One more update for you this week. Next week is a little nuts for me so I don't know that I'll have anything to post. I am flying across country for a job interview (dream job) on Wednesday, interviewing on Thursday, and flying back on Friday. Needless to say I intend to sleep for 48 hours after that. I'm thinking it will be quite an emotional week because in addition to that interview, I'm hearing back this week about another job that fits that same title of dream job. Thank goodness for a supportive hubby and family who want me to be happy in my career.

Good guesses about the author date for Emma. It's not a romantic date by any means, but I wanted to include a little jealous Killian in my story (I find him adorable). I also wanted Emma to realize that someone could feel that way about her. No worries though. This chapter is fluffy with sides of Roland and Granny, as well as a mention of another couple on OUAT.

Roland was probably the most adorable child she had ever seen, not that she had much to compare him by. And when she and Liam agreed to take him to Granny's during Robin's secret mission, she was sure that it would be an enjoyable experience.

She was wrong.

Children were not exactly easy to get along with and maintain. Between the two older siblings, Elsa was sure they could manage the precocious child. Then he began a list of demands that would make most bank robbers take note in their negotiations. That left her sitting alone in the booth at the diner with Liam escorting the young boy next door to the ice cream shop because it had better rocky road than Granny did. The old woman did not seem at all insulted by the child's revelation and even managed to pass off a coupon so that Liam could also get a scoop for free.

"He's good with kids," the old lady mused, pointing out a spot for one of her staff to clean. "Has that in common with his brother."

Elsa nodded, stirring the lemon garnished water with her straw absently. She did not know how long she sat there quietly before Granny slid into the booth. "You and Emma are so much alike it's scary. I sometimes wonder if you were separated at birth or something."

"That would be a story," the blonde answered. She knew she was in for one of Granny's trademark lectures.

"Both of you have these two great guys trying to get your attention and lavishing you with praise. I dare say that some people would kill for that kind of thing. And you both sit back and pretend that it is not necessarily what you want or on your timeline. Some people would call that selfish, but I call it downright wasteful. You and Emma both push away happiness because you either think you don't deserve it or you still have to do something to attain it. Life isn't a set of scales. You don't get good things or bad because of some force that decides you need a certain amount of both. It's not a recipe where you can measure the ingredients either." The woman sounded a bit winded from her speech as she readjusted the glasses resting on her nose. "I've been on this earth long enough to see your type before. You aren't looking for something better. You're just concerned that you aren't reading the signs right or that it will all be swept away. Don't be that way. Just enjoy what you have."

Elsa dropped her head as she listened to Granny prattle on and on. "You really think I can be happy?"

"I do," the woman said with an affirmative nod. "Happiness is a choice. You can wake up each day and see all the bad things. They are there if you see them or not. Or you can see the good. Either way your day will go on and your life will too. Not to get too nosey, dear, but I've noticed that you smile quite a bit when Liam leans in close to you. What's that about?"

The heat rose to Elsa's cheeks as she recalled the way he would nuzzle or nose at her cheek and neck. He had taken to standing behind her with arms wrapped around her waist when he would do it, making her actually giggle aloud sometimes. "It tickles when he does it, the whiskers on his face and his breath."

Granny nodded as if already knowing the answer to that. "And at night does he snore?"

"Like a bear."

"And which would you rather think about and concentrate on when he comes to mind?" The woman looked ready to wait for an answer until a loud crash occurred in the kitchen. "Never mind, dear. I think we both know the answer to that."

***AAA***

"It wasn't all that scary," Henry said as the trio sat on throw pillows around Emma's coffee table with greasy bags from Granny's tossed about. The plan to eat at the diner was thwarted when Emma recognized Tamara's car outside and realized that they couldn't really be discrete. It hardly mattered at all, as her son was currently singing his own accolades and celebrating his victory over his nerves and his success in the writing competition.

"I told you that it would be completely muscle memory by the time you arrived in front of the judges," Killian said in return. It was one of the few things that he had said since they had left the school earlier. Emma would occasionally look at him quizzically but Henry was more than making up for the lack of conversation. "You've practiced hard. You should be proud of yourself."

Beaming with unadulterated pride, Henry dragged a fry through a glob of ketchup. "Do you think I stand a chance?"

When Killian didn't answer immediately, Emma stepped in and placed a hand on her son's obviously tense shoulder. "I am proud of you no matter what. You did your best and that's all you can do. It's not in your hands now."

Henry chewed thoughtfully, his mind clearly moving a mind a minute. After swallowing and taking a swig of his milkshake, he smiled. "Can we call August to tell him about the writing award? I bet he'd like to know."

She shifted on her pillow and looked toward Killian who was doing his best to appear disinterested. However, the red tint to his ears indicated otherwise. "It's getting kind of late," she said compassionately. "He'll be here this weekend before you go over to Tony and Alex's for the birthday party. You can tell him then."

"Cool," Henry responded, shifting his attention to Killian. "You have to meet August. He writes for a living. Books and stuff."

"Sounds like quite a fellow."

"He's great. He drives a motorcycle. Mom won't let me ride with him, but she has before. I saw. And he has been all these really cool places. Like Tibet and Iowa." The young boy looked annoyed when Emma barely covered her laugh at his using two wildly diverse locations as examples. "Mom!"

"Sorry," she said, leaning conspiratorially toward Killian. He did not sway in her direction at all. "August will be thrilled to hear that you're doing well with writing. You never know with him though. He's kind of flighty when it comes to following through on things. He's supposed to be here this weekend, but I've been stood up a few times by him."

"Yeah," Henry said knowingly. "Like when he meets a new girlfriend. Remember that woman he met when we visited him in New York. She had this tattoo of…"

"Henry!"

That at least earned a small smile from Killian who was still toying with his food more than eating it. Emma's rushed explanations sounded more like excuses and apologies than reason for him not to stew in his jealousy. Emma tried to use it as a bridge, letting her right leg fall and brush against his. His reaction wasn't exactly what she expected, as his muscles tensed and again his jaw ground together.

"Celebrations aside, you've got school tomorrow. I trust you still have homework?"

Looking as though his mother had just informed him that he was going away to military school for the next 10 years, Henry dragged himself to his room, feet shuffling on the carpet. Occasionally he looked over his shoulder at them, only be greeted by Killian's pout and her noncommittal face. "Fine," he finally said, leaning his shoulder into the door. "I'll be in here. You know, if anyone wants me or anything."

"I don't know where he gets the drama from," Emma said, rising up on her knees to begin clearing the coffee table. "I'm not that bad."

She stretched out to reach for the plate that had been Henry's, the position prone for one of Killian's teasing gestures. While she would squeal out his name in mock surprise if he touched her or pinched her bottom as he was likely to do in similar situations, she had come to expect and even want that attention from him. While she wouldn't admit it, she was becoming more likely to put herself into those positions just for that reason. This time he didn't budge except to stack his own leftovers and trash up.

Not wanting to give Henry and excuse to come back in the room away from his homework, Emma spun on her heel and hissed in a quiet voice. "Are you going to tell me what I did wrong or do I have to guess?"

He had a few things he could have said, snarky comebacks that would have taken the sting out of his feelings momentarily. However, it wasn't Emma's fault that he felt insecure enough to be jealous of a man he didn't even know. At least he was logical enough for that. But he also knew she would see through the lie that nothing was the matter.

"You haven't done anything, love," he said carefully. She hadn't. It was on him. He was the one imagining her with this August fellow. He was the one picturing her riding on motorcycles in a slinky dress with her arms around some leather clad author. They had no agreement or arrangement regarding the exclusivity of their relationship, but still the thought of her with another man was eating at him. "It's all me."

"I think I need more to go on." She dumped a few items into the trash and began clearing more of them. Standing up straight and rubbing at the small of her back, she drew in a harsh breath. "This is about Saturday. Killian? Are you jealous of me going out with August?" She gave a sort of snorting laugh. "Oh my God. I didn't say it was a date to make you jealous. That's just what…Please let me explain."

He shook his head, dislodging a bit of the hair that was growing too long and now looked a bit messy. "You don't owe me an explanation, love."

"I do if you're upset about this. I never imagined that…Okay look. You know that I grew up in foster care, right? Well part of that time was in group homes. August was there when I was younger. He eventually got adopted by an older couple who raised him right here in Storybrooke. We were kids together and used to make plans to run away. We were going to live in the basement of a gas station. I don't know why we thought gas stations had basements. And we were going to wait until it closed and then get our food. And movies. We were going to see all the latest movies." She strolled closer to Killian, knowing that he was listening even if he wasn't looking at her. "He was a friend to me when I didn't have one. After I grew up and eventually moved here we ran into each other. It was kind of crazy."

Killian's blue eyes were staring at the rug there in the living room, focusing in on it with laser precision. "It's a lovely tale. Something you could tell your…" He stopped. She didn't deserve that quip.

"Henry's right about him though. He's a womanizing, flirtatious, charming, and not too honest guy sometimes. But he's still a friend of mine. We see each other maybe twice a year and a few emails in between. The last time he stayed overnight here I had to kick him out because he brought home some woman he met at the Rabbit Hole and was attempting to give my son an impromptu performance of body shots." She shook her head with the memory of it. "It's a shame because he's a talented writer. And when he's not high on life itself or tequila, he manages to bang out more award winning work than most writers do in a lifetime."

"Swan, I…"

"Let me finish," she said, having reached his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I used the wrong word. See, August has a book coming out this month. I promised him that I would go to the release with him so that I could keep an eye on him and stop him from doing anything stupid. Two years ago at one of these events he had way too much to drink and ended up in a compromising position with one of the reviewers from the Times. Big scandal and horrible review for him when he never called her afterward. So I promised to be his date this time and keep him drinking more water than alcohol. That's all it is Killian. I would love for you to be there, but it would be distracting." She squeezed his shoulder. "Okay?"

"Love, I don't…You didn't have to explain. I…We aren't…" He sighed, moving away from her touch in a move that showed more disgust with himself than worry. "I don't have a claim to you at all. I'm essentially being a prat to even think that way and worry over it. I apologize."

The corners of her mouth turned downward. "Killian, I know you haven't brought up what exactly we are to each other. Neither have I, which is not really a surprise, but maybe…Okay, here it goes. I am not dating or seeing anyone else. I am not looking to do so either. And I think that maybe…No, scratch that. I know that I'm okay with you being a little jealous or possessive. It's kind of nice to have someone looking out for me or wanting me for himself. I mean there is no need to go overboard, but I do like it. I know that if the shoe was on the other foot that I would have been so jealous and worried that you'd found someone better."

His expression was one of disbelief as he stepped a little closer, bringing his hand up to cup the side of her face. "Emma, that isn't happening. There is no one better for me than you. Granny even said it."

"And whatever Granny says goes?" Reaching up, she grabbed his hand around the fingers and tugged him back over to the couch. He let her pull him into a sitting position, not fighting back as she did so and threw one of her legs over his. Clearly she was saying this incident was coming to close.

"Aye, the woman is wise. Not to mention I may have made up my own mind to that too." His hang dog expression was much better, the small smile on his lips made it all the way to his eyes. "I'm hopeful that maybe you're seeing me in the same light."

"I don't think there was ever any doubt for me that you are pretty awesome," she said, taking back up her task of showing him that she was capable of recognizing his goodness. "You're smart, kind, great with Henry and other kids, a terrific listener, a pretty good kisser…" Her list continued with her lips punctuating each attribute with tiny pecks along his jawline and cheeks. He would occasionally grunt or even snort at her assessments. He did protest her weak analysis of his kissing and other amorous prowess.

"I think the lass finds me rather dashing," he said, his voice low and gravely as he wrapped his arms around her even tighter. "I'm a lucky man."

"With no reason to feel jealous," Emma said pointedly. "You know, if it bothers you that much, I can cancel. August can find another chaperone/wing man."

For a moment she thought that he might ask her to do that, as relief floods his eyes. But he again surprises her with a quick kiss to her lips before saying that he is not going to ask her to do that. "It means so much that you would be willing, love, but I have no intentions of making that request."

She considered that for a quiet moment, his forehead dropping against hers. "I'm not exactly sure how good I'll be at keeping him out of trouble," she mused. "My mind is going to be elsewhere, specifically here with you."

"Perhaps after your little soiree you might like to have a drink with me?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, which made her titter uncontrollably as she leaned her face into the crook of his neck. "It could be your reward for being a good friend."

The kiss they shared was not like the others had been, his feelings still raw and just under the surface. There was a neediness to it on both their parts, lips and teeth crashing and tongues meeting. She tried to tell him through that kiss that she was his if that was what he wanted, words she wasn't quite ready to say or even hear.

Between the repeated meeting of their lips, she smiled into the movements. "It's getting kind of late," she said before drawing his bottom lip between hers. When she released him again some time later, she panted out an invitation. "I mean if you want to, you could stay here."

***AAA***

Liam was not sure he wanted to know why his brother's text saying he wasn't returning that night was riddled with three misspellings in the eight words. He was happy for the man he had helped to raise, thrilled that he seemed to have found someone he could really love and let love him in return. However, he did not need the mental image of whatever it was that was distracting him from his usual accuracy and precision with the English language.

Roland had finally tired out after the long walk back from Granny's and the ice cream parlor. His incessant chatting creating an entertaining and fun mood as he and Elsa both held one of the lad's hands in their own. While she had said she was not exactly a seasoned babysitter, Elsa had charmed the little boy instantly. It was a bit hard to admit that he found himself jealous when Roland found his way into Elsa's lap and fell into a near trance of enchanted pleasure at the sounds of the beautiful woman singing him a softly sweet lullaby.

"You could record that and make a mint off these mothers who go on the organic, free range parenting kicks. They could sell your lullaby CD's and downloads next to the cash registers at coffee shops that serve soy instead of whole milk."

"I don't think that is my audience." She had handed Roland off to Liam who carried him to the oversized and overstuffed chair in corner. It was the perfect temporary bed for someone of the boy's small stature.

She raised an eyebrow at him for offering her a beer, pointing out that they were on child watching duty. However, he was not dissuaded, pointing out that they had been recruited and not being judged on their professionalism. "I'm not daft enough to suggest getting wasted with a child in our care, darling. I'm simply saying I could use a bit of a nip and so could you."

Elsa may have called him a dork, but she accepted the brown bottle and sipped from it as he gulped his. When Robin did manage to show back up, he had to knock twice to roust them. After a discussion of color scheme and furniture placement had turned into watching a culinary challenge show had left Elsa sleeping against his shoulder, the house was quiet and dimly lit. Liam claimed he had been asleep too, but had been more interested in watching her sleep than actually shutting his eyes himself.

Gingerly extricating himself from her, Liam had answered the door and carried Roland out to the car. "You going to tell me where you were and why it is such a big secret?"

Robin squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at one of his temples. "It wasn't all that much of a secret. I had a meeting to get to and John was too busy to watch the boy tonight. Thank you for filling in."

"A meeting?" Liam repeated, letting the word dance around in the cold night air. "Nope, don't buy it. Mate, you're a horrible liar. Just who was this meeting with? And why was it at night and not during business hours?" Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned his hip into the car. "Hmmm?" The long breath that Robin exhaled reminded Liam of a man requesting a cigarette before going to the firing squad. "Come now, let's be having it."

"I met with someone from the production company," he answered, the telltale squeak of his dishonesty piping up in his tone.

"Ahhh," Liam said. "And this wouldn't have been Emma was it?" Liam was aware that Emma was with his brother currently and not meeting clients. All of their meetings so far had been with the band as a whole or with Liam individually. "Because you are digging your hole deep, mate."

Robin's answer was nearly inaudible to which Liam asked him to repeat it. Closing one eye and scrunching his face as if ready for a fist, Robin looked toward his friend. "Regina."

Attempting not to appear too surprised, Liam tried for a thoughtful nod. "I see then. And she would be singling you out to talk about the band why?"

"She wasn't exactly singling me out. It was more of a social thing."

"Bloody hell!" Liam raged. "You're shagging the head of the production company and didn't think to share that bit of news with the rest of us. What happens when it all goes sideways? Regina Mills and her sister have been known to not renew or back contracts when they didn't like a haircut a musician got. Are you daft?"

"It's not like that," Robin protested. "I'm not putting anyone at risk here. Not like you."

The groan that Liam emitted was more like a moose and bear hybrid. "I've bloody well apologized for that. But you are walking right into this with your eyes open. Regina? Really? How did this even come about?"

Robin reluctantly told Liam that their earlier meeting with the head of the recording company had led to him feeling attracted to her. He had no intention of acting on it, but things had happened. When out shopping for groceries, he had run into her. The same happened when he stopped for gas. Slowly they had begun to talk and chat. When she accidentally left her phone in his car one day, he had stopped by to return it. He hadn't meant to ask her out, but it had happened. And now they saw each other a few times during the week. John, the man across the hall from Robin and Roland, was a longtime friend and faithful helper to him. However, this one night he had come in search of Killian who rarely asked questions about his whereabouts.

"You do realize that Will is going to want a shot at you," Liam said shaking his head. "He's pretty much anti-relationship with any of us."

"That's rich coming from a man who has been involved with Anastasia for longer than most of us have owned a pair of socks."

***AAA***

Henry did not seem all that shocked to see Killian there that morning. When his music teacher padded into the kitchen to see if he could find a bit of coffee before heading back to his own place to get ready, Henry did not even break his argument that he should be allowed to stay by himself in the afternoons.

"I'm not five," Henry protested as Emma placed cereal bowls on the counter. Killian was not even sure he could concentrate on the debate as he stared at Emma's long legs and his shirt covering her upper body. "I won't burn the place down."

"I don't think we're ready for this yet," Emma protested, wiping her hand on the cotton capri sleep pants she was wearing. "Between the two albums I'm helping produce, a development deal for four songs, and a new band I'm scouting, you're going to barely see me as it is. You have a choice…Mary Margaret or Granny and Ruby. That's it." When Killian stepped around her to check the level of her coffee maker, she smiled and wished him a good morning. "Or we can call your dad and see if he has a better idea."

Making a face, the boy sat defeated in his chair. "Is it going to be this way this summer too? Am I going to be stuck with a sitter?"

Emma tore her eyes away from Killian and his obvious attempts to ignore the conversation and appear nonchalant in her kitchen. He was doing a good job except for that nervous scratching behind the ear thing he did. She knew then that she should ask him about that sometime, especially if he ever thought about playing poker. "Henry, this is not the time for this. We aren't having this discussion. Now finish getting ready so I don't have to go into the school this morning and check you in through the attendance office. It's not exactly fun for me to get those death glares from that woman."

Sweeping his arm over the table in front of him, he dragged away his backpack. "Fine," he said with his best martyr voice. "If you want to be alone with Killian, you just had to say so. I'll be back in a few minutes."

She was going to have to have a talk with him about saying whatever should happen to pop into his mind. But that would have to wait, she reconciled as she pulled at Killian's arm and he came closer to her willingly. The kiss they shared was by far not their most passionate, but the scents of shampoo and soap mingled nicely. She had to admit that while still odd it was a nice feeling to have him there in the morning.

"He wasn't all wrong about my motive," she said, one arm circling around him as the other hand was still holding the box of cereal. "I know it's a little awkward, but I did like waking up with you this morning."

He ran the tip of his tongue over his lips, trying to savor a bit of her taste. "Aye, it is a pleasure, but you didn't think I'd notice the shirt?" She stared at him blankly until he gestured with his nose at the shirt that hangs on her, buttoned and no longer as starched or neat as the last time he wore it. "Stealing right out of my bag is a bothersome habit, love."

She squinted down at the shirt as if she didn't even realize that she had done it and back at him, nose crinkling and her head to the side. "It's comfy?"

"I've always thought so. However, I would think you probably own quite a few comfy frocks. And I am far from complaining. A wise man once told me there was nothing so sexy as a woman wearing a man's own shirt."

Her familiar eye roll did not deter his smirk in the least. "I think that refers to a woman wearing nothing but a man's shirt. And I'm afraid I had to be a bit more dressed than that to avoid the psychiatric bills and trauma for my son."

***AAA***

Elsa was dressed much the same, except she was able to forgo the sleep pants and leave her long legs bare and curled under her as she blew into her coffee much to the amusement of Liam. He told her that she was such a child to do that, scared of burning her tongue. Then he offered to retrieve an ice cube for her if she should require it.

Her hair was usually tightly wound in a braided design that he had come to view as a work of art or brushed until it shone like spun gold cascading down her back and over her shoulders. Yet there was something about the messy bun she was currently sporting with loose and uneven tendrils that she had to keep pushing out of her face. Without her usual make up she looked younger than her years and sweetly vulnerable with hands wrapped around a mug that bore the word captain from some gag gift from his naval buddies.

"I apologize for the condition of my room," he said folding the newspaper back into place. "I didn't intend to invite you to sleep over on an air mattress."

"I'm not a princess, Liam," she protested. "I've slept in much more uncomfortable places. And besides you made a really nice pillow."

Beaming at her, he bent his head to kiss the tip of her shoulder that was peeking out from his shirt. "Careful, darling. Anyone hearing that would think you were saying I have turned soft. I'll have you know that I am still in brilliant shape. Once a sailor always a sailor and all that."

She loosened her hands on the mug and reached one finger out to poke him in his abdomen, delighting when he sucked in a breath to avoid laughing. "I think you're just right."

His eyes sparkled with glee as she her hand linger, running over the taut muscles that showed no signs of atrophy at all. "And that makes you sound like Goldilocks."

"Better than some silly princess waiting on her prince to save her," Elsa declared before nipping at his lip and then pulling back. "But if you were the prince I wouldn't mind so much. We might have to look at saving each other on occasion."

"It has understandably been a while since I read the classic fairy tales. Killian never much liked me to read those to him as much as adventure tales and the like. But was there a prince in Goldilocks. I only seem to recall three bears." He snaked his hand over to remove the coffee that she had specifically requested that morning and still not taken a sip from. She didn't protest as he put it aside.

"You could be one of the bears," she said, sliding downward on the couch and more into his embrace. "Dangerous, hairy, gruff, I'm thinking those describe you."

He practically howled with laughter before his mouth was on hers again in that mix of tender and rough that she could only seem to recall being something of him. He was kissing her firmly and yet with a gentle yearning as her mouth opened to the request of his and their tongues danced together. Without explanation or excuse, he showed off those muscles she had teased him about and lifted her into his arms to walk her back to the air mattress of a bed that he was trying not to be ashamed of at his age. Thankfully they made it back to his room minutes before Killian arrived back to change for the day, avoiding awkward conversations and further patients for Dr. Hopper.

Thanks for reading and all your comments. I love knowing what you're thinking about these adorable couples. I did make mention of Outlaw Queen here, but it won't factor much into the rest of the story. I simply wanted to include it because I am going to miss Sean Maguire on the show.