of him.
"If this doesn't kill them, it will certainly kill me," he told Belle Gold, the school and town librarian that day in the work lounge. "I would have never thought that a simple honors orchestra audition would cause so much strife."
"It adds up," the dark haired beauty said, thumbing through the latest catalog of teaching supplies and classroom decorations. "Psychiatrists are saying that we put too much pressure on children today. Just look at this month. Your students have these auditions. The class officers are being elected for next year. The science fair has turned into a contest or reality television program. Mary Margaret is picking the students for the young author awards with me. The physical education teachers are practically running an even on par with the Olympic Games. This is all in addition to homework, pressure at home, and just growing up."
"I suppose Archie's got a few more appointments on his books than normal." Killian had met psychologist not long after moving to Storybrooke. While he liked the man's quiet nature and affinity for dogs, he always felt as though he was being analyzed. How did you answer a man who charged $150 an hour to talk about your feelings when he asked how you were that day?
"He's going to need an assistant at this rate," Belle agreed. "I mentioned to my husband that we should cut back on the expectations we have on these kids, but it is a critical time for him too. The sports teams are all looking at needing more funding next year. Academically this time is critical for testing and whatnot. It's a problem. I guess we all just have to push ourselves and hope that we can survive the peptic ulcers and anxiety attacks."
Just Belle's mentioning her husband was enough to give Killian heart palpitations. He had no doubt that having Emma in his life was worth any risk to his career at Storybrooke Academy. As he had told both her and Liam, there were other schools and opportunities if Mr. Gold saw fit to get rid of him. The trick to it all was keeping things low key. He would not treat Henry or Emma any differently than any mother and son at his school. They would reserve their more private conversations and actions for other locations.
Since it all seemed to stem from Neal's reaction to them, Killian was convinced that it merely took them being conscientious around the man. They wouldn't rub his nose in anything. If what Henry said was true, the man was going to be too involved in his own wife to be's life to worry about who Emma was spending time with and Henry.
***AAA***
Mary Margaret circled round her desk in the front of the classroom with her left hand thrust out awkwardly and a growing smile on his face. "He asked!"
Still unwinding the scarf from around her neck, Emma couldn't resist teasing her friend a bit and ignoring the waving hand in front of her. "Who asked what?" She might have underestimated her friend's reaction as she had to step backwards from the oncoming onslaught of that same left hand slapping against her shoulder. "Just kidding. Why do you think I'm here? I want details."
The brunette pursed her lips together and cocked her head toward the right. "You're here because you have a conference with me about Henry's grade in language arts. Getting the details of my date is just a side agenda." Her lips seemed to thin as she considered this. "Oh whatever. I am dying to tell you. I didn't want to interrupt your weekend with Killian though."
Emma laughed and lowered herself into one of the too small chairs, dropping her coat off her shoulders. "Double duty. Which do you want to start with?" She watched her excitable friend laugh giddily as she looked at her own ring and smiled.
"I'm going to be Mrs. Mary Margaret Nolan," she sighed. She had already perfected the left handed moves that prominently displayed the emerald and diamond ring that David had inherited from his mother. "I can't believe it."
The overwhelmed and disbelieving tone of the teacher was too much for Emma who reminded her that half of Storybrooke had been planning their wedding long before their first date. She quickly turned the focus to the date and the way that David had asked her during a carriage ride he had arranged for them after dinner at her favorite French bistro. If it was anyone but Mary Margaret, Emma might have gagged a little at the pure cheesy romance of that. However, she tried to look enthused instead.
"It was just out of fairy tale," the teacher continued, pulling out her phone where there were pics of her and David both before and after the proposal. Emma didn't point out that those same pics were currently on social media for everyone to see.
"I'm really happy for you. Congratulations! I hope I'm invited to the wedding."
Mary Margaret's left hand rested on her chest as she smiled brightly. "Of course," she said in a way that was reminiscent of her students. "David wants you to be his best man, but I'm wanting you to be my maid of honor. And we want Henry in the wedding party too."
Emma blinked rapidly as her friend started to detail dress styles and music selections. She pointed out to the teacher that she had been engaged for less than 48 hours and was already talking about booking locations and debating the merits of certain photographers and caterers. It was great, but still overwhelming. She quickly realized that if the shoe was on the other foot, she would have no idea how to organize such a thing.
By the time they actually got to the parent teacher conference part of things Emma was grateful if not a bit exhausted. The great thing about having Mary Margaret as a friend was the woman's undying loyalty and enthusiasm. She could see the goodness in everything. She always wanted her friends to have what she had and then some. Though not really a kiss and tell kind of person, she knew that Mary Margaret wanted to know about the time she had spent with Killian in detail. So Emma threw her a bone and gave a few comments about looking at the stars and dancing after dinner on the boat. She also commented that he was the first guy she had ever really had around Henry for any length of time.
"I know you worry about letting Henry get too attached to a guy you're dating," she commented, pulling out a green colored folder and placing it between them. "And that can be an issue in some cases. But I'm telling you that Killian Jones isn't the kind of guy who's going to do wrong by you or your son. There are no guarantees in life, but trust me on that."
"I am trying," Emma said with a sigh. "So tell me what's going on. Is my son starting a gambling ring? Did he knock off the lunch room for a bunch of singles? What?"
"You need to work on your optimism, Emma."
"Fine, tell me."
Mary Margaret pulled out a sheaf of stapled pages. "Henry's won the creative writing contest for the school. His work is being sent off for judging at the state level. Do you realize what this means? He's at the low end of the age bracket. His writing is really amazing."
Leaning forward, Emma peered over the pages and saw her son's name typed in the top corner of the page. Below that were paragraphs of a story about wizards and knights that Mary Margaret said was incredible for someone twice his age. "He did this?"
"Yeah and it isn't just me talking as your friend. He's quite a little talent."
***AAA***
The hallway outside the cafeteria looked to Emma like something out of the American Idol audition process. Children and teens from around the district had converged on the small space and that hallway held all of the parents, care givers, siblings, grandparents and others. When one family of about 15 broke out posters and signage to cheer on their little Adam, Emma seriously felt like she was a lone wolf. She'd called and asked Neal to come to show his support, but he was still claiming that his weekend trip to the hospital had wiped him out and Tamara was nursing him back to health. The image of him in bed with Tamara in a naughty nurse outfit fleetingly crossed her mind and turned her stomach.
However, Henry had supporters. Mary Margaret had promised to stop by after conferences and David called in his support too. Ruby and Granny begged Emma to bring him by the diner afterwards for a dinner on the house. Graham said that if Henry did well that he could ride in the sheriff's patrol car through town as a reward. And though Killian and Emma were trying to play it down at the school, she could see his nervous glances at Henry warming up earlier were a clear indication of his interest. He was now pacing by the doorway and sneaking peeks into the room whenever a student entered or exited. Twice he had shot her a look that if anyone was paying attention would have given his true affections away, but they had not spoken.
Her lips twitched upward as she noted that he again ran his hand just at the base of where his hair came to his ears and scratched absently. The nervous twitch was an endearing quality about him that always made her happy to see. It was just another crack in the perfect façade that she both adored and found intimidating. His black button down shirt was sans vest today and the top button was undone so that his silver chain and charms nestled into his chest hair. The lack of color was a good contrast against his skin and inky black hair. It also set off his blue eyes, she thought as she dug into her pocket for her phone.
Ignoring the three messages from Regina and another from Elsa telling her to wish Henry good luck, Emma typed out a quick message and hit send.
Emma: I think I like you in all black. It makes you look dark and dangerous.
She could tell the moment he received the message, as he jumped nearly a foot at the vibration in his pocket. Slowly he pulled it out and stared at the message she had sent, color painting his face as his lips curled upward. Rather than gift her with another look, he set about responding.
Killian: I wondered if you had a type. Dark and dangerous is what does it for you?
Emma: If that was all that I was looking for, I'm not sure I'd go for the school music teacher. But I must say you look very handsome today.
Killian: I think I like this new leaf, Swan.
Emma stared at the screen in confusion as she read over that last sentence again. She finally gave in and asked him what he meant, not quite understanding his quip.
Killian: You don't usually initiate a conversation or offer compliments. I thought it must be something new you were trying. I only meant that I was rather fond of it.
He was right, she realized as she let his explanation sink into her mind. He was always the first to call her beautiful or tell her that she looked especially nice that day. There were few exceptions to the times that he reached out to hold her hand or initiated a kiss. The only time she really ever did was when her words failed her. Killian was a very handsome man with a kind soul. He should know that she felt that way. Her brow furrowed as she considered how to express that over a phone.
Emma: If I haven't complimented you enough then I apologize. You deserve to know that you are definitely my type.
Killian: I am blushing, Swan.
Emma: Dork, I can see you, you know.
He lifted those blue eyes from the screen and found her again, smiling widely like a man who had won the lottery. Mouthing thank you and winking, he hustled over to where the woman was taking forms from the students auditioning and shared a few words with her before pulling his phone back out from his pocket.
Killian: It appears Henry and the others aren't scheduled for another hour or so. I think I might take a look at some paperwork in my classroom and office.
Emma: Care for a distraction?
***AAA***
Elsa was quite sure that the walk from her car to the front door at the brothers' house was the longest of her life. While the temperature was not quite as frigid as it has been in the previous weeks, there was a bite to the air despite the blazing sun. With her oversized sunglasses perched jauntily on her nose, Elsa still had to use one hand to shield her eyes as she walked past the shrubbery and paused before the weather beaten door.
She was still mid knock when he threw open the door and smiled boldly then let it fall. "Elsa."
She nodded as if he didn't quite believe who she was or thought his mind might be playing tricks on him. "I know I said I'd call, but I was in the neighborhood…"
His left foot hovered in a way that indicated he might be considering stepping forward or back. Finally he decided backwards to invite her inside. Thankfully she took the cue and entered the cottage with its heavy wood and leather décor, removing those sunglasses as she crossed threshold. She had not been there in a few days and was a bit shocked by the boxes and chaos of the renovation.
"I forgot you're moving into that room," she said, feeling a bit silly to state the obvious. "I should have offered to help you. I am pretty good at packing and organizing."
"I'm afraid neither of us are much use for it," he said, a hand raking through the curls he wore proudly. "Killian's a pack rat at heart. And each time I make a comment about packing up something he comes up with a reason that he needs it. It might have been easier to raise the roof and finish out the attic."
She was still several steps away from him, but was already breathing easier to have her that close. Looking upward, she smiled. "Property Brothers?"
"Fixer Upper," he clarified with a laugh. "I watch those cooking competitions with you and go to sleep the sounds of demo and mold remediation with budgets skyrocketing out of control."
"Whatever happened to budget friendly?" She looked past the boxes at the open door to the office turned Liam's bedroom. "I would think you are excited about putting down some roots."
"Aye, privacy will be a nice thing," he said before doing the good host thing of offering her a drink or a snack. Even though he knew she was not there to see his brother, he told her of Killian's schedule and mentioned that Emma was probably with him. When she looked at him as though he had lost his mind, he apologized and directed her to the sofa. "I know that I asked you to lunch earlier, but I wasn't picturing myself feeling so awkward around you."
"Yeah," she answered softly. "Liam, I meant what I said yesterday. I'm not angry at you or with you. I'm trying to process all this. It's hard for me to trust."
His blue eyes closed slowly and deliberately. "And I fractured that trust." It seemed twist his heart a bit more to hear her say anything about what he had ruined. He knew that he deserved that, but it still cringed at the words.
"I think," she said, her fingers splaying and drawing back in repeatedly on the soft leather of her seat, "maybe it is me. My gut reaction is that I do trust you, Liam. I just don't trust myself." He contemplated her quizzically enough that she had to continue her justification. "I'm angrier at myself. I'm angry that I was so caught up in me and my performance that I didn't notice you. It was all about me, which pisses me off."
Elsa was usually eloquent and thoughtful in her speech. Though not exactly as potty mouthed as he and Killian could be when they got angry, Liam was no less enchanted to hear that anything pissed off the woman in front of him. "No offense, darling, but that has to be a new kind of forgiveness. I stole from you and you are blaming yourself."
"A therapist would have a field day with me," she confirmed. "But I'm not really. I'm saying that what you did was wrong, but it didn't come out of left field. I should have noticed. I should have helped you instead of having my daily breakdowns. Anyway, I didn't come here to rehash all of it. I came here because I wanted to see if we could maybe…well, salvage what we were starting to…"
The rest of her words were cut off as he lunged forward to kiss her. All of the air she had been holding inside escaped as their mouths fused. During a rather sleepless night with her sister listening to her recount and dissect everything, including an early morning call to Emma for confirmation, it felt good to let her reaction fit her emotions rather than explain it away. Thankful for the support of the sofa, she felt herself melting against him and knew that if standing her legs wouldn't hold her.
The worn flannel of his shirt was soft under the pads of her fingers and contrasted to the heat of his hands on her. There was nothing sweet or delicate about the kiss, as it bordered more on desperate and needy. Both of them were pulling at the other's clothing, shirts freed from the waists of jeans and skirts, legs tangling as they fell deeper onto the couch. Her body was humming with electricity, ears ringing with the sighs and whispers of his voice when the jolt of the doorbell seemed to hit both of them at the same time.
He was holding himself up on one arm above her, the other still lost at where the hem of her shirt was currently residing just under the curve of her breasts. And for a moment it looked as though he was going to tell her to ignore it, pretend they hadn't heard the melodic tone announcing someone's arrival. That was until the cherubic face of the voice on the other side appeared in his mind.
"Uncle Liam? Uncle Killian?" Each syllable was drawn into a precise manner that was the result of his age and parents who spoke with far deeper accents than he did. "Papa, are they there?"
Elsa was looking up at him with confused eyes that were nearly as dark as his own at the moment. Her mouth was open and her breaths came in short bursts. "Robin?"
"And his son."
***AAA***
The handles of the file cabinet dug a bit into his back as he extended his legs out in front of him with her curled into his side. It wasn't the cleverest of hiding spots, but they had retreated to the office he used just to the side of the classroom and ducked down out of the sight line of anyone walking by the space. If they were being honest, she wasn't exactly in a comfortable position either, wedged into his embrace with the desk behind her and her legs curled up so that her feet were next to a waste basket.
"I think I much prefer some of the spots from this weekend," he teased, trying to ignore the sting of his head hitting the metal storage. "Much more comfortable."
"I don't know," she said, leaning her head against the buttons of his black shirt. "This is kind of cozy. Kind of like those tiny houses people live in now days. And the company isn't bad either."
"The company is brilliant."
There was an ease to their conversation that she had to admit was comforting and quiet. He asked her about her day and talked of his own adventures. There was no dramatic pause before talking about what to do with their alone time or if they would see each other again. The first sign of that was when she commented that she was taking Henry to Granny's for a celebratory dinner after the audition. "I'm thinking you should get the fries and I'll get the onion rings. That way we can share both. She's got that one booth where we can hide out or we could get it to go." She stopped short, lifting her head of his chest and studying his face to see if he realized what she had just said.
He didn't seem all that surprised and agreed, noting that they could get different desserts too. When he realized her expression, he paused to let her get her bearings. "Would you rather take him alone?"
"No, it's fine…he would like to have you there and I would like the company…" She bit her lip. "I don't want you to think that I'm taking you for granted though."
"I'm not offended, love. I am fond of the way that you want to include me and that Henry doesn't seem to mind all that much. I would say it was a step in the right direction."
"See, here I was thinking that you are always so sweet and considerate with me and that I should do something for you. Show you that I'm not quite the emotionless robot that I appear sometimes."
He had never considered her anything of the sort, having seen her in intimate moments only seemed to cement that knowledge for him. However, if she was feeling some need to make her feelings more obvious, he was willing to let her. "And what is it that you were planning?"
She scrunched up the features on her face as if to show the exertion of thinking what would be appropriate. "I'm thinking a romantic date," she decided with a sharp nod of her head in agreement with herself. "Candlelight. Great food. Wine. Maybe a little dancing."
"Sounds familiar but good," he grunted when she shifted so that she was straddling him, her foot almost knocking over the waste basket.
"Are you saying I'm not original?" she said, mockingly frowning at him and flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I haven't told you the best part."
"I'm all ears."
"I was thinking mountain cabin with no phones to interrupt us." She raised an eyebrow as he smiled expectantly. "Or maybe something on the water instead. But privacy is a must. No son or brother in the next room."
His hand was resting on her hip as she leaned forward, closing the gap of space between them. "And when would we have this date, love? Soon I hope." Her palms braced themselves on his chest as she let her hair fall back down over her shoulders and create a curtain around them.
"Maybe the weekend after this one coming up," she said, mentally calculating before bringing her lips just seconds from his. "I have an event this weekend that I'm going to on Saturday night. Black tie thing that will be a bore and a nightmare."
She was teasing him by ghosting her lips over his and then dropping lower to run her lips and tongue over the long lines of his neck. Stopping at his pulse, she teased a bit more. "Work thing?" he managed to ask.
"Sort of. A friend has a book release party happening at a store in Portland. I promised I would go. Those can be worse than music things. The food is better but the booze sucks. Same hoity people acting like they had something to do with it all. I hate them, but I had promised months ago." She went back to his neck, which he seemed to appreciate by the way he threw his head back to give her better access. "But after that I'm yours on Sunday if you want to do something."
He wasn't just letting her enjoy the playful assault on his skin, as he repositioned to enjoy her better as well. It was not quite as passionate or romantic as they had been, but a bit of making out never hurt anyone, he told himself. To her credit she was ignoring the texts coming in on her phone from work, telling him that she had scheduled the time off and didn't want to think about that place.
"I could go with you to Portland, if you like," he managed to offer at one point. "Perhaps you would find the event more to your liking with a date. I would love to see you as princess ready for a royal ball."
He wasn't sure if it was their shared kisses and caresses that made her face redden and her eyes dart away for a moment. However, that was forgotten when she said that wasn't a good idea. "I am sort of the date of the book's author."