#csoneshots

 One or two students waved, a few others smiled and as they filed out she couldn't help but make a few guesses as to which ones would drop.  But, she sighed, her job wasn't to worry about each individual student who dropped, it was to make sure that those who stayed got what they paid for...or what their parents paid for, anyway.  "Cynical much?" she muttered, cramming the papers into her bag before shutting off the lights and hurrying out the door. 

Emma took the stairs to her office on the fourth floor and with an hour left before she needed to leave to meet Mary Margaret, sat down to grade the exams.  She made it through three of them before her attention wandered to her laptop and the possibility that a new message might have arrived from Clark, as she hadn't heard from him in a few days.  Had he returned from his business trip?  Or maybe she should be asking herself was when had she started to care?

 December 2017 

Since moving to Miami, Emma, as well as many of her colleagues, spent the holidays at the home of their boss, David Nolan.  As the Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences, he worked hard to make sure that no one was alone over the holidays, and as Emma was best friends with his wife, Mary Margaret, she found she didn't mind. However, as the years went on and the number of single faculty decreased, it seemed that everyone had someone they wanted her to meet. The problem was, how could they know exactly what Emma needed when Emma didn't even know? 

Mary Margaret said she needed her very own Prince Charming, which was how she described David.  Emma wasn't so sure.  She liked David...a lot...and he was a great boss, but to be married to someone like that, she just wasn't sure. 

Belle told her she needed a bad boy, like the man she had married.  But, once again, while she could definitely say there were some aspects of the bad boy that had attracted her in the past...she didn't think she could marry him.

 Her past romances had taught her what she didn't want, but what did appeal to her?  Someone who challenged her…yet cared about her opinion.  Someone who was caring, witty and not afraid to say he was sorry.  Someone who would sweep her off her feet when she needed him yet allowed her to walk alone. A man who, like a pirate in the night, would sneak up and steal her heart so effortlessly that she would never want to let him go.  Who was he? Where was he?  Was he someone she had yet to meet? 

The group this year had been smaller and while it had been an enjoyable day, Emma was ready to go home and curl up with her six-month-old kitten, Ginger.  She said her goodbyes and was just opening her car door when Mary Margaret came running down the walk.  "Emma, hold on," she huffed, "you forgot your gift." 

Emma took the green envelope and frowned a little. "You gave me my gift the other day.  What's this?" 

"Well," Mary Margaret began, but her body language and the way she seemed to struggle for the right words served to put Emma on guard. "David and I just want you to be as happy as we are so we kind of..." 

Her hesitation had the hairs on the back of Emma's neck standing straight up and convinced her that she was most likely not going to like it.  "What did you do?" she asked hesitantly. 

Mary Margaret took a deep breath. "Just read the letter and remember...we love you." Then she quickly hugged her and with a little wave disappeared back inside. 

With a shake of her head, Emma tossed the envelope onto the passenger seat and drove home.  Once inside, her curiosity got the better of her and she ripped the envelope open and pulled out several sheets of paper.  The letter was from a dating site she had heard about from some of her friends called Magical Matches, whose slogan was “Your True Love is only a keystroke away.” With a roll of her eyes at the matchmaking persistence of her friends, she tossed the letter on her desk deciding she would deal with it later. 

For a week Emma moved the letter from one place on her desk to another, but never had the desire to read what it had to say. And since Mary Margaret and David had left on a cruise, she didn't have to explain herself either.  Which left the door open for her to turn down several invitations for New Year's Eve and welcome in 2018 her way...movies, champagne and her favorite dessert. 

The day had been perfect.  She lounged in bed until Ginger insisted it was time to eat, and then after a run to her favorite bakery she had settled in with a cup of hot chocolate and an excessively large bearclaw. She made it through The Sound of Music before taking a small break to entertain Ginger and then dove back into The Promise. 

A grilled cheese and a bottle of water carried her through An Officer and a Gentleman and The Lake House.  And then she pulled out dessert and cut a piece of her hazelnut cheesecake with chocolate drizzle that she had picked up earlier and popped the cork on the champagne.  With those in hand, Emma sank down onto the sofa and sang along with the songs that were in the movie Pretty Woman. 

Halfway through the bottle of champagne, she decided to watch Ghost, and as the last drop of bubbly was poured into her glass, her tears started to fall.  Why was she alone on New Year's Eve?  If there was a man just for her, where was he? 

As one year gave way to the next, Emma pressed play on the movie that seemed to have the man of her dreams.  He was a dichotomy in that one side was shy, awkward and unsure while his alter ego was cocky, confident and caring.  And while he had been portrayed many times by many actors, none quite pulled off both side as well as Christopher Reeve. 

As she watched Clark Kent's shy puppy behavior around Lois Lane, Emma found herself with such a goofy smile on her face that she had to look away. Unfamiliar feelings were coming to the surface, but before she gave them too much thought, her attention was diverted when Ginger jumped up on her desk and started batting everything onto the floor. "Feeling left out?" she crooned, picking up the kitten and cleaning up the mess she'd made, which included a pile of papers. 

Stacking the papers neatly proved to be more difficult than it should have been, as little paws were busy swatting at everything that moved.  Emma tossed one of Ginger's toys, thinking she would run after it and had just straightened the pile when, with one jump, the kitten landed in the middle and everything scattered everywhere again. "Ginger!" 

"Mew," Ginger responded, looking up at her with such an innocent expression that Emma couldn't help but pick her up and hug her. 

"What am I going to do with you?" Emma murmured softly, her eyes landing on the letter from Magical Matches.  Unsure what caused her to open it, Emma picked up the letter and sank down onto her desk chair to read. 

Dear LostGirl, 

Your Magical Match is CapnJolly. Whether you contact him or not is up to you, but if you choose to do so, please follow the instructions on the included page. 

Best of Luck, Ruby Lucas President Magical Matches 

Emma stared at the words on the page for so long that Ginger batted at her arm for attention.  Should she or should she not?   

Her gaze was drawn back to the television screen that was showing Superman turning back time to save Lois Lane, and she made her decision. She wanted to find that someone who would jump with her. Before she could change her mind, Emma read the directions for signing into the server and composed her email: 

Dear CapnJolly, 

My friends gave me this as a Christmas gift and while I am skeptical about it really working, I decided why not. 

I'm looking for someone, not to follow, but to walk by my side.  Someone who can see through walls that aren't impenetrable and leap the ones that are. Someone whose weakness is really his strength and who loves me for what I am and not for what he wants me to be. 

I've not found him yet and really don't have high hopes that I ever will, but I promised my friends I would give it a try and that...that is important. 

Your Magical Match, 

LostGirl 

A quick proof was all she allowed herself before she hit send because she knew that if she thought too long about it, she would end up deleting it.  This way, it was done.   

Early February 2018 

He had written back the next day and somehow through the various computer conversations, she had grown to look forward to hearing from him.  They had discussed everything from their favorite books to their favorite movies and had even spent several exchanges talking about pasta.  He knew she wasn't a morning person, ate Pop-Tarts for breakfast and enjoyed walks on the beach. 

But...he didn't know who her best friend was, that she was a professor at a university in Miami or her real name.  There were some parts of herself she needed to keep close...for privacy, she tried to tell herself, but really for protection, for as long as the wall was up...she was safe.  Or was she? 

Her phone was in her hand before she realized it, her thumb hovered over the app to open it, but since there was no notification, Emma set the phone aside and finished grading the test she had started before getting lost in memories. Once she was done, she dropped her pen, locked her office, and had taken less than ten steps when she heard her name being called from behind and, knowing who it was, fought to keep from ducking into the women's room just ahead. But since it was her boss...and her best friend's husband, she plastered a smile on her face and slowly turned around. "David, what committee are you trying to fill now?" she asked him with resignation. 

"No committees, Emma," David smiled, "I just want you to meet the man who will be taking over Belle's classes while she's out with the new baby." 

"Oh?" Emma's brow went up as she sized up the man standing next to David. "I thought you were going to spread her classes around." 

"Well," David put his hand on the man's shoulder, "I didn't know that the brother of one of my dearest friends would be available so...let me introduce Killian Jones." 

"Emma Swan." She shook his hand while trying to remember where she had seen him, and while making small talk, surreptitiously studied him.  Not quite as tall as David, dark hair he wore longish, but gelled back except for a few strands that fell over a high forehead, square jaw that was clean shaven, smallish ears tight to his head and blue eyes rimmed by dark lashes that were covered with a pair of oversized dark glasses.   

He wore dark pants, white shirt with a muted tie, covered by a tweed jacket, and in his hand he was holding a fedora...just like Clark Kent come to life. "No, Killian...Killian Jones," he repeated, and she realized she must have voiced her thoughts aloud. 

"I'm sorry," Emma hastened to add, "I've got to run. I have a lunch meeting." And before she could embarrass herself or David any further, walked away.  Rude, perhaps...but for some reason being in the company of Killian Jones gave her a strange feeling. 

She looked back as she started down the stairs and both were still standing there with their mouths hanging open.  She shrugged, "It's your wife, David. You know how grumpy she gets if someone is late." 

As she walked across campus to the Shalala Student Center, Emma thought about how David had smiled and waved her off as he was used to her behavior, but Killian Jones had looked almost relieved. "That's odd," she muttered, spotting Mary Margaret across the room seated next to a window. 

"What's wrong?" her friend asked before Emma was even situated in the chair. 

Emma frowned. "David just introduced me to the person taking Belle's classes and I know him...but from where, I'm not sure...yet." Then it hit her and after an excited inhalation, she continued, "Remember that conference I went to last fall and I---" 

"Complained about one of the speakers for weeks?" Mary Margaret finished her sentence. 

"Yes," Emma shook her head, "it's him.  His ideas were really..." Simplistic, archaic...annoying, she thought.  "But I don't want to talk about him.  Let me fill you in on Clark." 

~~~CS~~~ 

When Emma left, Killian slowly let go of the breath he was holding, as he hadn't been interested in a confrontation with a colleague so soon after joining the team. 

"Sorry about that," David interrupted his thoughts to make excuses for the Swan girl. "Emma can be prickly, but she's a fine instructor and has co-published with another professor in the area of psychophysiology.” 

Killian didn't say anything, just nodded his head in a 'that's alright' motion, as he much preferred observing to confrontation anyway.  Besides, it seemed that Emma apparently had a very comfortable working relationship with his soon to be boss and he didn't want to get off on the wrong foot.  And that was on a professional front...on the personal front, he would hate to create any issues, as Liam would kill him. 

He followed David as he was shown around the college, but once they left the Flipse Building behind and started walking across the campus, Killian could finally relax.  The warm temperatures and soft breeze were a welcome change from the snowy cold of Wisconsin and the damp cold of London.  So much so, in fact, that he found himself second-guessing his wool tweed jacket and fedora. 

"Here we are," David indicated the modern building in front of him, "our 46-million-dollar student center." 

"That's a lot of money." Killian looked on in amazement at the chrome and glass structure surrounded by lush, tropical landscape. 

"Donors with deep pockets," David intoned, leading him around the building. "These gliders okay?" he asked, pointing to a patio dotted with wooden seating areas. 

Killian looked out over the sparkling lake surrounded by green grass and nodded, "It's fine, mate."   

David led them to a wooden table, flanked by benches and covered with a wooden umbrella, and slid onto one side. Killian followed suit, sliding onto the one across and when it surprised him by moving, he unceremoniously fell, almost slipping off the seat, knocking his glasses askew. 

"You okay?" David asked quietly. 

Killian blushed and straightened his glasses while hastily looking around to see if anyone had noticed. "Fine, fine.  I just...ugh...slipped." He ran his finger from one side to the other under his collar, thinking that he was feeling a tad warm. 

"You're not too hot, are you?"  David asked just as the wind whipped around them. 

The breeze served to cool him down a little, but even with the pomade in his hair, it was strong enough to blow an unruly lock over his forehead. "I might have to rethink my jackets while I'm down here." 

David grinned as their orders were set in front of them. "Ditch the jacket.  We're a pretty loose group.  One of our faculty comes to work in board shorts and flip flops." He shrugged, "As long as you're decent and do the job." 

Killian couldn't quite see coming to work in shorts but thought perhaps a lighter wardrobe might be in order.   

With the gentle movement of the seats and the steady hum of the fountain, he found that his attention kept drifting to an email he needed to write. He wanted to share this new opportunity but worried it would be crossing some unspoken line that she had arbitrarily set up between them. "I could get used to this," he found himself uttering. 

David laughed. "Well...we do have a faculty member retiring in May, so..." he left it hanging in the air. 

Could he live in a place of perpetual sunshine, across the pond from his brother and family and friends?  "I'll keep that in mind," he finally managed, but decided it was definitely something to think about. 

While they ate, Killian was content to allow David to carry the conversation.  He parceled out information on the school, places he thought Killian should visit, restaurants he frequented and tidbits about his wife, Mary Margaret before segueing into escapades he and Liam had been involved in when they had met at University. 

Killian had just popped a salty chip into his mouth when he heard, "David, I didn't expect you to be here," and a dark-headed woman leaned over and kissed his dining companion, answering his question about her identity. 

His eyes were drawn to those of the woman standing next to the dean's wife and the iciness of her green stare answered his question as to whether or not her antagonism had been his imagination.  Her eyes skittered away first, moving to the vicinity of his chest and feeling his face flame, his gaze moved out to the lake. 

Killian listened to David speak to his wife, finding that he envied the easiness with which they spoke.  When he was introduced, his habits of old kicked in and after a brief hello, he sat back and answered only when spoken to, feeling as if the words were lodged in his head, but unable to be spoken.  Only when he was communicating with... 

"David, Doctor Jones," Emma interrupted his thought and tipped her head in farewell as she moved to follow her friend. 

"Whoa," David's brows rose, "what did you do to upset Emma?" 

Killian didn't really feel the need to explain the whole misunderstanding over the paper he presented and just shook his head. "Professional differences, I suppose.  You know how psychologists' philosophies often differ from those of sociologists," he finally settled on. 

David studied him for an extra second. "That I do.  I need to head back now, is there anything else I can help with?" 

"Point me toward the Metrorail?" 

~~~CS~~~ 

Emma was expecting Mary Margaret to say something about her treatment of Jones, and so when they had walked around the lake and her friend hadn't said anything, she couldn't stand it any longer. "I know I was rude, but he..." 

"Gets under your skin.  I know." Mary Margaret sent her a quick grin. "But he's cute." 

A snort burst forth before Emma could contain it. "Kind of like a puppy dog.  Did you see the chip crumbs on his tie?" 

"He just needs a good woman to help bring him out of his shell." Her friend laughed. 

"Maybe," Emma agreed, "but that's not me. After all, I've got..." 

"Clark, I know," Mary Margaret said with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. 

Once back in her office Emma continued with her grading, not stopping until she was finished.  She had just completed adding all the grades to the computer gradebook when her phone buzzed.  A glance at the notification sent a little thrill through her system. "Clark," she giggled excitedly as she swiped the app to read the message. 

~~~CS~~~ 

Killian had rented an apartment overlooking Biscayne Bay, steps away from Bayside Marketplace and an easy commute by train to the University. He had chosen the place not only for the scenery, but because it offered a large balcony, which he had been drawn to the minute he had walked in the door.  Large glass windows lined the back wall revealing the blue water of the Bay for as far as the eye could see. And as a sailor, even if it was just for recreational purposes, the blue, blue sea calmed him and soothed his soul. 

Since he had been in residence, he had discovered a pattern in his behavior when he returned to the apartment. Upon entering, with a flick of his wrist his hat would land on the table, his jacket and tie would be flung over the sofa, and as he unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt with one hand the other grabbed his laptop as he gravitated to the balcony. Symbiotic...or at least it seemed that way to him, for it needed him to enjoy its beauty as much he needed its ability to soothe him. 

"And today's no different." Killian stretched his legs in front of him and watched the water below, noting the coming and going of the tour boats.  He had thought about taking one of the cruises but felt more of a need to be the one in control, which was unlike him.  Different from any time in his life he could remember, making him question what had caused the change.  Or better yet...who? 

January 2018 

The new year was only a few hours old, and while Killian had enjoyed spending the evening with his niece, Piper, he couldn't help but wonder when he would find his own Buttercup. That wasn't something he often thought about because, generally, he was happy with his life. He taught classes, did research, wrote and spent time with his family.  But there had been something different about this year's New Year's Eve. He had watched The Princess Bride with his niece and found himself feeling...lonely...bereft even...as if something...or someone...was missing. 

It wasn’t long before he found himself sitting down at the piano, his fingers running over the keys, almost subconsciously picking out the notes to the theme song from the movie he had been watching. But that didn’t seem to help the restless feeling he had and eventually pushed up from the piano, eventually settling in a chair losing himself in thought. 

"Killian?" He looked up as Elsa came into the room. "Any trouble tonight?" 

He sent her a small smile. "Not at all. Why would you say that?" 

"No reason," she shrugged a shoulder, "you just appeared...I don't know...lonely, I guess." 

He surprised himself by answering quietly, "I was just wondering about my Buttercup." 

"Oh?" Liam's voice joined the conversation, "Something to share, Little Brother?" 

Killian shook his head, almost wishing he hadn't said anything. "Just a comment after watching your daughter's favorite movie, that's all." 

Killian watched Liam and Elsa exchange a look that said a lot, but what exactly he wasn't privy to, and then Liam disappeared in the direction of his study only to reappear with a red envelope in his hand. "Take a chance, Killian." He handed the envelope over before holding his hand out to Elsa. 

Elsa leaned over, kissing Killian on the cheek and then wrapped her arm around Liam as he came to his feet, "Love is worth it. Night, Killian." They moved down the hall toward their room and Killian was left alone with his thoughts. 

It had taken him a few days before his curiosity led him to open the envelope, and by the time he had, the letter from his magical match had been waiting for over a day. 

Dear CapnJolly, 

My friends gave me this as a Christmas gift and while I am skeptical about it really working, I decided why not. 

I'm looking for someone, not to follow, but to walk by my side.  Someone who can see through walls that aren't impenetrable and leap the ones that are. Someone whose weakness is really his strength and who loves me for what I am and not for what he wants me to be. 

I've not found him yet and really don't have high hopes that I ever will, but I promised my friends I would give it a try and that...that is important. 

Your Magical Match,

LostGirl 

"She's looking for a bloody Superman," Killian mumbled, pushing away from his desk to pace in front of it.  "How's a normal bloke expected to live up to that?" He stopped pacing long enough to stare in the mirror at his image. "You're certainly no Superman," he told the man looking back at him.  "But, maybe you could be his alter-ego, Clark Kent.  With that in mind, he sat back down to try to put together a response that didn't make him sound like an arse. 

Dear LostGirl, 

I, too, am skeptical of this process working but was reminded recently that skepticism is often the first step to a great discovery.  And since one can only truly fail if they don't try, I would like to see if I'm up to the task of breaking down a few of your walls, much like the man of steel. 

I am looking for someone who is loyal and willing to fight for what she wants.  Someone who isn't interested in trying to change me, but who accepts me for the man I am.  Someone who loves me enough that even after years together, it is always as exciting as the first time.  Someone who challenges my mind and allows me to challenge hers. 

Are you willing to roll down the mountain with me? 

Your Magical Match, 

CapnJolly 

~~~CS~~~ 

February 2018 

Killian admitted that he had sent that first email mainly out of curiosity, but it hadn't taken many exchanges before one day he had signed his message as Superman's alter-ego, Clark.  It hadn't been planned, but had just happened, and she had understood...and with her signature, she become his Buttercup. And now, four weeks after their initial emails...she mattered, and that was cause for concern.  The anonymity made it simple, as he didn't have to worry about saying the wrong thing because each and every word he wrote had been thought out. The awkwardness that he felt around women that caused him to inevitably do or say something foolish wasn't a problem because the more he corresponded with his Buttercup, the easier it became.  The ease hadn't transferred to other women though, as today with Emma Swan, he had been tongue-tied and felt like a gauche teen. Not a promising start to the next few months. 

The revving of a boat motor served to pull his attention back to the task at hand, that of composing a new message for his magical match. He had some things he wanted to share with her, but while he had been open about his likes and dislikes, he was still holding his identity, his family and his location close.  Why, he couldn't say, but something told him that his Buttercup wasn't quite ready for taking that next step.  He still needed to scale a wall or two. 

Opening his computer, he started typing, but for every word that he wrote, he deleted two.  It took him the better part of an hour to get the right tone, to get the right words, but once he had written everything out, he hit send.  No second thoughts.  Once sent, his heart fluttering in his chest and his nerves skittering along his skin, he couldn't stay inside any longer. A quick change into running shorts and Killian headed to the beach to run. 

~~~CS~~~ 

The message from Clark wasn't long, but many of their messages weren't.  They had fallen into the habit of asking each other a simple question, or of relaying information.  It was a way to share pieces of themselves without going too far out on the limb.  Or, in her role of Buttercup, a way to take a few steps down the hill, or if necessary a few steps back up the hill.  Safe...but still satisfying...and exciting. This time was different though, as he had shared more about his location and even asked for her help. 

Dear Buttercup, 

I'm sorry I've not been in touch for a few days, but I've recently sailed into a new harbor.  For the next few months, I'll be sailing where the sun shines and the water is warm.  The only problem is that I find myself at odds with one of my shipmates and I am vexed as to how to repair the rift.  Would you have any words of wisdom for this weary sailor? 

Yours, 

Clark 

She read the message through once...and then read it through once more, but this time very slowly. She kept thinking that taken at face value, his words meant one thing, but that maybe there was a hidden message too. However, after several minutes of coming up with no answer, she decided to answer him once she had returned home.  Ginger had been alone too long and if she were bored, who knew what she would get into. 

Emma lived in a small neighborhood in the town of Coconut Grove, located not far from the University.  It was a small community located within the city of Miami but was easily accessed via the Metrorail and close to the shops at Bayside Marketplace and the night life and beaches of South Beach.  Most days she took the train but knowing that she would be staying late grading papers she had driven. Now as she dealt with the rush hour traffic along the US-1, she had second and third thoughts, finally driving into her driveway an hour after leaving her office.   

With a slight hesitancy as to the mess she might be walking into, Emma unlocked and slowly pushed open the door.  She took a step into the foyer and when the floor was clear let out the breath that she was holding.  Shutting the door behind her, she dropped her briefcase onto a side table and turned around to hang up her jacket when, out of the corner of her eye, an orange flash ran around a corner.   

"Ginger?" The kitten was gone but trailing across the floor was a strand of cream colored yarn that matched the afghan that Mary Margaret had given her for Christmas.  "No, no, no," she repeated rapidly running to the T.V. room to find it spread across the floor. "Ginger," she groaned picking it up, finding where the mischievous kitten had found a loose strand and had taken off.  Holding it tightly in one hand to keep the blanket from further unraveling, she followed the trail that led down the hall and around a corner into her bedroom where the kitten had gotten sidetracked by her hair ribbons, now spread around the room.   

Emma quickly picked up the ribbons, tossed them on the dresser and went looking for the kitten.  She wasn't in the kitchen but she had been, as her box of toys had been upended and its contents were spread across the floor. Ginger wasn't in the study either, however there was evidence of her as she had knocked her pens off the desk, which left the bathrooms.  Emma could hear the kitten before ever entering the room and, as expected, found her destroying a roll of toilet paper. 

"Ginger!" Emma picked up the kitten and tucked her under one arm and then picked up the mess. "What am I going to do with you?" she asked her friend carrying her into the kitchen and setting her on the floor while she got out the kitten food.  Once Ginger had her nose in the kitten food, Emma set her sights on her own meal, finally settling on a slice of cold pizza and dropping down in front of her computer. 

Clark's question about advice to help sort out a disagreement between co-workers reminded her of her feelings regarding Killian Jones.  Having sat in on a portion of a presentation he had given, she had left early after hearing him say that growing up in the foster system was what caused social deviance. What would she need to change her mind? Was there anything?  Maybe there was, she thought as she sat down to type out her message. 

~~~CS~~~ 

Killian spent the next several days thinking about what Buttercup had suggested while he went about his professorial duties. Preparing lectures and PowerPoint presentations to match the students’ needs ended up taking extra time, but once that was complete, he went back and reread the last message. 

Dear Clark, 

Rifts are often caused by a misunderstanding. Perhaps if you can figure out where the misunderstanding occurred, you can clear that up. 

Good luck, 

Your Buttercup 

He knew exactly what had caused the rift between him and Emma Swan as it had to do with a paper he had presented on social deviance.  All he had to do was figure out why she'd had such a visceral response to his presentation...and correct it. Simple, right? 

"Killian?" He turned to greet David, who happened to be standing next to a man wearing board shorts and flip-flops. 

"David, how are things?" 

Pleasantries exchanged, David introduced his companion, "I'd like you to meet August Booth. August, Killian is covering for Belle." 

After a few conversational exchanges, David excused himself and Killian and August began walking back to their offices. Along the way, August shared a few more pieces of information about his specialty as well as filling him in on a few idiosyncrasies of the other faculty members.  "Had any run-ins with anyone yet?" 

"Not really, no." Killian tugged on his right ear, and straightened his glasses, habits he was aware of resorting to when he felt uncomfortable. 

"That look is telling me there's more in what you're not saying. Come on, spill," August encouraged. 

Killian didn't respond right away but waited until they were in his office.  He leaned back against his desk and looked over the man standing in front of him, deciding perhaps he could fit another piece to the puzzle. "Nothing, really...just...Emma Swan took offense with a paper I presented last fall, but I'm unsure as to why."  He picked up a copy of the paper, handing it to August. 

"Creating Social Deviants in the Foster System; A Case Study," August read aloud. "This was the paper?" 

"Aye," Killian answered. "What about it?" 

"It's not really my story to tell," August prefaced before continuing, "but Emma was raised in the foster system and so this--" 

"--is a touchy subject." Killian finished his sentence.  "I get it now.  Thanks, mate." 

"Anytime." August handed back the pape.  "I’ve got to run, but if you ever want to go wakeboarding or windsurfing, let me know." 

Once he was gone, Killian dropped down onto his desk chair and tried to figure out his next step.  He had inadvertently upset a colleague by making her think that he was maligning an entire subset of individuals who were near and dear to her heart.  He wanted to make it right, for her vexation with him left him feeling unsettled, for more than what could be taken at face value.   He wanted Dr. Swan to read his entire paper.  Perhaps then the confusion could be cleared up, their working relationship would be amicable, and the unsettled feeling he had would disappear. Question was, how to get it to her. Mailbox...leave it on her desk...slide it under her door?  All possibilities, except the likelihood of her tossing it in the garbage without reading were 70/30.  What then could he do? 

He was on his way to place it in her mailbox when he was presented with an unexpected opportunity.  Killian reached to open the door to the department office and without looking barreled inside running headfirst into Emma Swan, who was carrying a box full of papers.  "What the hell!" he heard as the box was dropped, landing on the toe of his wingtips. 

"Ouch!" Killian yelped, also dropping the article and exam he'd been carrying before realizing that Emma was just staring at the papers that were slowly sliding out of the box at his feet.  Old habits kicked in. "Uh, sorry Doctor Swan." He bent over and began haphazardly shoving the papers back inside the box. "I didn't look where I was going. I was," he looked around locating his exam and held it aloft, "going to make copies of this test and I..." The last piece was shoved inside and, standing, he pushed the box toward Emma, unaware that he had taken a step forward. 

"Uh," Emma let out a gasp as the box hit her in the chest and only the fact that Killian was still holding on to it kept it from once again landing on the floor. 

"Sorry about that." He gave her a sheepish grin, relaxing his stance a bit, thinking she looked a bit shell-shocked for lack of a better word.  "Are you alright?" 

She shook her head as if trying to clear her thoughts and took the box out of his hands. "I'm fine," she answered his question solicitously, before her voice took on its usual clipped tone. "Thank you." She brushed past him, leaving him standing there alone. 

Killian righted his glasses and tried to remember why he was standing in the doorway to the department office.  As if in a trance he looked down at the papers he was holding and snapped his fingers, "Ahh, yes. Copies." He left his order for his exam to be copied but it wasn't until he was back in his office that he remembered the article and wondered where it had ended up. 

~~~CS~~~ 

Her lecture over, Emma handed a pile of the Developmental Psychology article to each of the rows and once everyone had a copy, moved back to the podium.  "Read these over for next class, please, and we'll discuss them then," she instructed before turning her attention to shutting down her PowerPoint. 

"Doctor Swan," Emma's attention was pulled to one of her students, Henry Mills, a gangly, dark-headed boy, who laid a small stack of papers on the podium. "I think I accidentally picked up a copy of the wrong article." 

Emma handed him the correct one before looking down at the one he had originally been given and, seeing the title, felt her brows raise in question.  How had a copy of the Jones' article ended up with hers? 

But then the scene from earlier in the day replayed in her mind of when he had run into her, knocking the box from her hands. She had stood there like an idiot while he had shoved all the papers back into the box, handing them to her.  Just as awkward as always she wanted to say but then...he had asked if she was alright and there was something in his voice that was different.  The way his British accent curled around the syllables and the huskiness of his tone sent...dare she say...a shiver up her spine?  She had to have been mistaken, she ultimately decided, before shutting off her computer and packing up. 

Once back in her office, Emma set the article in front of her, trying to decide what she should do.  Throw it in the trash and pretend like she never saw it, put it in his faculty mailbox, or take it to his office and give it to him?  With a shake of her head, she suddenly remembered how angry she had been when she had heard the beginning of his presentation last fall, and without thinking, she picked it up to toss in the garbage.  But before she could let it go, her curiosity got the better of her and, pulling it close, she read. 

Thirty minutes later, she finished the article and buried her head in her hands and mumbled, "Damn!  How could I have been so wrong?" 

Before she could change her mind, Emma grabbed her jacket, her phone and the article and left the building, making her way across campus to the chemistry building.  "Mary Margaret!" She burst into her friend's office without knocking, "You'll never believe what I..." She stopped when she noticed that Mary Margaret wasn't alone, for sitting in front of her desk was the very man she had come to talk about.  "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you had company.  I'll come back." 

"No, don't go," Jones stopped her from leaving, "I need to leave anyway."   

Without any further fanfare, he covered his dark hair with his fedora, and with a tip of his chin, left the room.  Unsure what to say, Emma sank down onto the seat he had recently vacated noting it was still warm and a musky scent still lingered in the air. "Why was he here?" she asked without preamble. 

Mary Margaret snickered, "Hello to you, too." 

"Sorry," Emma apologized. "How are you?  And why was he here?" 

Her friend waved her hand toward her desk where a pile of keys lay. "Would you believe my car keys?" 

Emma raised a brow, "Really?" 

"Really.  Now tell me what has you so rattled." 

Unsure where to start, Emma started with the early morning collision and ended with her discovery of how she had been wrong, jumping to some conclusions that she shouldn't have. "He wasn't generalizing for all children raised in the system," Emma shared excitedly, "I think he was saying that the attachment theory would suggest that with this particular case, the person had an inability to regulate in infancy due to abandonment and a broken parental bond, leading to social deviance as a child which carried through to adulthood." She grimaced, "I can appreciate this and probably," she sighed, "shouldn't have been so angry." 

When Mary Margaret didn't say anything, Emma leaned on the desk. "What do I do?" 

"Apologize," her friend said softly. 

Emma took a deep breath, "I was afraid you were going to say that." 

On the way back to the Flipse Building Emma kept thinking about the best way to apologize but nothing felt right.  She wondered if Clark had been able to sort things out between himself and his co-worker and if so, perhaps he would have some words of wisdom. 

~~~CS~~~ 

Since leaving Mary Margaret's office, Killian had been trying to figure out what it was that had brought Emma Swan rushing into the office unannounced.  Had she found his article?  Had she read the article? And if she had, what did she think?   

But why did he care?  He was only going to be in town for a couple of months, unless he interviewed for and was offered the permanent position. So why did it matter what she thought of him professionally?  Still unsure of the answer, Killian exchanged his tweed and wingtips for running shorts and shoes and hit the beach.  After five miles he still couldn't come up with an answer and pushed for another couple before cooling down and making his way back to the apartment.

He stripped and stepped under the shower spray, thinking over the answer that he had settled on while running and that was that Emma Swan was an enigma.   He heard stories of what a good instructor she was, how the students and faculty all enjoyed working with her, and yet the Emma Swan he saw was prickly...distant. She challenged him intellectually, whereas Buttercup stimulated him with her curiosity, her wit and her insight. If he could somehow combine the two, he would have found his perfect woman. 

Stepping from the shower, Killian dried and wrapped a towel around his waist just as a notification from Buttercup appeared. He quickly slipped into sleep pants and opened the message. It read: 

Dear Clark, 

Were you able to mend the rift between yourself and your co-worker?  I find that now I am in need of some advice from you.  I have recently realized that I jumped to an inaccurate assumption and have treated someone poorly because of it.  I am unsure how to repair the divide between us.  Any ideas? 

Buttercup 

Killian couldn't help but smile when he read her message because whether she had meant to or not, she had created a tiny crack in her wall.  Without much thought behind his answer, he sent a response. 

Buttercup, 

If you are wrong, apologize. 

Clark 

He was surprised when he didn't have to wait long before she answered back. 

Clark, 

I was afraid you would say that.  Saying I'm sorry is difficult.  No magic pill?   

Buttercup 

He chuckled at her response and answered. 

Dear Buttercup, 

No magic pill.  Sorry. 

Clark 

But she didn't let him have the last word. 

Clark, 

No key to his stomach?  No special Hallmark card or movie?   

Buttercup 

He got it, he really did, for saying you are wrong was difficult, but he had faith in her.  Which was interesting since they had never met. Wanting to learn more about her, he just started sending silly questions, as did she, until a glance at the clock told him they had been 'talking' for four hours.  His eyes barely able to stay open, Killian sent her one last question and when she didn't answer immediately, he allowed his eyes to close and drifted off to sleep. 

~~~CS~~~ 

It had been over a week since Emma fell asleep while 'talking' to Clark, which meant it had been a week since she realized she was wrong about Killian and needed to apologize.  However, saying she was sorry was not one of her strong suits and while she had tried...kind of...she was still working up to it. 

She decided that starting with a peace offering and then apologizing might make things a little easier and after some subtle questioning had stopped by Starbucks to procure his favorite coffee. However, once she arrived at the University and located him, she had been upstaged by none other than Tina Bell, the college's barracuda.  Tina had a reputation for flitting through men as quickly as a fairy flits through a flower field and by all appearances she had set her sights on Professor Jones. 

After taking a few days to regroup and come up with another idea, Emma planned to steal a piece of his mail from the faculty mailboxes and drop it by his office claiming it had accidentally gotten mixed up with hers.  Frustratingly, it seemed that someone else had the same idea because every time she checked the boxes, his was always empty.  It wasn't until she happened to walk by his office one afternoon to overhear someone say, "Killian, here's your mail.  It must have been left in my box by mistake," that she realized the culprit was Neal.  She didn't think Killian played for the same team as Neal, but she guessed she could be wrong. 

As February morphed into March and Emma still hadn't said she was sorry, she started thinking that if she didn't kick her own ass, her friends might very well do it for her.  Mary Margaret sent reminder texts, Clark had started asking in his messages and even her kitten had gotten in on the action.  Ginger had discovered the copy of the article that Killian wrote and scattered it all over the house, almost as if leaving reminders for her master. 

Making up her mind that this was the day, Emma found out which room he was teaching in and planned to stop by on her way to her own class.  Sadly, as had been her luck, once he was finished teaching, the podium was swarmed by a gaggle of girls and Emma was left out, yet again.   

Tired of being one step behind, she finished teaching her class, packed up for the day and barely made it to the Metrorail for her trip home. But once she arrived home, she had too much nervous energy to sit still, finally changing into running gear and hitting the streets. Allowing her feet to lead the way, she quickly realized that they were leading her directly to the beach and its hard-packed sand.   

Emma wasn't sure how far she ran, nor was she sure how long she ran, but she found a set of footprints in the sand and followed them blindly.  In her head she created an image of the person she was following, thinking they too might be trying to outrun something...or someone.  Her butterflies inside settling down, she slowed to a walk, allowing the gentle breezes to dry the sweat and calm her senses.  The mysterious steps faded as they rounded an outcrop of rocks and as she scooted around, the owner of the prints came into view. 

He had one leg resting on the shelf of a rock, his torso bent forward as he stretched his hamstrings.  She couldn't see his face, but he had a five-o'clock shadow, and his dark head was moving to music only he could hear.  She had just decided to turn the other way when he dropped his leg and looked her direction.  Emma's eyes traveled from his feet covered in a bright pair of Nike's, up bare legs, baggy shorts, a bare, slightly furred chest into the blue eyes of the man she had been simultaneously looking for yet running from for the past month. 

"Killian!" His first name burst forth before she could stop it. "Doctor Jones," she quickly amended, trying to keep her eyes glued to his instead of oogling his barely clad body. 

Killian took a step closer, his eyes widening with surprise as he removed an earbud. "Em...uh...Doctor Swan," he hesitated before dropping his gaze to the sand. 

Realizing that he might be feeling self-conscious, Emma cleared her throat, "Emma, please," she managed softly. 

He lifted his eyes and gave her a shy, but very endearing smile, and repeated, "Emma," quietly, almost as if he were trying it to see how it felt on his tongue. "And you can call me Killian." His response was just as soft as hers had been. 

Emma closed her eyes, but the vision of his chest, jaw covered with burnished whiskers and blue, blue eyes without glasses were burned in her brain, refusing to leave.  Do it, she told herself, opening her eyes once again to find his gaze locked on her.  "I'm glad I ran into you." His arched brow asked a question without his lips ever uttering a sound. "No, really," she rolled her eyes, "I wanted to tell you I was sorry.  I've behaved like an ass." 

He didn't say anything for the longest time, and afraid that perhaps she had waited too long, Emma almost turned to leave, but something kept her feet planted. "Apology accepted.  Care to walk?" 

They walked around the rocks, heading back up the beach and while not the comfort of an old friend like she felt when messaging Clark, their talk was, at least friendly.  She found that when she asked him questions about his professional life, he appeared more comfortable and seemed to stutter less, which gave her a new appreciation for him.  She hadn't really wanted to like him, but darn it, she did, and that was almost disconcerting. 

When they eventually parted ways and Emma arrived home, she couldn't get their encounter out of her mind, and for the first time she found herself wishing that Clark was close.  But she hadn't even told him where she lived...nor had she shared her real name.  The dilemma of what to do carried her into the shower. 

~~~CS~~~ 

The week after seeing Emma on the beach was a break for the University, and while he thought about flying home to see Liam, Elsa and Piper, in the end, he decided against it.  He divided his days between research for the book he was hoping to write and allowing August to teach him how to windsurf. Each evening he ran along the beach and while Emma Swan didn't cross his path, it didn't mean she didn't cross his mind.  He found himself thinking of her periodically, especially when he was in the middle of his research.  That she might be an interesting co-author had crossed his mind a time or two, so much so that he had almost mentioned it to Buttercup and asked her opinion.  But aware that he hadn't shared his real name and profession, kept him quiet...for the time being anyway. 

The problem was that the closer he felt to her, the more difficult it became to keep quiet...but something held him back. It was as if he were waiting on some sign and once he had gotten that sign, then...and only then would he divulge information that would lead to her knowing his real name.  What that sign was, he couldn't say...but when it happened, he would know. 

The last day of the break, a Sunday, David and Mary Margaret were hosting a brunch for the faculty of the College of Arts & Sciences, and if any faculty members were in town, they were expected to be there.  Killian arrived late and snuck in, hoping not to call attention to himself as he circled the room keeping his eyes open for... 

"Looking for me?" A whispered voice asked in his right ear as he felt an arm circling his waist. 

Could that be? he wondered turning to his right, only to be surprised by Neal's whiskered jaw leaning close to his shoulder. "Bloody hell, Cassidy!" Killian bellowed, jumping back quickly. "What are you doing?" 

"Well, I thought," Neal started before being pushed aside by the college snake. 

"Get your hands off him!" Tina Bell ordered Neal, shoving him out of the way. 

Killian noticed people staring, which was the exact opposite of what he had been looking for.  Slowly, he took a step back, trying to keep out of the reach of the groping hands. "Wai...wai…uh…just a minute here. There...there seems to be a...a...a big misunderstanding." His collar suddenly started feeling tighter and he swiped his finger around inside it in a desperate attempt to get it to loosen, all the while looking across the room for someone to rescue him. "Hold on, here," he tried again, taking another step backward.  "There...there seems to be, uh...a misunderstanding." He took one more step and hit a table, causing the plant sitting on it to wobble. 

Simultaneously, a hand reached out, stopping it from tumbling to the floor and another hand settled at his waist.  He knew before he turned that his savior was Emma Swan, but where had she come from?" 

"There you are," she hesitated just long enough to get the attention of both of his suitors, "Killian.  I've been looking for you." 

Emma positioned herself close against his side, her nearness causing his heart to speed up and sweat beads to appear on his upper lip.  Unsure what he was supposed to say, Killian looked down into her green eyes shining with laughter.  He swallowed his unease and nodded his head, "Aye, that's uh...that's right."   

He swallowed again when Emma linked her arm with his, and with an, "Excuse us," pulled him away from the situation. 

Once they were well out of Neal and Tina's hearing, Killian thanked Emma, and as they were walking by the buffet table offered to buy her a drink.  She rolled her eyes at his remark. "Sure, but I can get it.  Want something?" 

He sent her a little smile and shrugged nonchalantly. "What...ever, uh...you're having is fine.  I'll just be over…" he waved in the direction of several chairs, and when she nodded he moved away and sat down. 

Killian watched her move around the table with ease, curious as to what she was making to drink, when out of the corner of his eye he saw someone sit down next to him.  His breathing stopped until he heard, David's low laugh, "Emma making you one of her creations?" 

He sent his companion a quick grin and shrugged, "I'm not sure.  Should I be worried?" 

"Oh, just wait," David intoned. "Our Emma has a sweet tooth." 

"Watch it, David," Emma laughed, "I heard that." She handed Killian a cup piled high with whipped cream that was covered with brown sprinkles. "Drink up.  I've got to go hear more about the sunsets in Key West." With a little wave, she faded into the crowd. 

Killian looked at the whipped topping melting in his cup and lifted it to see if a whiff of the brown specks would give him some indication of what he was drinking. "Cinnamon?" For some reason that seemed familiar but he didn't know why.  Many people drank hot chocolate, but he hadn't heard of many drinking it with whipped cream and cinnamon, except...and then it came to him. "Buttercup," he whispered. 

"Buttercup?" David repeated, "No, it's cinnamon." 

Killian shook his head to clear his thoughts because what was rolling around inside his head made very little sense.  He had just swallowed his second drink of the sugary concoction when he realized what David had said, and asked curiously, "Emma always makes the chocolate with whipping cream and cinnamon?" 

David laughed, "Always.  Why?" 

"No, no reason." He couldn't get beyond the fact that he had already been wishing that Emma and Buttercup were the same person, as each stimulated him in different ways and now...now if every time he was involved in a conversation with Buttercup, he saw Emma in his mind...how should he handle it?  Needing to move to a safer topic, Killian asked David about his break. 

"Oh, I took Mary Margaret to Key West." He went on to sing the praises of the little town that sat on the very tip of the Florida Keys.  "Have you had a chance to drive down since you've been here?" 

Killian barely had time to say no before David continued with the conversation, claiming the Key West sunsets were not to be beat and that if the opportunity arose, it was a place he recommended.   

It wasn't long before Killian noticed people starting to leave, and as soon as he was able he too made his excuses.  All the way home, he kept replaying conversations that he'd had with Buttercup over the past two months and combining those with what he knew about Emma.  Was it even possible that they were one and the same?   Or was it something that he just desired?  And if his magical match wasn't ready to let him knock down all those walls, then what could he do without losing her...or possibly both of them? After all, he was only Clark Kent. 

Later that night a notification arrived that he had a new message from Buttercup. Killian opened the app and read, 

Dear Clark, 

This may sound odd, but just out of curiosity, Clark Kent has several nervous habits that Superman doesn't share.  Do you have any nervous habits you're willing to share with your magical match? 

Yours, 

Buttercup 

~~~CS~~~ 

Emma wasn't sure what possessed her to ask the question, but once she hit send, she couldn't wait for the answer.  When Clark didn't respond right away, she couldn't stop her mind from drifting back to the party and Killian's nervous habits. Besides turning really red, he was prone to rub his hand on his neck. Sometimes along the back and at other times along the front, and his speech patterns changed.  They became more hesitant, even slightly dysfluent. 

The dysfluency itself was interesting to Emma as it seemed to change depending on the environment.  She had watched him arrive and he appeared fine, however once Neal and Tina had surrounded him, making him uncomfortable, he had really stuttered and then the stuttering had lessened as they moved away.  But when she had seen him at the beach, once the initial awkwardness was over, his speaking pattern was different.  Then his speech had been fluent...smoother, even if his sentences were not as long and eloquent as she had expected...or as long and eloquent as Clark's were, which was a curious comparison to make.  But the cadence of his speech and the way his tongue wrapped around those British vowels did something to her that she hadn't expected.  In fact, there were times when she found herself hearing Killian's voice in her head as she read some of the messages from Clark.  How messed up was that?  There would come a time when a decision would have to be made, she could feel it.  The question was...how much time did she have? 

Knowing she had to teach the next day, Emma tried to go to sleep early but her mind wouldn't stop enough to allow for a deep sleep. It took hours of tossing and turning before she finally fell into such a shallow sleep that she was aware of every little creak in the house and every move made by Ginger, thanks to the bell on her collar.  Her dreams had Killian and Clark morphing into the same person, each saying words she would expect from the other.  She reached a point where she wasn't sure which man she was running to...or running from. 

When the alarm went off, she wanted nothing more than to bury her head under the blankets, but with an early class spurring her on, she forced her feet to move.  Knowing she was going to need an extra shot of caffeine, Emma quickly showered, dressed and was out the door and in line at Starbucks before even realizing she hadn't even touched her phone.  When she saw the notification, signaling a message from Clark, a little jolt traveled through her system, but wanting to savor the feeling she dealt with the non-important stuff first.  Her thumb hovered over the app when she heard the barista call, "Swan," and the moment was lost.   

A congested US-1 slowed her down and so it wasn't until several hours later that Emma dropped down into her office chair and opened the app to see what awaited her. 

Dear Buttercup, 

Just like Clark Kent, I find myself unsure at times and when that occurs, besides turning red, I tend to tug on my right ear. I've been trying to stop, but perhaps it’s a Superman transformation I've yet to conquer. 

Yours, 

Clark  

"He tugs on his ear," Emma murmured. "Why does that sound so familiar?"  Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn't eaten anything earlier, but grabbing something from the vending machines didn't sound good, so... 

E: Have time to meet me at the student center? 

Thankfully she didn't have to wait long for an answer, 

MM: Sounds good.  Usual spot in 20? 

E: Perfect.  See you then. 

There were several "busy" activities that she could have started, but Emma found that she didn't have the drive to begin any of them.  Leaving her office behind, she escaped the confines of the building and started the walk across campus.  The weather was still perfect, and with the sun shining down and the fragrant flowers around, Emma found herself relaxing and reflecting over the past few months. Much had changed since last November when she had told Mary Margaret that she was not interested in dating. 

November 2017 Thanksgiving 

Emma dried the last glass, set it in the cabinet and shut the door. "Done," she said with a smile. She hung up the towel she had been using and followed Mary Margaret into the family room.   

They settled on the sofa in front of the fireplace, both lost in their own thoughts for a few moments. "Thanks for helping clean the kitchen," her friend told her quietly.  "When Robert is ready to go home, he means right then." 

Emma laughed at the memory of the argument between the men and how in the end David had given in and driven them home. "That was sweet of David to drive them home." 

"An only child," Mary Margaret laughed and the changed the subject. "Ready to let me in on why you arrived alone?" 

Emma's head dropped onto the back of the sofa. "I was wondering when you would ask, but," she lifted her head, "it's not a big deal, really.  When Mary Margaret's only response was a lift of her brow, Emma laughed and shook her head. "There was just something missing between us and..." She bit her lip, unsure how much more to say.   

"Oh Emma," the brunette sighed, "he wanted more, didn't he?" 

Emma nodded her head slowly. "I'm not sure why I have such a hard time picking men," she finished disgustedly, and gave her friend a tiny smile. "Know any men as special as your husband?" 

She watched several expressions cross her friend's face and thought to herself, ‘I'm going to wish I wouldn't have said anything,’ before her friend even opened her mouth. "Well, it's interesting that you ask," Mary Margaret started, "it just so happens..." 

"Stop." Emma held up her hand.  "I was just kidding.  You know I don't do 'fix-ups.'" 

"But Emma, what if he's your true love?" 

"Ha!" burst out before she could stop it. "Let's change the subject, shall we?" 

March 2018 

And if I had taken her up on the offer to introduce me to someone, would I have a third man in my life?  Or would I have none? "Feast or famine," she mumbled as she entered the noisy environment of the student center and sat down at their usual table. 

While she waited, Emma's thoughts once again drifted back over conversations that she'd had with Clark and how easy it was to share most things with him. Most things that is...except her name, what she did for a living and...where she lived. 

"What's wrong?" Mary Margaret asked before she had even settled in a chair. 

Emma frowned at her. "How do you know anything is wrong?" 

"Because you're chewing on your bottom lip.  Now spill." 

Emma spent the next hour trying to explain the confusion she was feeling inside and how her feelings for Clark and Killian were morphing together.  She found it freeing, but even talking about it still didn't give her clarification as to what she should do. "You've been quiet," she commented as she ran out of things to say. 

"Have you thought about trying to meet Clark?" Mary Margaret asked her quietly. 

"Yes," Emma nodded, "but...but I like what we have, even if it's not completely open.  If we meet I might find out--" 

"---that you might be wrong about him," Mary Margaret interrupted.  Emma sighed, but didn't say anything, only nodded her head.  "Emma," her friend reached out with a reassuring touch on her hand, "don't give up.   Love is worth it." 

All the way back to the Flipse Building, Emma thought about what Mary Margaret had said and wondered if she was brave enough to take a chance. Was her true love at the bottom of the hill, just like Buttercup's Westley? It was a question that certainly deserved a lot of thought but since she had a class of freshmen to lecture for the next ninety minutes, she would have to set it aside to ponder later.   

As she stood in front of her class, lecturing about habits, Emma's mind kept wandering to her situation, but using every ounce of skill she had learned over the past few years, she made it through her PowerPoint without having to repeat herself too many times.  She had just started a video to accompany her lecture when she looked up, meeting the blue eyes of Killian Jones.   

The first thing she noticed was that he didn't have his glasses on and his gaze was so intense that she had to hold onto the table to keep from falling.  He looked different, but beyond the absence of his eyewear, she couldn't put her finger on why she thought that. Almost like when Clark Kent becomes Superman flitted through her mind before she pushed it aside as a preposterous idea. 

Emma couldn't look away, her gaze mesmerized by his and then...he smiled.  A smile so endearing that if she hadn't been holding onto the table, her legs would have given out.  Without conscious thought, Emma found herself smiling back, and then it happened, and as if in slow motion the room stood still. 

 Killian's face turned red and he reached up and...tugged on his ear. 

Emma blinked rapidly several times, thinking surely, she didn't just see that.  But he did it again. 

He reached up, and once again tugged on his ear. 

Emma's mouth dropped open, and just as she started to walk over to him, the video came to its conclusion and with a little wave Killian disappeared.  She didn't know where the words came from, but somehow she closed out the class and made it back to her office repeating, "I am so screwed," over and over again. 

Almost in a trance, Emma packed up and drove home, arriving to discover that Ginger had been busy, but she hadn't destroyed anything important. The decision time that she had been fretting about for a while had arrived. The question of what to do ran around inside her head, almost filling up too much space to allow her to function.  She had just about decided to put it off for another day when her phone buzzed with a new notification from Clark.  With much curiosity and a little trepidation, Emma opened the app.

Tell me dear Buttercup, are buttercups your favorite posies? 

Yours,

Clark 

~~~CS~~~ 

Killian leaned against the open patio doors, listening to the waves roll in several floors below. Usually the rhythmic pulse served to soothe him, but tonight his thoughts were in too much disarray and he'd resorted to a generous dollop of rum.  As the amber drink burned a path from his mouth to his stomach, he set the glass aside and leaned on the railing staring out at the bay, hoping for some clarity. 

With each ebb and flow of the water, the shore changed, reminding him of his own metamorphosis over the last few months. It hadn't been something that he had noticed as it was taking place, for then, he had been attempting to make some sense of what he was feeling.  His emotions were wide and varied and they included those for his Buttercup, as well as many for Emma Swan and suddenly, the two women had merged into one...at least in his mind.  But after speaking with Liam, there had been an epiphany, of sorts, and he had realized that the man he looked at in the mirror every morning had indeed changed. 

He had arrived home from the party and, with his thoughts mired in confusion, he had needed someone to help him sort through them and reached out to his family.  Piper had answered the phone and after listening to her stories about school, she had passed him on to Elsa.  It hadn't taken long before Elsa had asked if she could help, and he thought about asking her for her opinion, but then Liam's voice came over the phone and he hadn't been able to stop the flow of words. 

It had felt good to be able to articulate what was in his mind and what was in his heart.  And once the words were said, then he had been forced to examine the meaning behind them. Liam had asked a few questions, but as the questions became fewer and his answers shorter, Killian had started to wonder what was going through Liam's head. The end of the conversation was really what stood out in his mind. 

"Have you ever fought for a woman, Killian?" Liam had asked him quietly. 

"No." He had never wanted to fight for anyone. 

Liam continued, "A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.  So, Little Brother, if you want this woman, you need to fight for her." 

Once he had hung up the phone, he found himself thinking about Clark Kent's transformation to Superman.  It all started when he removed his glasses.  He stood taller, more confident, his voice was lower pitched...and what he wanted, he went after.   

Killian found himself in the bathroom, staring at the man in the mirror, and just like Superman, he pulled the tortoiseshell glasses from his face.  Different, yet the same, he thought, wanting to do more.  With a tug of the knot, his tie ended up on the floor and the top few buttons of his shirt came undone and his stance changed...looser...cockier. His hair...he mussed, letting it fall over his forehead. And the new Killian Jones stared back at him.  This man, not the same man that looked back at him each day, but a man on a mission.  A man willing to fight for the woman he wanted. 

And that man made his first appearance at the University earlier today.  That man had breezed through his classes and, needing to see Emma, had stopped by the room where she was lecturing.  Exchanging looks with her had been intense, and he'd needed to hold on to the door facing to keep from pushing his newfound confidence farther...and then...she smiled. His heart raced, but the video's ending had sent him running home. 

Once home, after a run on the beach, he set out to see how close he could get to his Buttercup and sent her a message.  But now, hours later and she hadn't responded. Had he gotten too close?  And if so, was she running? 

Unsure what his next step should be, Killian readied for bed and, keeping his phone close, lay down, folded his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling.  His thoughts fell back on the encounter with Emma and how he felt when she smiled at him, his heart had... 

His phone sounding with the theme music to Princess Bride interrupted his thoughts before they could delve any further into his feelings.  Killian reached for the phone, quickly opening the app.  Buttercup's message was short and either she was being a bit cheeky...or she was trying to put some distance between them.  "We'll see about that," he muttered as he reread her message. 

Dear Clark, 

Buttercups are not my favorite posey. 

Yours,

Buttercup 

Killian's next message was short...but a little more personal. 

Dear Buttercup, 

How about Blue Bonnets?  Are they your favorites?  Blue like your Westley's eyes. 

Yours,

Clark 

Even though it was getting late, he didn't have to wait long for her answer. 

Dear Clark, 

I do like blue, but Blue Bonnets aren't my favorite. 

Yours,

Buttercup 

Killian's smile was decidedly wicked as he answered her. 

You like blue?  Blue like the sky or blue like the sea? 

He couldn't put the phone down, he was so anxious to hear what she had to say. 

Why, blue like the sea, of course.  Oh, a bonus for you. My favorite flowers are Tiger Lilies. 

Killian had his answer and assumed she was turning in for the night.  He shut the phone off and as fatigue pulled him down into sleep, he continued to formulate his plan as to how far he could push her before her walls came tumbling down and he was able to win Buttercup’s heart.   

Over the course of the next few weeks, Killian put his plan into action.  His messages to his Magical Match included questions that became increasingly more personal, pushing her down that hill a little at a time.  Initially, she met his new questioning technique with hesitation and challenged his with questions of her own.  But then, it was as if a door had opened and she was walking through as she met each of his questions with ones of her own.   

By telling her he had grown up in London, he learned she was born in Boston. 

By telling her his parents had been killed when he was a teenager, he had learned she had been raised in the foster system. And that news sent his heart racing, for Emma Swan had also been raised in the foster system.   

By telling her his magical match gift had been bestowed on him by his brother, his wife and their daughter, he had learned she had received it from married friends, who were colleagues.  Could those have been David and Mary Margaret? 

Mid-April was upon them and Killian wanted...no...needed to meet Buttercup, but he had one more question for her.  It was quick. 

Dear Buttercup,

If you could take a trip to see the sunset, where would the trip lead you? 

Yours,

Clark 

Surprisingly, he didn't have to wait long as her response popped up right away. 

Dear Clark, 

I hear the sunsets in Key West, Florida are like no other. 

Yours,

Buttercup 

When Killian read her answer, he couldn't believe the amount of relief he was feeling and he was being hit with it from several directions.  Creating the perfect letter took some time but once it was sent, he was confident he had made the right decision. 

The following week, he realized he needed a little advice and stopped by David's office.  David's secretary smiled. "Doctor Jones, how can I help you?" 

"Good morning, Mrs. Lucas." He sent her what he hoped was an endearing smile. "Is David in?" 

Once inside David's inner sanctum, Killian got right to the point, "David, I thought I'd check out those sunsets in Key West next weekend. Would you happen to have a hotel recommendation?  And would you mind taking me to the airport? 

~~~CS~~~

As soon as Killian had left the office, David couldn't stop smiling.  He picked up his phone to share the news. "Mrs. Lucas," he said to his secretary, "please tell Ruby thanks again for help with that matter." 

"I'll do that, Doctor Nolan," she answered. "Is there anything else before I leave for the day?" 

"Nothing, thanks."  As soon as she was gone, David snuck outside to where a copse would hide him, should anyone come around.  He needed to call Liam and fill him in on the news.  As he waited for the phone to ring, he saw Killian leaving the building, and stepped back a little more into the shadows.   

"David, good to hear from you," Liam's voice came over the line.  "How are things?" 

~~~CS~~~ 

Dear Buttercup, 

Are you ready to meet me at the bottom of the hill? If so, I'll be waiting at the Southernmost Point in Key West on April 21 at 7:00p.m.  If all goes well, the sunset will signify a new beginning.  I'll leave my cape at home and be holding four Tiger Lilies, one for every month we've been talking.   

              ~Clark 

Emma read through the message one more time and the excitement that she had felt the first time was just as real...the tenth...twentieth, but who's counting time.  It had taken her a lot of runs on the beach and talks with her friend, but Emma had made the decision to continue down the hill.  She hadn't rolled down, like they had in the movie, but taken sure and steady steps, allowing him to get closer to her than anyone had in...forever. And after his last message, she had decided to drive to Key West...and meet him.   

Ginger mewed and followed her to the door, and seeing her little forlorn, furry face almost stopped her...but, "You'll be in good hands, my friend." She picked up the kitten and rubbed her face against the soft fur.  "Mary Margaret is going to take care of you. You like her, right?" 

The kitten didn't look convinced but followed her mistress from room to room as Emma made sure she had everything and then called her friend.   

"Hello?" 

"I'm getting ready to leave.  You won't forget to take care of Ginger, right?" 

"Go, Emma," Mary Margaret assured her, "Ginger and I will be fine.  Good luck." 

"Thanks...for everything." While Emma didn't know for sure, she had a feeling she was thanking her friend for a lot more than just watching her pet.   

On a good day, the drive along the scenic US-1 was almost four hours from her home in Coconut Grove, but add in a wreck and a little road construction and she didn't pull into the hotel until five hours later.  Once she checked into her room, she had too much nervous energy to just sit around and decided to take the opportunity to visit the Hemingway House. Once there she was free to wander about the eccentric writer's home, admiring not only the residence, but the many cats that called the house their home.   

After leaving the Hemingway House, Emma still had a few hours to waste and spent time walking in and out of the shops on Duval Street.  Her stomach was so tied up in knots that she couldn't even think about food and she was too nervous to people watch, and so an hour early, she started in the direction of the concrete buoy that proudly proclaimed it to be the Southernmost Point in Key West, Florida. 

When she arrived within eyesight of the buoy, Emma stopped and leaned against a store, shielding herself from others, but allowing her to see the comings and goings of the tourists.  Her eyes were constantly moving over the crowd, searching for the man that she hoped was both her magical match, i.e., Clark Kent, as well as her Superman. Taking a chance on even the possibility of love was not something that Emma Swan had ever done until she had become his Buttercup. Now...she was here...and...she was ready. 

She saw him coming from the opposite side of the street, his walk much more Superman these days than Clark Kent.  He looked good as Superman, she thought. Contacts instead of glasses, jeans instead of dress pants, a vest and a shirt unbuttoned a few buttons instead of a tie, all topped by black leather instead of a tweed jacket. And not a fedora in sight, she noticed as he turned to look in a store window.  She assumed he was window shopping until he straightened his jacket and ran his hand through his hair, leaving it artfully mussed. He turned back toward the corner and his lopsided grin caused her heart to do a little flip.  That they had come so far was a miracle, making her think they were technically a miracle match instead of a magical one. 

Just before he reached the corner, his steps hesitated and he stopped, his confidence flagging.  His shoulders sagged, and his body relaxed and just like that, Clark was back.  He dropped his head studying the bright orange flowers he was holding, four beautiful Tiger Lilies as he had promised and then...with a swipe of his finger across one delicate petal, his shoulders drew back and his head lifted.  Superman had once again returned and Emma's heart melted a little more. 

He looked toward the concrete buoy and Emma watched him take a breath and his lopsided smile once again returned.  She saw him scan the crowds, looking for her, she knew, before settling off to one side.  His Adam's apple bobbed and seeing that even when he was Superman he was nervous, Emma stepped away from the wall and started her walk to where he was waiting. 

~~~CS~~~ 

Killian saw her coming and she was so beautiful all the words that he had planned to say disappeared from his brain. His eyes trailed up her slim legs encased in tight jeans, to her soft sweater covered by the ever-present leather jacket.  Her hair blowing around her face and the sun shining on her gave her a glow, and those combined with her smile woke his heart and made it sing. 

She stopped in front of him, giving him a smile that he hadn't been aware he was longing for. "I hoped it was you." Her voice was husky and a little breathless and the way she was biting her lip was endearing to see. 

"Really?" He felt his smile grow, "I hoped it was you, too." He took a half step closer. "When did you suspect?" 

Emma tilted her face up to the sun, as if working to bring back a memory that was hiding. "Clark and Killian had been merging in my head for several weeks, but then when you were standing in the doorway of my class--" 

"And tugged on my ear?" he finished. 

She nodded. "Yes. And then you disappeared." Her voice faded as she studied him intently. 

His face felt stiff and too warm, as if he had been smiling too much or was embarrassed...or both. "I'm sorry," he told her quietly. "I wanted to stay but it felt like it was..." and then he stopped because he wasn't sure how to finish the sentence. 

Emma took another step closer. "Too much?" she asked hesitantly. 

This time it was his turn to nod. "Something like that." 

"How long do you plan to stay?" Emma's shining green eyes continued to stare into his as if she were cataloging his features and digging into the deepest recesses of his mind. 

She had asked him a question, but he had been so lost in her green-eyed gaze that it took him a while to process what she had said.  "In Key West...or in Florida? 

Emma rolled her eyes and lightly giggled, relieving some of the nervous tension he still was holding. "Florida, silly." 

"Well," Killian handed her one of the bright Tiger Lilies, "that depends on a few things." He handed her another, each word carefully chosen. 

"Thank you," she whispered softly, her breath blowing across the petals causing them to undulate slightly.  His eyes rested on her lips before he forcibly brought them back to hers.  She pulled the flowers down to clasp them tightly against her chest as she stared up at him, almost as if something held her captivated. Her pink tongue peeked out to slowly circle her lips and for the first time, Killian felt that there was a very real chance he would get to taste that mouth. Something he had longed to do but never really thought possible. "What things?" 

Her words broke through his hazy thoughts. "A job," he handed her the third flower, "for one. After all, my position is only until the end of the semester." 

Emma frowned up and him and took a step back. "Wait.  I thought you were applying for Cora Mills' position." 

Killian felt his brow raise in question, thinking that the fact that she was aware he had been offered the opportunity to apply for the position was an interesting piece of information.  "I've been told about the position but haven't decided if I should apply or not." He took a step forward closing the distance that she had just added. 

"What...what will help you determine whether or not to apply?" she asked him breathlessly. 

A tiny smile played along her lips, their twitching pulling his eyes to them time and again. "I think you know." He handed her the last flower, his eyes open for her to read whatever was in them that she wanted to see.   

~~~CS~~~ 

His blue eyes had been hypnotizing her since she had stopped in front of him and the more she stared, the more rubbery her legs became.  Hearing him talk and listening to the melodic tone to his voice, the more he pulled her in...bringing her closer to him...making her want to step into him, letting him wrap her in his arms.  But patience and allowing things to develop between them naturally had worked so far, which was why she was working so hard to refrain from staring at his lips. 

Hearing him remind her of the temporariness of his position and then telling her he hadn't applied for the other one sent a shock of fear zipping down Emma's spine.  That wasn't like her, yet as he uttered the words, "I think you know," she had to look down to make sure that her legs weren't slowly melting into the very ground beneath her feet.  Surely, he couldn't mean her, could he? 

But then she looked...really looked in his eyes and what she saw was so raw...so heart-wrenchingly beautiful, she couldn't keep from stepping closer. The toes of her boots touched his and her hands rested against the soft leather of his jacket. "Killian?" There was so much she wanted to say but how to verbalize exactly what she was feeling was a problem, because as she had said earlier to him...it just felt so big. 

He took another step and cupped her elbows, pulling her closer, so close that she could feel his breath on her face. "Yes, love?" 

Emma wasn't sure if the word was an endearment or just something that he used when speaking to others, but it sent awareness along her skin. "Where's home?" 

He leaned his head closer and whispered, "I have a flat in Cambridge, which is the University I am on sabbatical from, and my family lives outside of London, why?" 

She shook her head, turning questioning eyes to his. "You would be willing to give up your...family for me?" 

"Aye." His breath wafted across her mouth, making her want to lean forward...just an inch closer, to finally seal their lips. "Buttercup," he tugged her into his body, locking his arms around her, "can I be your Westley?  Can I be your happy ending?" 

The words were barely out of his mouth before Emma took the leap and locked her mouth to his.  He tasted like heaven and his arms...those felt like home. Their lips parted briefly, just long enough for her to mutter, "Welcome home, Killian." 

The setting sun touched the ocean, painting the world around them with a golden glow.  Killian swung Emma around dipping her in his arms. “Is this the Happy Ending you envisioned for Buttercup, Swan?”   

She smiled, “It’s not a happy ending, Killian.  It’s a Happy Beginning.” He swung her back into his arms and captured her lips once again as the sun sank into the ocean and the night closed around them. 

~fin

"A friend?" When he saw the old brown truck bouncing along the driveway, he knew exactly who had been nominated, "Killian?" he quizzed, "What did you promise him to get him to give up his Friday to hang with my kid sister?"

He was surprised when Liam answered, "Nothing. Killian actually volunteered." Then Liam hurried on with, "We'll see you at the Rabbit Hole in thirty minutes." and hung up before David could ask who the 'we' was.

"Killian," David greeted the younger man as soon as he opened the truck’s door, "I...I appreciate this."

Killian barely glanced David’s direction, but gave a little wave as he picked up his battered ice skates and walked through the snow toward where Emma was still circling the ice.  David thought about warning the younger boy regarding what might happen, as well as tell his sister where he was going, but in the end, he didn't.  There was something in the way Killian was walking toward Emma, that told him whatever he had to say wasn't needed.  

~cs~cs~cs~

The Jones family had been friends with the Nolan family for as long as Killian could remember, which meant he had grown up thinking of Emma, two years his junior, as a sister.  But that had started to change the summer before her parents' accident, when he saw her at the beach.   Gone was the skinny, tom-boy of the summer before, replaced with a girl who filled out her bikini, in all the right places.  Suddenly, Emma was starring in his dreams in a much different capacity than ever before.  After that, he set his mind to trying to win the fair maiden's heart, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't get her to see him as anything more than the brother she had always known.  He was in that friend zone and didn't know how to get out.

When her parents died in February, Emma had stayed with his family for a few months, allowing David to finish his semester at college. While it might not have been the ideal way to get close to her, he was there for her to lean on and several nights had been the one to hear her crying, offering his shoulder when it was needed.  It was during that time, he had decided he never wanted to lose Emma, and if all she saw him was as a friend, he would accept that and honor her wishes.  It hadn't completely stopped his feelings for her though.  

He loved watching her move, both on the ice as well as off, but when she was skating, her beauty took his breath away.  The way she glided across the ice mesmerized him and her gracefulness reminded him of a swan in motion, especially when her long blonde hair flew around her head like a swan with its wings spread wide. He couldn’t get enough, as he was content to stare at her all day. "Swan," he called teasingly when he was where she could hear him, "Can I?" he held up his skates.  When she nodded her head, slowing down slightly, he stopped and slipped them on. Now, the fun begins, he thought as he stepped onto the ice.

~cs~cs~cs~

Emma knew the minute Killian turned onto their drive, but she couldn't say how she knew.  Was it the hum of the engine in his old pick-up or was there some invisible connection between them that couldn't be explained?  Since their families had been friends forever, the four boys had always treated her like the little sister, never knowing that she secretly harbored a little crush on Killian. Acting on that crush though, that was something different.  

Killian had always been that boy that she watched from afar, assuming he was 'out of her league.' Not in the way that meant she felt he was too good for her, but because of the history between their families.  And as they had gotten older and she watched him work his way through girl after girl, she decided that no boy, especially one who was a friend first, would have that much control over her heart.   It hadn't been too difficult until last summer when he turned those blue eyes her direction and her traitorous heart almost abandoned her.  But by convincing herself that he only wanted what he couldn't have, she had resisted...externally at least.  That didn’t mean that every time he winked, her heart didn't flip in her chest and she didn't want to squeal, it just meant that she saved the excitement for when she was alone in her room.  She spent time filling pages in her diary, but her feelings remained just that, her feelings.  After the accident everything in her life had changed and he was there to be what she needed him to be…a true friend.

She wasn’t sure if he had known that today was going to be a bad day or not, but here he was again; her champion when she hadn't even asked. "Hi." She gave him what felt like an awkward smile but chalked it up to not using those muscles all day.

"Hey." He returned her shy smile before a cocky grin crossed his face and she readied herself for what was to follow, "Race you." He took off before she could formulate any other thoughts, but knowing it was what she needed, Emma took off after him hoping that the wind she created would blow her melancholy away.

~cs~cs~cs~

Killian mindlessly followed Emma, a part of him focused on her, the other on maintaining his dignity on the unfamiliar ice.  Emma, on the other hand, skated as if the very hounds of hell were on her tail making him want to stick close so he could catch her lest she fall.  Their conversation while skating, was minimal, including only a word here or there, but when her expression softened and she grinned at him the tension in his shoulders relaxed slightly.  It was a be

He lost track of how long they had been skating, but by the shadows knew it was getting late and the sun would soon be setting.  His legs were also beginning to feel like jelly, pushing him to skate in front of her and transition to skating backward, "Care to rest?" he tossed out, in what he hoped was a flippant manner.  

The twinkle in her eye said she wasn't buying it. "What's the matter, Jones?  You a wuss?"  She flipped her long hair over her shoulder and took off. "If you can catch me, we can rest." The laughter in her voice caused his heart to do a mini flip

"Not a problem, Swan," he called.  Using the last bits of his waning energy, Killian skated toward Emma, passed her by and executed a perfect hockey stop throwing snow up around them.

 Emma rolled her eyes, "Not bad."

"Not bad, "Killian huffed.  "Did you see how high that snow flew?"

She just shrugged and pushed off, patting him gently on the cheek as she skated past, "Let me show you how it's done."

Her hockey stop, as expected, was done to perfection, but Killian wasn't ready to admit defeat.  He winked at her as he sped by and the glint in her eye distracted him just for a split second.  Unfortunately, for him, it happened in the spot on the ice that had threatened to trip him multiple times and before he could catch himself, he had face planted.

Emma shrieked "watch out," as he slid several feet before coming to a stop at the base of a mound of snow, knocking much of it loose.  The thought that he should bounce to his feet as if nothing was wrong floated through his mind, but then his muddled brain registered Emma's concerned voice. "Killian, are you okay?" she probed, dropping down beside him.  Roll over, he kept telling himself until her warm hand landed on his head and gently began pushing his hair back from his forehead.  "Please wake up," she pleaded, "please wake up

Her voice sounded different, more worried than when she had initially called his name and Killian was loath to cause her any more pain.  He groaned and rolled over, sending her a cheeky smile, "Don't stop touching me, Swan.  I like it." He waggled his eyebrows at her. 

Emma squinted her eyes, scanning his face carefully, for injuries, he was sure, "You're okay?" 

"I'm fine, but you," he rolled over freeing both hands, "appear to be just a little too...dry." She squealed when he took hold of her shoulders and tucked her underneath him in the middle of the wet snow. 

"Killian?" Her voice trailed off, her green eyes locking with his blue ones. 

"Aye?" He tried to keep his eyes on hers but as if he were powerless to resist, they dropped to her lips. Her eyes widened slightly, and he wanted to close the distance between them, but the memory of why he was out here on the ice with her crept back into his mind.  Killian Jones, he could hear his mum's voice scolding him, you guard that girl's heart. The breath he'd been holding fled and before he could second-guess his actions, Killian grabbed a handful of snow and dropped it in the v of her jacket, just below her chin. "Gotcha." he crowed scrambling to his feet, giving her space. 

"Argh," Emma sputtered, getting up from the ice and brushing off, "better watch out Jones.  Paybacks can be a bitch." 

~cs~cs~cs~ 

Emma skated away, her thoughts unsettled, but whether they were unsettled because of something Killian hadn't done...or because of something he had, she didn't know. He flirted and there wasn't a girl at Storybrooke High that wasn't affected by his glib tongue, sexy blue eyes or crooked smile. With her though, he was different and had been since her parents...and with that one thought the darkness that had been temporarily abated was back.  It clawed at her, threatening to pull her down into its abyss, only letting her go when it had covered her completely. 

Emma felt her knees start to buckle and the darkness begin to climb up her legs. She was going down...and then...strong arms wrapped around her, bringing her close to a warm male body. His arms made her feel safe and secure as they held her, preventing the darkness from consuming her.   

Closing her eyes, Emma burrowed her face into Killian's shoulder, waiting with bated breath for the feeling to overwhelm her.  She didn't know how long she waited but hesitantly she peered through her lashes expecting the darkness to be coming for her...but, there was nothing.  It was gone and just as had happened several times, he was her champion chasing the darkness away.   

Shyly, Emma stepped backward a foot...and then another, giving Killian a sheepish smile.  "I'm sorry," she began lifting her mittened hand to wipe the dampness from her eyes. 

Killian's cold hand beat her to it when he cupped her jaw, using his thumb to wipe the tears away, "Don't ever apologize for missing your parents, Emma." 

His quiet support took her breath and caused her heart to stutter.  She wanted to let him know how much she appreciated his help, but the words thank you seemed too small.  If only she was brave enough to kiss his lean cheek in a show of gratitude, but...what would he think? 

His blue eyes locked with her green ones, pulling her closer to their fire.  Emma took a deep breath, ready to take that step... 

Killian gave her a lopsided grin, stopping her thought process and tightly squeezed her hand, "Think there's an extra pair of gloves in the box in the gazebo?" 

"Probably," she grinned skating to the banks and stepping through the mounds of snow lining the pond. Emma pushed Killian toward the seat while she rifled through piles of colorful wool before finally locating a pair near the bottom.  The pair she found had belonged to James and when Killian slipped them on tears sprang to her eyes at the thought that James would never again wear them.   

"You alright?" Killian squeezed her fingers gently. 

"Why are you here?" That an eighteen-year-old male could be so empathetic was a surprise.   

"Why are you?" He raised a brow waiting for her answer. 

Emma ducked her head wondering how to explain, "Sometimes, there's a circle of darkness that threatens to engulf me, taking every ounce of my strength and courage and the only way to handle it, is to skate." She lifted her eyes to his, "I keep thinking if I skate fast enough, it will blow the darkness away.  Temporarily, anyway." 

"Oh, Emma," he murmured, "does it work?" 

"Sometimes." She shrugged a shoulder, "But not always. Now, why are you here?" 

"You needed me." He answered simply. 

Emma tilted her head, "Baloney.  How would you even know that if you hadn't talked to David." Then it dawned on her exactly what the date was; not only was it the anniversary of her parents’ death, but it was David...and would have been James' twenty-first birthday.  "Ugh," she grunted, "I am such a selfish bimmff." Killian's hand muffled the derogatory word.  "Where is he, Killian?" 

He sent her a conspiratorial grin, "At Leo's, probably getting drunk.  Liam too," he admitted, "I'll be here to help you get him into bed." 

She studied him for several minutes, "Thanks," she told him softly. "Now, let's see if I can get a small birthday cake made for David before he gets back. 

"Chocolate?" 

"Of course.  Is there any other choice?" she teased. 

They exchanged skates for shoes before climbing the steps to the old farmhouse, "Can I lick the bowl?" Killian pleaded as she walked past him into the warm house. 

~cs~cs~cs~ 

April

David snuck into Leo's thinking he'd watch a little of Emma's lesson and possibly talk Mary Margaret into having lunch while he was in town.  His girls, as he thought of them, were in the middle of the ice, huddled closely together. When they broke apart, Emma skated around the ice before executing a complicated move causing his breath to catch at her beauty on the ice.  She had been skating since she was four, and he had always known she had talent, but since working with Mary Margaret, her skill had risen to the next level.   

The night of his twenty-first birthday, Liam's girlfriend had introduced him to her roommate, Mary Margaret Blanchard and they had been dating since.  She had been someone in the skating world and once Emma discovered that, she had used every opportunity to get Mary Margaret out onto the ice with her. Luckily, for him, and Emma, she hadn't minded and somehow it had morphed into lessons for Emma and other young skaters in Storybrooke.  David couldn't be happier his sister seemed emotionally stronger each day, and some of that was because of the woman he was seeing. 

Emma had changed since that night when he left Killian with her and gone out with Liam.  And even though he still felt guilt over leaving, their grief counselor said it had been the right thing to do...for both.  The goal, he claimed, was to move forward and not back.  David had done that by re-enrolling in classes at Storybrooke U and starting something with the lovely Miss Blanchard. Emma had continued her skating, but with Mary Margaret’s help, she had set goals and her skill on the ice grew daily.   His sister had also been spending time with Killian Jones, and while David liked the boy, he also knew Killian's reputation.  His eye was on them, much to his sister's chagrin. 

The banging of the gate that enclosed the rink pulled his attention back to the present, just in time to see Mary Margaret’s smiling face as she launched herself in his direction, "David," she squealed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I didn't expect to see you today." 

David caught her, pulling her close and gave her a much too quick kiss, "I was in town and couldn't resist stopping to ask you to lunch." 

"And to check on Emma, "she added laughingly. 

He grimaced and thought about denying it, but knew she could read him easily, "Is it that obvious?" 

"No," she looped her arm through his, leading him toward her office, "at least I don't think it's obvious it’s really Killian you’re watching...and not your sister." 

David shook his head, but didn't admit to anything, "So what was the powwow in the middle of the ice?  Is there a problem?" 

"No, no problem," she assured him quickly. "But Emma and I have been talking about the possibility of her entering a few skating competitions this summer." 

"Competitions?" He lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "Is she that good?" 

"Oh David," Mary Margaret shook her head, "yes.  She's very good.  Shall we talk?" 

She walked past him into her office and just before he followed, he looked back over his shoulder one last time and watched his baby sister do a series of jumps across the ice.  When a chill went up his spine at how beautiful she was out there, he knew the answer to his question; yes, she was that good.   

~cs~cs~cs~ 

After Mary Margaret skated off to spend time with David, Emma continued to work on several spots in her routine.  A competition, she thought, wanting to shriek with excitement, a real live competition.   What would Killian think? 

She knew the answer to that without having to think too hard about it; he would be excited for her, but why was she constantly wondering what he was thinking? Since David's birthday, there had been a subtle shift in their relationship, almost to her brother's dismay.  She kept saying that Killian wasn't her boyfriend, but David didn't seem to believe it. He was even more skeptical when Killian started appearing wherever she was, whether it was at her home...or in town. 

At first, she hadn't thought anything strange about Killian being around all the time because she learned that when he was, she felt safe. But as she grew stronger, her therapist warned her about depending on Killian, or anyone, too much.  When that had happened, she had gone the opposite direction, pushing him away without even the benefit of an explanation.  She hadn't gone so far as to push him completely out of her life but stopped confiding and spending time alone with him. Killian hadn't said much about the change in her behavior, but the look in his eyes when she happened to catch him watching her, said he was not only confused, but also hurt.  That Killian had been willing to allow her to see those things, left her unbalanced, a not altogether comfortable feeling. 

It had taken a few well-placed words by her brother before she finally admitted that the way she had been treating Killian wasn't fair, to either of them.  Where to go, and how to get there, were questions her sixteen-year-old brain was having difficulty answering.  Love, with all its nuances and levels, was scary, but was that even the word she should have been using? 

Emma was surrounded by people who bandied the word around every day, but when she broke it down, the word didn't mean the same thing to each.  Ruby loved clothes. Ashley loved babies.  Ruby loved Graham.  And David, he loved Mary Margaret.  Was the way her heart flipped when she looked in Killian's eyes, love? Or was she trying to make sense of something that she couldn't?  She needed to discover what she wanted, how much she wanted and most importantly, whom she wanted.  Was it Killian?  If the answer was yes, then what was she going to do about it and did he want her too, especially after what happened during the Spring Sleigh ride.   

March

The night of the annual Spring Sleigh ride arrived and all Ruby and Ashley cared about was looking good and making sure they found a seat in the same sleigh as the boys they had been drooling over for the past few months.  Emma, on the other hand was a basket case because they would drag her onto the same sleigh and Killian would be there.  That Killian would be there wasn't the big problem...the problem was what exactly she should say to him. 

"Emma," Ruby bounced around, her dark eyes shining with excitement, "I did it.  We're in the sleigh with Graham, Sean, and Killian." She squealed, "It's so exciting." 

"That's great." Emma smiled feeling like her face was stretched in an unnatural position, "Just great."  She was happy for her friends.  Ashley had gone out with Sean a couple of times, but Ruby had been trying to get Graham to ask her out the entire school year. Getting to spend the evening with him might just be the opportunity that either pushed them together or...leave Ruby with a broken heart because whom she thought she wanted didn't want her. Was that her hesitation in not trying to reconcile her feelings for Killian? 

"Come on, Emma," Ruby encouraged, "Don't you think it's time? 

Emma played dumb, hoping to put off whatever her friend was trying to push for just a bit longer. "It's not time to go yet.  We still have a while before the event starts." 

Ruby rolled her eyes, "I know what you're doing, Emma. Stop it and go talk to Killian." 

"Ruby," Emma groaned in frustration, "stop it. I'm not ready to go talk to Killian right now."  She could see him out of the corner of her eye as he stood off to the side talking to Graham.  She wasn't close enough to hear what he was saying but the way he was gesturing with his hands made her think he was talking about her. And if that was true, his gestures said it couldn't be good. 

"Come on, Emma," Ruby continued to plead, "you know you want to."   

Did she want to talk to him? Yes, she did, but what did she say?   Helpless to resist, Emma looked his direction and when her eyes met his, the words, 'run to him,' kept playing over and over in her mind. 

~cs~cs~cs~ 

The past few months had been some of the best months of Killian’s life but also some of the most confusing, and it all centered around a blonde, green-eyed female, Emma Nolan.  He'd thought that after the night of David's birthday, they had reached a new level in their friendship, and for weeks afterward, life had been great.  They spent time together, skating, watching movies, hanging with friends, he hadn’t cared, as long as he was with her. There had been many times during those few weeks when it had seemed natural for him to hold her hand or kiss her goodbye, but he hadn't as he wanted to allow her to set the pace.  She was younger, only sixteen, and as his mum had told him, it was up to him to guard Emma's heart.   

However, his mum forgot to tell him that if he was the one guarding Emma's heart, who was responsible for guarding his?  He hadn't ever thought he needed to worry about that until one day Emma was there and the next, she was gone.   Not that she had left Storybrooke, and not that she had completely left him, but that was how it felt.  The walls were back up and he was once again on the outside looking in and wondering what he had done that was so wrong. 

He had floundered silently because he knew that neither Graham nor Sean would have any idea what to tell him, but it wasn't until he had flunked a test that his mum had taken matters into her own hands. She had explained what was going on with Emma, not only with her healing process, but also tried to give him a bit of insight into the mind of a sixteen-year-old girl.  But where did that leave him? Was he supposed to continue to let her set the pace?  Was he to move on?  How was he to know what she wanted when according to his mum, chances were, even she had no idea?   

Seeing her had become like having one foot in heaven and the other in hell. She was beautiful, caring and kind and when she smiled at him his whole being was overcome with joy. But being around her yet having her treat him no differently than she treated any of his friends had hurt and frustrated him, until that is, he discovered an outlet for his frustration. 

His outlet of choice, for the frustration he had been bottling up, was the video game Super Smash Bros and the more he played, the more addictive it became.  The problem was balancing his school work with college decisions but when he was in middle of a game, he felt as if his head was once again on straight.  But with the Spring Sleigh ride in front of him, he would be near Emma and since he had no clue how he should behave, he was worried.   

"You were playing Smash until what time?" Graham laughed at Killian as he fought off yet another yawn.   

"Hmm, 5:00 or maybe 6:00 this morning," he admitted sheepishly, rubbing his hand over his face hoping to push away the fatigue. "Then my dad woke me at 9:00 am to help clean the garage." he groused at the memory of how he had spent his morning.   

"Don't you just hate it when your parents..." Graham started to say before his words stopped and Killian only had to turn his head to know that Ruby Lucas had garnered his friend’s attention. 

"You could ask her out, you know?" Killian teased. 

Graham swallowed hard, his eyes still trained on Ruby, "Think she'd say yes?" 

"As if you even need to ask." Killian scoffed. A flash of yellow crossed his vision reminding him of a recent Smash match he had played and lost, "Let me tell you about my match against an opponent called the Villager." He went on to explain how he had been defeated by the opponent, even going as far as acting out some of the moves he had used during the match. 

"That's what kept you up?" Graham asked finding his voice once again. 

"Yes, it was..." Then he realized the yellow belonged to Emma and his words got stuck in his throat.  She had arrived and he still had no idea how he should behave. 

"Go talk to her, dickhead." Graham pushed him toward Emma and as he closed the distance between them, what to say so she wouldn't feel threatened ran over and over in his mind.   

"Hi," he settled on, giving her the smile he had been practicing in the mirror.  "How are you?"  He mentally kicked himself at his lack of originality.  When she just smiled, he tried to think of something else to say, but then she dropped her eyes and he panicked, moving away from anything personal, "Ever played Super Smash Bros?" 

"Super Smash Bros?" her brows rose, "no, I haven't.  Why?" 

"Well, you..." He explained the rules of the game, telling her about a few of his matches, but before he was able to finish, it was time to start the ride. 

The sleigh that he, Emma and friends would be in was a smaller sleigh with a seat up front for two of them and one behind for the other four. "I'll drive." Killian watched Graham and Sean settle Ruby and Ashley into the back seat, tucking wool blankets around them.   

He held his breath as Emma exchanged looks with Ruby before climbing up onto the front seat, "Coming?" she asked tucking the blanket around her leg on one side leaving the other open for him. 

Bloody hell ran through Killian's mind as he registered the size of the seat that he had to sit on.  There was no way he was going to be able to sit next to her and not touch her.   If I touch her, he decided, he would just think Mario, Luigi, fire flowers, super stars and with his plan in place, climbed up next to her.   

The beginning part of the ride wove in and out of open fields before they trailed into the woods and the shadows around them grew longer. The night was quiet with only the jingling of the horse’s harnesses, and the soft sounds of the sleigh's runners as they slid across the packed snow and the hushed voices of the riders.   

Killian found himself relaxing the farther they rode away from the starting line, as he became more sure that if Emma's leg slid against his, it wouldn't be any big deal.  That was until there was a quick right bend in the trail and she slid closer, her thigh aligning tightly to his. He bit his tongue, the sharp pain briefly taking his mind away from the feel of a part of her touching a piece of him. His heart raced, his body flamed, he needed...Waluigi, mushrooms, jumps, throws...he repeated over and over until his heart slowed and his body cooled. 

When they arrived at the finish line where a large bonfire was already burning full force, Killian pulled the sleigh up into an open spot. The popping of the flames and the creaking of the leather seats served as a backdrop to the various conversations going on around them.  Initially, Killian was comfortable with the silence until it became obvious that the four individuals behind him were communicating nonverbally.  The moans, sighs and slurping noises ratcheted up his feeling of unease and after surreptitiously checking the time, he glanced at Emma, who looked just as uncomfortable as he felt.   

Unable to think of anything to say at that time, Killian took off his glove and found a video of one of his Smash matches, "Look, here's that game I was talking about." He pressed play and leaning close kept a running commentary of the moves, the characters, and the weapons until it was time to leave.   

The ride back was uneventful and while Emma hadn't said much, Killian didn't feel like the silence was uncomfortable.  Emma's thigh slid along his again and just as before, he thought about getting home and diving back into another match.  The evening hadn't been everything he wanted it to be, but he felt sure that he hadn't given Emma any more reasons to run farther away. 

~cs~cs~cs~ 

Coming back to the present, Emma couldn't help but think that the whole evening had felt weird.  On one hand, Killian hadn't given her any reason to feel uncomfortable, but the night certainly hadn't turned out as she had anticipated. There had been one or two times when she had looked into his eyes, and thought she saw some unspoken emotions, but what came from his mouth said, buddies.  Yes, she wanted to be Killian's friend, but his buddy wasn’t what she had in mind. She was buddies with Killian’s friends and his brother, Liam and she certainly didn't stare at their lips wondering what they would feel like if they touched hers.  "Argh," she moaned, picking up speed ready to attempt a triple axel.   

Emma skated around the ice twice, lined up for the forward takeoff and spun around.  Reaching the third revolution, she counted in her head, trying to time her landing, but even though she landed, it was with both feet causing her to lose balance and sprawl onto the ice. "Damn." 

"Need a hand?" A familiar voice appeared out of nowhere, its timber sending a little thrill through her system. 

Emma lifted her head to see Killian standing above her, holding his hand out to help her up.  She slowly lifted hers and when his fingers closed around her smaller one, her entire being immediately warmed.  How was it, she wondered, that just a small touch from this boy takes away all the coldness inside of me? "Thank you.  Were you looking for me?" 

"Aye," his blue eyes darkened, "I wondered if maybe we could talk...sometime." he added, almost as an afterthought. 

Emma was torn.  She really wanted to talk to him, but what if he just wanted to talk about Smash? "Ugh...sure, but..." 

"Emma," David called from the other side of the wall, "ready?"  Then as if he had just noticed whom Emma was talking to added, "Oh, hello Killian," his grin turned wolfish, "decided on a college yet?" 

Killian met her eyes, obvious frustration hidden in the blue depths as he answered her brother, "Cornell." The look he gave her told her college was one thing he had wanted to tell her. 

"Nice.  Liam thought that was the one you would choose.  Ready, Emma?" 

Emma sent Killian an apologetic look, "Another time?" 

"Sure," he whispered.  "Call me?"

~cs~cs~cs~~                     

May

Once the decision was made for Emma to enter a skating competition in late summer, her training changed drastically.  The relaxed practices and flexible schedule were replaced by rigorous ones that involved ice time before and after school and longer practices on Saturdays.  Mary Margaret also made her follow a healthier eating schedule and add dancing and yoga several times a week. Emma no longer had time to just hang with friends, in fact, she barely had time for sleep. 

The roller coaster situation with Killian popped into her mind at the oddest times, but each time she shoved it away as she still hadn't come to any conclusions about him...or about them.  She tried not to think about it but when Mary Margaret casually asked about him during one of their practices, somehow everything spilled out. Looking back on that conversation helped get her through weeks of running from one thing to another because Killian's behavior, according to her wise coach, was that he was just as confused as she.  With that in mind, she parked her car and slowly walked toward Granny's and Killian’s graduation party.   

~cs~cs~cs~

The craziness that he thought was his life before the sleigh ride was nothing compared to what it became after.  Between college decisions, exams and graduation he barely had time for anything, most especially dealing with his confusing emotions about Emma.   He knew she was busy with training and while he wanted to spend time with her, he contented himself with sometimes watching her practice.  When she started staring in his dreams in her tiny skating dresses, he realized his heart had made its choice.  But with his mum's words, "guard her heart, Killian" ringing in his ears, he was at a crossroad as to what his next move needed to be.   

The decision didn't keep him from wanting to be with her every opportunity possible.  With that very thought in mind he had invited her to his graduation party and secretly counted down the days until it arrived.  He wanted the chance to just be with her, no pressure, no expectations and with dancing, loud music and most of their friends there, his hope was that fear would not be present...for either of them.   

The night of the party, while he wanted her to be there the entire time, he knew that was impossible.  She had other obligations and even though he knew she was going to be late, it hadn't stopped him from looking at the clock every few minutes.  He felt when she had appeared as the place quieted and the very air in the room sparked to life.   

She took one step inside the door and stopped to look around, he hoped for him. "Dance?" Without really giving her a chance to say no, he led her into the middle of their friends and pulled her into his arms.  "Alright?" He fought to maintain a normal voice, but with his heart racing he was afraid he sounded like a right git. 

"Perfect," she murmured sliding her hand up to his shoulder, her fingertips barely grazing the side of his neck. 

Killian bit down on the inside of his cheek, hoping the pain would keep his mind where it needed to be and not where it wanted to go. When the metallic taste of blood flooded his mouth, he mentally rolled his eyes thinking reciting Smash terms was much less painful, but tightening his arms, pulled her closer, as being this near heaven with her was worth the pain. 

He kept her on the dance floor, and in his arms through several songs before she laughingly reminded him she still had on her coat. "Bloody hell, Swan, why didn't you say something?" 

"I just did, silly." Her grin weakened his knees, but when she handed it to him and he got a good look at her dress, every clean thought flew out of the room and his entire body stood up and yelled, "Here I am!  Here I am!"  He couldn't think of anything to say, but with a slight nod disappeared to take care of her wrap. 

Later that evening, as the last song of the night was playing, Killian, once more, brought her into his arms. "You look beautiful tonight, Emma, in case...you know...I haven't told you." Her skirt was short, her top was tight and the back was completely open, exposing her creamy skin.   

"Don't worry," she gently patted his cheek, "you've told me that dozens of times." Her dimple appeared and her green eyes sparkled, "but feel free to tell me again." 

"I'm sorry," he felt panic start to rise, "I didn't mean to sound like a ponce." 

"No," she laid her index finger over his lips shushing him, "I wasn't complaining.  Okay?" He was barely able to form words when she leaned closer, tucking her nose into the V of his shirt and sighed contentedly.  Killian gently rested his head against hers and in her arms dreamed of the day when one day he could claim her as his. 

~cs~cs~cs~ 

July

"Ready to go?" David carried their suitcases to the car and when Emma still hadn't shown up, ran back inside to yell again. They still needed to pick up Killian and Mary Margaret before heading to Philadelphia for the summer championships. If they didn't hit traffic, they would get there in time for check in and while Emma didn't seem nervous, he was carting around plenty of anxiety for them both. 

Once at the arena, he stood next to Killian watching Emma skate around the ice warming up.  Periodically she would skate off to talk to Mary Margaret and then skate back onto the ice to fix whatever they had talked about. "She looks beautiful out there." he murmured, the lump in his throat growing when he thought of how proud their parents would have been of her. 

"Just like a swan," Killian responded, with something like ahh in his voice. 

"Are you nervous?" David finally asked, realizing the longer he stood there, the more anxious he grew and made a decision, "I'm going to go find my seat.  You coming?" 

"Uhh, well," Killian ducked his head, "Emma handed me this, " he held up the coach’s badge, "and asked if I would stay with Mary Margaret for support.  That okay?" 

David looked off in the opposite direction and bit his lip that kept wanting to lift into a smile.  Finally, feeling he had his emotions under control, he glanced back at Killian and answered gruffly, "Sure. Tell her good luck."   

~cs~cs~cs~ 

Emma had never skated in competitions and with no expectations for her to win, her plan was to just go out onto the ice and have a good time. When her group was called to warm up, she felt relaxed, easily landing her jumps, until, that is...she skated off the ice.  When that happened, the butterflies flying around inside, seemed to wake up...all at once. 

She would skate in the middle part of the group and while waiting for her turn, she took the time to evaluate what was going on inside her head. There was a part of her that was terrified, but the other part...it was ready.  Ready to show others what she could do.  And most of all...ready to have fun. 

"Ready, Emma?" her friend and coach Mary Margaret repeated what she was thinking. 

"She's ready." Killian's hot breath blew across her ear sending a little chill up her spine. "Aren't you, Swan?" 

Emma slanted a glance his direction and sent him a quick grin before her eyes skittered back onto the ice as her name was called. "I was born ready," she whispered pushing away from the wall to take her place in the center of the ice. 

Once the music started, Emma felt her whole body relax as she set her arms and feet into their starting position, "This is you for you, Mom." she whispered as the music flowed through her and she became one with the ice. 

A split jump. 

Double axel into a double toe loop. 

Sit spin. 

A flip jump into a lutz. 

A salchow jump into a sit spin. 

Double toe loop, single toe loop. 

Around and around she skated, her momentum and excitement growing with every jump she landed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the crowd responding to her skating, clapping and cheering, making her feel more powerful than she had ever felt. 

When the music reached its crescendo just before slowing, Emma threw herself into her last two jumps, ending the faster part of the routine with a Biellman spin. The roars gave her a thrill and as the music slowed and she glided across the ice with her arms spread wide, slowly undulating in and out and her leg out behind her, she truly felt like the swan that Killian said she resembled.   

With one last push, she arched her back and stretched her arms even wider than before, allowing her fingers to gracefully fall into position, as if she were wrapping herself in a large pair of wings.  With the last notes fading, Emma smoothly skated to a stop and bowed her head.   

The swan had come to a rest 

She had done it.  She had competed in her first competition against girls she had watched on television in what seemed like forever. With the crowd's roars in her ears, she bowed and skated off the ice into the arms of Killian Jones, her champion. 

~cs~cs~cs~ 

Regina Mills knew talent when she saw it and Emma Nolan had talent.  Hers wasn't polished like you would expect from the skaters in the Olympics, but raw and natural: a gift.  The kind that brought coaches rushing for the opportunity to work with them, because they knew that with the right coaching, the skater could develop into something special. 

As the owner of Mills Stars on Ice, Regina wanted the opportunity to be able to mold that talent.  She knew that finding good skaters was easy but finding a great skater...that was rare.  She had been part of the skating world long enough to know what to look for, and Emma Nolan might very well be it.   

"And that's why I got up at the crack of dawn," mumbled Regina as she drove into the town of Storybrooke, Maine.   

According to her sources, the woman who was acting as Emma's coach could be found working at a place called Leo's.  The hope was that the coach would introduce her to Emma and her family and she could leave Storybrooke tomorrow having signed a new skater.   

The town wasn't very large and it didn't take long before Regina had located and was parked in front of Leo's.  Based on its looks, she expected the place to be like any other gathering place in a small town and when she opened the door, she wasn't disappointed.  The cold air from the ice, the loud music and the smell of sweat, salt and spilled beer assaulted her senses all at once.  "Just like home." she murmured as she followed the signs to where the office was located in the corner of the building. 

As it was still early, the place wasn't crowded, with only a few individuals preparing for the day. Regina was directed to the back where she was told she could wait for Coach Blanchard.  As the offices were in the back corner, it forced her to walk around the entire rink, allowing her the opportunity to watch the woman work.   

The group of students she was working with were young, maybe five or six, and they appeared to love their coach.  Her voice carried across the ice and without raising it each of the young skaters performed as directed.  Very little acting out or misbehaving and when the lesson was over they hugged their teacher before skating in the opposite direction from where she was standing. When the woman stepped off the ice, Regina was waiting, "Mary Margaret Blanchard," she held out her hand, "I'm..." 

"You're Regina Mills," Mary Margaret interrupted her. Regina inclined her head in agreement. "You want to coach Emma, don't you?" 

Regina studied the petite woman in front of her, surprised by her direct comment, "I do.  Do you think that's a possibility?" 

Mary Margaret shrugged, "That's up to Emma." 

~cs~cs~cs~ 

August

The few weeks after they returned from Philadelphia were a blur for Killian as, he was sure, they were for Emma.  She was leaving in the morning to move to Boston to begin training full-time for what might be the Olympics and he was leaving for Cornell. They had grown close the past few months, but he still found he couldn't shake his mum's words about guarding Emma's heart from his head. She had known too much loss and he was determined that its fragile state would never shatter because of him.  He wanted her to fly free, knowing somehow, that even though she reminded him of a beautiful swan, what he saw now was her as a cygnet.  Her fully mature form would outshine them all, of that he had no doubt. 

Their last night together Killian planned to take Emma sailing. He wasn't sure what they would say to each other, but it was important to him that she knew that he cared.  He needed to hold her in his arms, inhale the sweet scent of her shampoo and run his fingers through the silky strands of her hair before their lives changed.   

He sailed his small boat into the middle of the Bay and dropped anchor.  This far out, they were away from the lights of town and millions of stars could be seen spread out above them. The gentle back and forth motion of the boat served to settle him as he reclined back onto the deck, "Lay with me, Swan?" He patted next to him and just as he'd hoped, she lay back, "Well," he clasped her hand in his, "how did I do?" He indicated the canvas that was the sky above them. 

Emma rolled toward him, propping her head on her hand, "You expect me to say you did a good job because you got lucky and it's not cloudy tonight?" 

He sent her a cheeky grin, "Aye." 

"Please," she poked him in the side, "you're pretty cocky, aren't you?” 

Her choice of vocabulary words created all kinds of visions in his head but before they could completely coalesce he shoved them aside. "Are you excited about tomorrow?" he asked changing the topic to a safer one. 

"A little," she giggled when she correctly interpreted his disbelieving look, and admitted, "okay, a lot.  But I'm worried about David being alone.  Think he'll be okay?" 

Killian had watched the way Emma's brother behaved around Mary Margaret while they were in Philadelphia, "Something tells me he'll be fine.  After all," he rolled toward her, imitating her position, "the lovely Miss Blanchard will be there if he needs her." 

"True." she answered softly, her eyes locking with his. 

The longer he stared into her eyes, the more he felt he was sinking, being pulled into their green depths.  His body was following as if there was a magic bond tying them together. Her hot breath blew over his lips, her eyes slowly closed and Killian could imagine closing that last little gap and covering her lips with his.  

"Killian?" Emma's small hand cupped his jaw, "Don't you want to kiss me?" 

A low groan escaped before he could stop it, "Bloody hell, Emma," he pleaded, "don't do this to me." 

"Do what?" she asked obviously confused by his statement." 

Killian rolled onto his back and pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering what he should say, but then finally admitted, "More than anything, but I was trying to be..." 

"Killian," Emma's face suddenly filled his vision, "I'm sixteen---" 

"And I'm eighteen," he interrupted her. "I'm supposed to," 

Emma put her finger over his lips, "You're supposed to," she touched her lips to his, lightly, innocently. "Teach me," a closed mouth kiss landed on one corner of his, "show me." 

He tried to be strong, tried to resist, but she was too close, and she smelled too good. When her little sharp teeth nipped at his earlobe, he couldn't resist any longer and wrapping her in his arms, pulling her lithe frame flush with his body. "Open for me, Swan." He nipped on her bottom lip, her top lip, back to her bottom one.  She tasted just like he had imagined, and he wasn't sure he would ever get enough of her.  Slowly, he slid his tongue inside her mouth, lazily allowing it to meet and greet its mate. Killian's whole body was on fire, but he wasn't ready to let her go.  One more kiss, he thought again plundering the depths of her hot mouth.  One more kiss then I'll take her home.   

The kiss went on and on and just as he felt that the top of his head was going to blow, he backed away, "Don't forget me, little swan." 

"Oh, Killian, never," Emma cried throwing her arms around his neck. "I'll miss you." 

"And I'll miss you," he promised placing one last lingering kiss on her lips.   

Killian walked Emma up the steps of the old farmhouse, kissed her on the cheek and pushed her inside.  “Fly free and grow, love.  I’ll be waiting for you at the end.” he promised. 

April,  ~ three years later

Emma's day had been long thanks to the yearly skating exhibition thrown by the Mills Stars on Ice.  She had been up at 6:00 am, practiced, lunch then several exhibition events before being expected to attend the party afterward.  Smiling and exchanging chit-chat with the sponsors and press was wearing thin, giving her a claustrophobic feeling.  She looked around and without telling anyone slipped away from the noise into another part of the facility, one that not many visited unless there was a special event.  A smaller, quieter rink where she often escaped, if she needed to be alone to think. 

Since being away from Storybrooke, her dreams and goals had collided, becoming a reality.  She had won ribbons and medals, slowly working her way up into the upper echelon of the female skating world, but she had to admit...she didn't love it.  The more the coaches expected from her, the more she found she didn't know who she was any longer.  The more she pushed to please them, the more she sometimes felt like running.  Those were the times she usually went looking for solitude; a place to skate the darkness away. 

The rink had been used for an exhibition earlier in the day and instead of clear ice, a corner of it had been taken over with tables and chairs.  However, since the area was relatively small, Emma didn't care and stepped onto the ice. There was a hush in the air as she skated around, immediately giving her a sense of peace, but the quiet in her head didn't last long. It didn't take many revolutions before the opening strains of songs that she had skated to started playing, begging her to skate for them just one more time.  When the music from home took its turn, a chill ran through her system and the routine she had skated came to life.   

She was one with the ice, gliding, jumping and spinning. With every revolution around the rink, her cares and the darkness that had been threatening blew farther and farther away.  The routine was almost over when the sound of a door opening distracted her and her skate rolled over an electrical cord, sending her sliding face first across the ice. That she was going to hit the furniture that was where it shouldn't have been, zipped through her brain a second before impact and her head bounced against the ice, once...twice. 

"Emma!" Someone screamed, just as the darkness claimed her completely. 

~cs~cs~cs~ 

June

As soon as Killian was back in Storybrooke, he made a quick stop at home before making his way to the Nolan farm. Something was going on with Emma, but exactly what it was, he was in the dark. He had noticed though, that lately she had become distant, refusing to listen to any of his concerns, but not by just brushing them aside, she was ignoring them...ignoring him. And while he was buried in school work and in another country, it was easy to overlook the distance between them, but now that he was home, he could no longer let it go. Since the summer he graduated from high school, there had been something developing between them and even if she refused to see that, they had been friends.  He'd missed her friendship...he'd missed her. 

When he turned off the main road, onto the drive leading to the Nolan farm, he immediately sensed that things were off...different. He hadn't been to the farm in almost a year, but the house looked somber, darker, almost as if the light surrounding it had gone out.  "Oh, Swan," he whispered exiting the old truck and running up the steps to knock on the door, "it's going to be bad, isn't it?" 

The door was opened slowly, hesitantly, almost as if the person behind it wasn't ready to face what was on the other side, "Yea," David bellowed, then as if he registered who it was, responded in a softer voice, "oh Killian.  It's you." The gruff voice of the man who opened the door was a shock, but not as shocking as his appearance.  He was dressed in clothes that looked like he'd been wearing them for days, he hadn't shaved, his hair was sticking up at odd angles, and his eyes were bloodshot. What was most telling about his state of mind though, were his eyes.  David's eyes usually sparkled with life and light, but the eyes looking back at him were dull, almost defeated, as if he was unsure about where to turn and what to do.  Even after his parents and brother were killed David's light hadn't completely gone out. 

"David," Killian asked hesitantly, "what's going on?"  The thought that he wasn't going to be allowed inside briefly crossed his mind, but then David opened the door a little wider and walked away, leaving the choice to him.   

Was he prepared for what was going on inside the walls of the old farmhouse, floated through his mind as he stepped through the door, but if Emma was in trouble, there was nothing he wouldn't do to help.  The somber, dark feeling that he had recognized from the outside continued in the house. The air was stale and the clutter and chaos that greeted him surprised him, almost to the point that he felt he needed to go back out and check to make sure he was in the right place.  This wasn't the cozy Nolan home he was used to seeing. 

Killian moved aside debris and sat down on a chair across from David, who was sitting, leaning forward, elbows on his legs, his head bowed. "Where's Emma, David?  Is she alright?"  As soon as the words were out, David lifted his head and the look in his eyes answered his question, "Bloody hell, David.  Tell me!" he demanded fighting to keep the panic he was feeling inside from rising to the surface. 

~cs~cs~cs~

David looked at the younger man and the peace that came over him solidified his decision; he was telling Killian everything. Emma had made him promise not to call the younger man in England, but now that Killian was back in Storybrooke, all bets were off.  They needed help, especially Emma, and the man who had been there for her the last time was waiting for an explanation, "There was an accident." 

"Bloody hell, David," Killian barked impatiently, "I know about the bloody accident.   I spoke to Emma after it happened and she assured me she was fine." 

"She lied," David took a deep breath and bluntly laid the rest of the story out, "she's blind." 

"What!?" Killian snapped, pushing up from the chair to move restlessly around the room.  "What happened?  Why is this the first I've heard about it?  What's being done?" 

David let him vent until he ran out of questions, "Sit down and I'll tell you what I can."  Without holding anything back, he told Killian that yes, after the accident, everyone, including the doctors thought Emma was just fine.  But the next day, against everyone’s advice, she practiced, and half-way through the session collapsed and was rushed back to the hospital. "Regina called me with the news and I drove to Boston." David told him about the fear and the helplessness that he felt as he drove south. "When she woke up in the hospital, her vision was gone." The feelings of being helpless still weighed heavily on his mind.   

Killian was silent for several seconds before quietly asking, "What do the doctor's say?" 

Unable to sit still any longer, David paced the room, "Wait and see, mainly." He shrugged, "They gave me a lot of medical mumbo jumbo, but the gist is, there's swelling that's causing the blindness. They think it's temporary but are unable to give any kind of timeline."   

"And she sees nothing?" 

"Shadows, I think, but she doesn't say much." He took a deep breath and continued, "Yesterday, I took her to a specialist who was surprised that she was seeing so little.  He said it seems like her body is fighting her." He didn't mention the rest of the doctor's comments about the longer there's a problem, the less likely it was that her vision would return completely.  That was not an option for his sister.  She would see again.   

Killian finally relaxed and dropped down into the chair across from him before asking, "How's Emma handling all this?  And why didn't she want me to know?" 

"Well," David took a deep breath, "initially, while it kept her off the ice, she treated it like she expected to wake up one day and she would be able to see again.  But then as days turned to weeks, which turned to months," he shuddered remembering their ride home yesterday, "she closed herself off." 

"But I'm her friend," Killian cried brokenly. 

"Trust me," David sympathized, "I tried reasoning with her, not only about you, but this entire town; however, she didn't want anyone to know about her condition.  Said she didn't want anyone's pity." He didn't say anything to Killian, but Emma's situation had also affected his relationship with Mary Margaret and even his time with friends. He was at a point where he didn't know how to help either Emma or himself. 

"Why would she think I would pity her?" Killian shook his head in confusion, "I've never pitied her," and then as if he had missed something wondered out loud, "have I?" 

"It wasn't your pity, she worried about," David tried to get the younger man to understand. "She was worried you would just run out on your studies.   She was worried about your future, Killian."   David watched Killian try to process everything he had just been told and hoped that he would be able to talk some sense into his hard-headed sister. 

"Will she see me?" Killian finally asked, the pain he was feeling evident in his eyes. 

"I don't know, Killian." David sighed, "The news yesterday was the toughest yet and since we've been home, she hasn't said much."  He pointed upstairs, "You're welcome to try.  I'll be in my room if I'm needed."  He picked up his phone on the way down the hall thinking he had someone he needed to call. 

~cs~cs~cs~ 

Emma lay curled up on her bed, Killian's old sweatshirt wrapped around her, earplugs in her ears, listening to songs from her skating world. After her parent’s death, when the darkness threatened to consume her, the only things saving her were skating and being held.  David helped, and she loved him for it, but it had been Killian's arms that chased the darkness away.  This time though, she couldn't get away from the darkness, as it was there all the time. Threatening to overwhelm and drag her into an abyss so deep she would be lost forever. 

Time to her didn't hold the same meaning as it had just a few months ago.  Then time had revolved around daily dance class, yoga, practice, meals, and lights out and on a grander scale, competitions, exhibitions, and coming home. Now though, she had no concept of time. She couldn't exercise in the same way. She couldn't skate.  She couldn't see.   

Initially, the darkness had been complete, almost as if you were in a room that was pitch black and no matter how wide you tried to make your eyes, you couldn't see anything...not even your hand in front of you.   It was like a vacuum pulling her down. Thankfully, that hadn't lasted long, and the darkness gave way to grey.  Then she could see shadows.  Then she could tell if it was day or night.  

She'd found Killian's old Storybrooke High sweatshirt one day not long after David had brought her home, and even though it had been years since she had worn it, she could still smell him.  It wasn't as warm as he was, but she found that wrapped in it the darkness right in front of her face never came any closer, that is, until yesterday's news.   The visit hadn't given her much hope that she would one day be the Emma of old, in fact just the opposite.  She had heard the doctor's tone of voice.  It said, ‘I'm giving up.’  It said, ‘prepare to be blind for the rest of your life.’ But if that was the case, then how did she prevent the darkness from swallowing her whole?   

When Killian arrived, Emma had been on her way downstairs and had stopped to listen.  But the gentle buzz of his voice talking with her brother had been too much too handle. Her first thought had been to hide, which had driven her back to her room, but what was next? Being alone wasn't easy, especially not after the craziness of the last few years.  When she was alone there were too many questions she kept asking herself but was too afraid to answer.  And when she was alone, there were too many dreams waiting to be filled. 

~cs~cs~cs~

On the way up the stairs, Killian tried to make sense out of everything David had said, but the only things that kept running through his mind were Emma's blind and why didn't she tell him.  That hurt, and he was going to have to deal with the pain, but later, much later.  Emma needed him, and he would be there for her in whatever capacity she allowed.   

When he reached the landing just outside of her room, it was almost too quiet. Emma and David liked music and with their louder is better motto, complete silence was rare. Had Emma's time away from Storybrooke, and him, changed her that much?  He needed to hope not, but as he prepared to enter her room, he found he was holding his breath concerned at what he would see. 

The door wasn't shut completely, but when he knocked softly his touch pushed the door open.  His first view of the room was nothing had changed, but the once vibrant colors inside had faded over time.  Killian located Emma lying in the middle of her bed, unmoving, eyes staring straight ahead, sightless...empty...looking very lost. 

She had her earplugs in, and knowing she wouldn't hear him, he walked toward the bed on shaky legs.  Seeing her in this condition was tearing him apart, piece by piece and that wasn't what she needed right now.  She needed his strength. She needed his love. 

She must have sensed his presence for when he reached the bed, Emma had sat up, removing her earplugs.  "Killian?" 

"Aye, love, it's me," he answered softly, sinking down next to her.  "How did you know?" 

Her lips lifted in a semblance of a smile, "I smelled you." Her answer was stiff and her voice scratchy, as if she had forgotten how to use it. 

"I smell that bad?" he teased. "I showered." His arms, as if they had a mind of their own, needed to touch her and picking her up, Killian brought her small frame onto his lap, hugging her tightly. 

She curled against him naturally as if she were made to be in his arms, "You don't smell bad, Killian.  But," he felt her shrug, "like you." 

He wasn't sure exactly what she thought he smelled like but had to admit that she also had a unique scent, "And you, Emma, smell like you." She sent him a quick smile before snuggling a bit closer, "Why didn't you tell me?" 

"Why?" He thought he heard a touch of uncertainty in her voice, "You can't tell me that you've never made decisions for my own good." 

"Bloody hell, Swan, that's—-" 

"—-Don't tell me that's different," she snapped, some of her old fire rearing its head. "My inclination was to make sure you didn't ignore what you were supposed to be doing." She wilted, the fire draining her quickly, "Besides, it’s over, a moot point.  You're home and I'm blind." 

Killian closed his eyes, trying to control his emotions and what she must be feeling, "What can you see?" he whispered. 

"Shadows," she leaned back, tilting her face up to his, "When I look at you, I can see your dark hair, dark," she hesitated, lifting her hand to cup his jaw, "beard? This is new." 

He laid his hand over hers as it rubbed back and forth along his jaw, "It's fairly new," he admitted, "thought it made me look dashing." 

"Hmm, I like it." She replaced her hand with her cheek, "even though it is a little rough." 

"Oh, Swan," he groaned as her nearness broke through every other feeling that he had been experiencing, but he couldn't...wouldn't go there. "Talk to me.  Tell me what I can do to help you." 

She didn't answer for several minutes, "I want you to take me skating." she revealed as if it was the most obvious choice in the world. 

~cs~cs~cs~ 

Killian picked Emma up early the next day and after assuring David he would take care of her, they drove to Leo's.  As he had hoped, the ice was empty, but it didn't do anything to calm his nerves.  He wasn't convinced this was a good idea, but Emma had reminded him that when the darkness threatened before she had skated.  "Emma," he tried keeping his voice calm, "are you sure about this?" 

Emma squeezed his hand, "I need to skate," her green eyes pleaded with him. "You know why."   

She sat down, pushed off her tennis shoe and easily slipped her foot into her skate. "Let me help," he reached for the laces, his hands covering her smaller ones. 

Emma pushed his hands away, "I need to do this, Killian." 

"Fine." He sat next to her and went to work on his own understanding her need, but not liking it. 

Emma had finished lacing up the first skate and had moved onto the second before she said anything else, "It never changes, does it?" There was a melancholy sound to her voice he hadn’t heard before. 

"What?" He was confused by her abrupt shift in topics, "Your skates? Leo's?" 

"Leo's." She leaned against his shoulder, "The smells, the sounds.  I'm hoping the feel of the ice too.  Ready?" 

"Are you sure?" He probably shouldn't have but he had to ask her once more." 

"Killian," she leaned even closer, her breath mingling with his, "I need to do this for me.  Do you understand that?" 

Did he?  Did he understand her need to be independent and do it on her own?  He finally nodded, but then realized she couldn't see what he was doing, "Alright, Swan.  You win this round." 

Her smile lit up the room with its beauty and heaven help him, he knew he was in trouble, because whatever he had been feeling as an eighteen-year-old was nothing compared to what he felt for her now.   

~cs~cs~cs~

Emma took Killian's hands and allowed him to lead her onto the ice.  Her vision today was different, her greys were turning whitish, but still blurry, unable to distinguish specifics.  The ice felt strange under her feet, and her natural inclination was to try to see where she was, both on the rink, and on the ice." 

"Stand up straight, love," Killian murmured, pulling her slowly along. 

"I'm trying to see," she admitted, "my balance is off." 

"Maybe close your eyes? Just get a feel of the ice." His suggestion made sense and once she did that, her movements didn't feel as jerky and unnatural.   

Holding on to Killian, Emma felt secure, safe, knowing there was no way he would allow her to be harmed.  When he let go of her hands to move beside her, she had a brief feeling of unease, but as soon as his arm circled her waist, that unease dissipated. They skated in tandem, the ease of their movements serving to relax her muscles even more.   

"How close to the side are we?" she asked, trying to decide if she had the courage to try skating alone. 

Killian's hesitation had her wondering if he was going to ignore her question, but then he answered, giving her more than she had anticipated, "About five feet, we're skating a wide circle near the back where Mary Margaret's office is located."   

After spending so much time at the rink, it wasn't hard for her to picture in her mind the place and exactly where they were.  She started counting their steps each time they turned, working to get a handle on the timing. Things felt familiar and the more they skated, the greater her confidence.  She could do it, "Let me go, Killian," she requested before she changed her mind. 

"Let you go?  Why?" His hold tightened around her waist, as if he could read her thoughts and was hoping he was wrong. 

"Let me skate alone." Emma pushed away from him, evading his reach, even without her eyesight.  "I can do it.  Please let me try."   

"Bloody hell, Swan, you're going to give me a heart attack." Killian sputtered. 

Emma ignored him, all her concentration going to what she wanted to do.  She thought about where she was on the ice and set up for a sit spin, throwing her leg in the air, landing on one foot to spin around.  She could feel the ice beneath her skate and just as the thought, I've got this, floated through her mind, her concentration broke causing her to slip and fall across the ice.  Nice move, Nolan, she chided herself. 

She heard Killian's stop, before he demanded, "My hand's in front of you, use it." 

Emma lifted her chin and not for the first time, wished she could see.  There was something besides anger in his voice and while she really wanted to snipe right back, she didn't.  She laid her hand in his and as soon as she did, he hauled her up and into his arms as if she were a treasure that needed to be sheltered. 

"You could have been hurt," his voice was thick with emotion. "I can't bear the thought of your being in pain." 

Emma's heart warmed in response to Killian's behavior toward her safety.  It was everything she had dreamed about having someday and more, and as they stood in the center of that cold ice rink, her heart heated, opened and bloomed. 

~cs~cs~cs~

It had been several days since Killian had taken Emma ice skating and he still hadn't gotten the vision of her going down on the ice out of his mind.  She could have been hurt, but what had she done?  Thanked him for helping her up and done another one, and this time, she had executed it perfectly...at least he thought so.  She had rolled her eyes, made a self-deprecating comment and tried again.  And each time his heart climbed a little higher in his throat.  She very well could be the death of him.   

Of course, that hadn't stopped him from jumping into his truck to meet her at Leo's the minute she called.  That she hadn't wanted him to pick her up had him curious. Was it possible that her vision had returned, and she wanted to surprise him?  Or was there something else she wanted to share? 

David, Mary Margaret and Emma were sitting in a booth not far from the door and as soon as he slid beside his golden-haired swan, David turned angry eyes his way, "Can you talk some sense into her." He pointed at his sister, "She's bound and determined to get herself killed.  And this one, " he indicated his girlfriend, "is willing to go along with her." 

Killian looked back and forth between the two women, "Would one of you explain what he's talking about?" 

Emma nibbled on her bottom lip for a few seconds before she slanted her body toward him, "I'm going to start training again and enter a competition in late July." 

His gut clenched at the thought that he might lose her to Boston again, but if that was what she wanted then he would support her. "That's terrific, love.  So, your sight came back?"  The look that crossed her face answered his question, "You mean to tell me you don't have your sight back?" 

"No," Emma whispered, "but I need to do this for me.  Can't you support me?" 

His girl had more courage in her little finger than anyone else he knew, but he could admit to himself, it terrified him, "What do you think?" He raised a brow and waited for Mary Margaret to give him her opinion. 

Mary Margaret looked back and forth between Emma and David, "If she wants to do it, I say we help her.  Emma knows her limitations better than we do." 

The beatific smile that Emma gave him melted his heart and anything negative about her plans flew out of his head.  His job was to protect her and give her all her hearts' desires and if skating one more bloody competition was what she wanted, then that was what she was going to get.  He would be there for her every step of the journey. 

~cs~cs~cs~

Emma listened to Killian's voice as she followed him around the rink, "You're about ten feet from the side. Five feet, now turn." She turned and listened for the next measurement. 

"Follow my voice." He had moved to her left, "You're in the center now." 

"I'm going to try a jump." She sent him a quick grin as she set up, executing a single axel and landing it perfectly.   

"Whoop, Swan," he caught her in his arms, swinging her around, making her head swim and not from the motion. "That was amazing." 

Emma laughed and rolled her eyes, "It was only a single, but thanks."  Yes, it was only a single, but it helped her confidence, almost as much as he did. 

"Alright, Miss. Nolan, what's next?" He set her back down onto the ice, quickly moving back into his job of helping her with distance.   

"Watch," she called, skating away to set up another jump.  When she landed a double axel, triple lutz, she couldn't keep the squeal of excitement from escaping. 

Killian squeezed her hand, pulling her toward him, "You take my breath away, Emma." he whispered against the side of her head. 

Emma leaned back and tilted her chin up slightly, "Is that a good thing?" She lifted a brow, "or a bad thing?"

He tightened his arms, fitting her flush against his hard body, "A good thing." His hot breath blew across her lips, "A very good thing," he finished just before his lips captured hers in a kiss so hot she was sure the ice melted around them. 

~cs~cs~cs~

 Late July – Summer Championships

Emma hadn't wanted any of her rivals to know she was visually challenged and while he was holding her hand that had been alright with him. However, as soon as he let go of her and she skated onto the ice for her group's warm-up, his heart sped up and he kept feeling like he couldn't get a deep enough breath. 

"Killian," Mary Margaret squeezed his arm, "she's going to be fine." 

"But what if..." was all he got out before her music started and she began her routine.   

He couldn't take his eyes off her as she performed, her beauty and grace, completely mesmerizing him.  The arena was packed and every person appeared to be enamored with her, cheering and clapping as she skated the final steps and spun to a stop.  As one, the crowd stormed to their feet, the noise louder and more powerful than he could ever remember hearing.   

Emma took a bow to one side of the arena, then turned to bow to the other, and just before she started skating back to where he was standing, out of the corner of his eye, he saw things flying onto the ice. "Oh, no," he cried, wanting to cover his eyes at what he knew was going to happen. 

"Killian, no!" Mary Margaret's tear-stained gaze met his.  She grabbed his hand as they watched Emma's skate catch on the flower stems that littered the ice, causing her to go down onto all fours.   

One second the arena was louder than it had ever been, and the next, silence, "How could I have forgotten those?" he berated himself. 

Without waiting, Killian opened the gate and made his way across the ice to where Emma had fallen.  "I'm here, Swan.  I’m sorry we forgot the flowers." He hadn't been sure what he would see when he got there, but the gentle smile on her face certainly wasn't it.   

She put her hand in his and as he helped her onto her feet, the arena came to life.  Louder, even more so than before with everyone chanting one thing, Emma's name loud and strong.  He led her to the center of the ice to take a final bow, "Stay with me?" she whispered. 

"Always." he murmured for her ears only.  When he stepped back, the light surrounding her was so bright it could only come from inside.  His swan was free at last. 

~cs~cs~cs~

October

Emma was in that space halfway between being asleep and fully awake.  Her dreams of kissing Killian were too delicious to say goodbye to just yet, especially if it meant opening her eyes, to the blurry world she had been living with for almost six months.  Besides, today was her birthday and every girl deserved to have their birthday wishes come true. 

Her phone buzzed and without looking she knew who it was, "'Lo." she mumbled. 

"Happy Birthday, Swan." her boyfriend's sexy voice greeted her. "Ready for your gift?" 

"Hmm hmm," she hummed. 

"Good.  You've got fifteen minutes to get ready or I'm dragging you from your bed." he teased. 

"You wouldn't dare!" she squealed. 

"Try me!" he taunted before hanging up. 

His laughter ringing in her ears, Emma threw off the blankets, grabbed some clothing and ran to the shower. 

~cs~cs~cs~

Killian chuckled at how quickly the shower started after he hung up. "And you didn't think I could get her out of bed that fast." He shook his head at the look on David's face. "Oh, ye of little faith." 

David grinned, "You do have the magic touch with her." His voice became serious, "Killian, really though, I want to thank you for everything you've done for her.  I owe you a debt I'll never be able to repay." 

Killian ducked his head, thinking that someday when he asked, he knew exactly how David could repay him, for today though, he just smiled, "I'd do anything for her.  You should know that by now." 

"I'm beginning to see that." David studied him for a few seconds, "So, what's on the agenda today?" 

"A little of this, a little of that," Killian quipped, earning a frown from Emma's brother. 

"That's my sister," David began.   

Killian interrupted, listing several of the activities he had planned for them.   

"I made it." Emma ran into the room preventing any further conversation and with little fanfare, his girl was seated next to him on the bench seat of his truck and they were on their way.   

They started their day horseback riding on some mountainous trails not too far from home before taking a long walk on the beach.  From there they had lunch at Granny's where he picked up a basket containing their dinner, and then he drove them to the docks. 

"Sailing?" She looked back and forth between him and his sloop. 

Killian gave her a sheepish smile, "Do you mind?" His voice dropped an octave, "I want you to myself." 

The look she sent him doubled his heart rate, "Oh?" 

He nodded slowly, only then realizing what she said, "Wait! You saw the sloop." He cupped her face, "Can you see me?" 

Emma's eyes filled with tears as she nodded her head, "I wished it, but then with the rush this morning it didn't really register until," she shrugged, "I looked at you and didn't see shadows...I just saw you." 

"Oh, Emma." Killian thanked the fates the truck had bench seating and pulled her across his lap, covering her lips with his. She had learned a thing or two since the first time their lips connected all those years ago and as her tongue slid along his, his body was set on fire. He wanted to go on kissing her forever, but there were certainly more comfortable places for them. "Swan," he tore his mouth from hers, "you're killing me here." 

She opened her eyes, and the green orbs drew him closer until their breaths were once again mingling, but just before their lips meshed, she scrambled across the seat, "Race you." and she was off. 

Killian watched her scamper along the dock, so carefree and beautiful and before she climbed onto his boat, he had scooped her up in his arms and carried her on board.  "I've got you, Swan." 

"No," she wrapped her arms around his neck, "I've got you." 

Their kiss was much quicker than he wanted, but he was in a hurry to set sail. With a few well-placed instructions, they motored away from the dock and spent the rest of the day sailing around the bay.   

As the sun started to set, Killian dropped anchor and handed Emma her birthday gift.  "I hope you like it." 

He held his breath while she was opening it, worried that maybe he had moved too fast.  Worried that maybe he had misread what her feelings were for him.   

As soon as she opened the box, she squealed and launched herself into his arms, "I love it!" she cried peppering his cheeks with kisses. 

Killian couldn't keep the huge smile off his face, "I'm glad. I was," he hesitated, "worried, I guess." 

"Oh Killian," she sighed, "why would you worry?  You should know that I'll love whatever it is...because it's from you.  And this is beautiful," she held the necklace, its diamond-shaped heart sparkling in her hand.  "I can't believe you gave me a diamond heart." 

Killian brought her hand holding the pendant close, laying it on his chest, "It's not the first heart I've given you, love." Emma smiled at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "You've held mine far longer than I can remember.  I love you, Emma." 

"I love you too," she murmured.  "Thank you for loving me.” Her smile turned sexy, “Any suggestions on where we should go from here?" 

"Well," he twisted their bodies, taking her down onto the deck, "I have a few ideas.  Shall we start here," he gently kissed her lips, "and see where it leads?" 

"Hmm, I like how you think." was all she had time to say before he sealed their deal with a kiss...or two..or...

Emma picked up the box and turned it over, noticing that just as promised the packaging was very discreet.  “Thanks dad.” She pushed the box aside and interlaced her fingers over the paperwork, waiting for him to leave.  

Curious, he asked, “Did you order anything special?”

Quirking the side of her mouth, “Just a little housewarming gift for Killian, that’s all.”  

Picking up the box and shaking it a little, her father frowned, “A little housewarming gift?” he asked.  “Oh? Anything you care to share?”

Inwardly, Emma snickered but did her best to keep a poker face, “Not today dad.  Is that it?”

He gave her an expectant look but when she didn’t say anything, he left the office.  

Emma picked up the box and put it in the bottom drawer of her desk wondering what Killian would think of his ‘gift’.  She was already thinking of the best way to ensure he, and in turn she, were able to get the best experience possible.

~~~~

(Later that night)

Wrapped around each other, they lay on the sofa and watched the end of The Lake House on Netflix.  When the blue truck came whipping around the dirt road and Alex and Kate ran into each other’s arms and kissed, Emma nuzzled her nose into Killian’s neck and murmured, “And they lived happily ever after.”

He gave her a quizzical look.  “So, in these moving picture shows at the closing when the couple kisses, you say it’s their happily ever after?”

Clicking off the TV and tossing the remote on the table, Emma turned toward him, “Yes, that’s what they say. It allows the viewer to assume that the couple has found their happy ending.”

“Well, I don’t know love.  To me, it feels more like a beginning.” Cupping her cheek, his lips covered hers in a kiss that was tender and sensuous and very thorough. Releasing her lips, he looked toward the TV, “Are we done viewing the moving picture shows?”

Emma looked up at him and smiled shyly, “Oh, I believe I can think of a few things that might be more ‘pleasurable’. Can you?”

He responded by brushing his lips over her mouth and as she wrapped herself around him and slid her fingertips into his hair, he settled in for a nice slow kiss.  Maneuvering them around on the sofa so that he hovered over her, he allowed his right hand to roam freely over her curves.  Placing kisses from her ear to her chin, over her nose, and on each cheek, he then recaptured her mouth. He nipped at her lips before sucking and soothing the sting, soaking up the little whimpers that escaped with every new place he worshiped.  

His hand wasn’t idle while his lips were busy.  He pulled her shirt free from her pants and toyed with its tails while using his fingers to paint small circles over her hips.  He slipped his hand up under her shirt and smoothed it across the flat plains of her stomach, then let it wander higher to gently cup her breast, sliding his thumb back and forth across her nipple until it was hard.  

When he felt her fingers run through his hair he released her lips and moved across her cheek toward her earlobe.  Pulling it softly into his mouth, he nipped it with his teeth and then soothed the sting with his tongue before letting it go. He maintained contact with her and waited as she slowly opened her eyes, “Here?  Or our room?”

Smiling a little smile, as if she had a secret, Emma responded, “Definitely upstairs.  I have a gift for you.”

Raising his head up a little higher, “A gift?  For me?” He then got a far off look in his eyes, “Emma, I have never been on the receiving end of a gift.  I have nothing in return for you.”

Emma smirked at him, “Who says you have nothing for me?” Then she winked and reached down to run her hand along the front of his pants, feeling how much he was affected, not only by her nearness but by the proximity of her hand. “Well, it is for you, but I plan on enjoying it immensely.”

Raising that damn brow of his, he grinned, “Immense.  Aye.  That’s an excellent word for my assets.  Wouldn’t you agree?” he asked giving a waggle of both brows.  

She rolled off the couch and held out her hand, “Come on Captain Immense,” she giggled, “race you.”

She took off running up the stairs and after a few minutes of watching the sway of her hips, Killian took off after her.  Just as she rounded the corner to their room, he picked her up and following her down, pinned her to the bed.  Rolling his hips, he thrust against her sex letting her feel how hard he had become, “Is that my new name Swan?  Captain Immense?”

Still breathing hard from their race up the stairs, she moaned as his jutting hips hit just the right spot, “Maybe we should keep that between us, you think?”

“Aye, I can do that for you, love.  Now did you mention a gift?” He asked, his accent deeper with emotion, yet the look in his eyes, little boy glee.

“Move over Captain Immense and let me get it.” Standing up she walked to the closet but just before she disappeared, she turned back toward him, “oh and Killian?   Strip.”

Killian opened his mouth to make sure he heard her correctly but she was out of sight.  Deciding getting naked was what he had in mind anyway, he stood up to comply.

~~~~

Giggling over the look on Killian’s face when she had told him to strip, Emma reached up on the shelf where she’d hidden the package and pulled it down. Walking back into the room, she wasn’t sure what to expect, but what she saw caused her to stop and stare.  

He was standing in the glow of a bedside lamp with shadows over and around his body.  His shirt and vest had been removed first and tossed over a chair and his boots and socks sat next to it.  His belt hung open and he was in the process of sliding his pants down his legs, as he pushed them down, she couldn’t help but stare at the muscles on his back as they rippled with each movement.  He had obviously taken his boxer briefs with his jeans because as his pants were dropped, his taut ass came into view, followed by his thick thighs, lean calves and sexy feet.  

When he turned to face her, her eyes got lost in the sexy swirls of chest hair that spread over both pectoral muscles and then came together to trail down across his toned stomach to the junction of his thighs.  The black hair that surrounded his manhood was well groomed and as she continued to stare, his cock stirred to life jutting away from his body. Unconsciously Emma licked her lips and with a hooded gaze looked up into Killian’s blue eyes noticing that his pupils were blown wide with desire. As he took a step to move toward her, she met him halfway and they simultaneously reached for each other fusing their mouths together.  

Forgetting herself for a moment, she reached to put her arms around his neck and realized she was still holding his gift.  Breaking the kiss took effort but as she did, she walked them backward and gently pushed him down onto the bed before handing him the box, “Killian, for you.”

He took a few minutes to come back to himself before he took the small box with both hands and sat down on the bed.  Looking up at Emma, he smiled tenderly, “Thank you love,” he said gently before removing the paper and lifting the lid.  When he reached inside and pulled out a small plastic bag and a bottle of liquid, Emma bit her lip to keep from saying anything.  Looking up he had a quizzical expression on his face, “O Wow Vibrating Penis Ring and Strawberry Lube…” he read in a tone that belied understanding, “Swan, what in the manner [1] is all of this? Is there something you are trying to tell me?” he asked with curiosity.

After moving the box out of the way, she took one of the penis rings out of the package and handed it to him.  “It’s for us.   What do you think?”

Killian took the ring and with it hanging over his hook, held it up in front of him, “I don’t know quite what to think…does this go around Captain Immense?  Don’t you think it’s a bit small?”

Emma couldn’t help but giggle seeing her confused pirate, it made buying this “toy” all the more worth it. “Oh babe, it’s very stretchy,” she took it off his hook and showed him how it would stretch, “it will fit around your girth no problem.” She picked up the packaging and pointed to a line on it, “Look, it says for harder, longer lasting fun,” she winked.

The minute he heard that, both eyebrows almost disappeared under his hair, and he waved his hand in front of his assets, “You have issues with Captain Immense?”  He hesitated drawing his brows down into a slight frown.

Emma almost second guessed her decision to purchase the toy, but then quickly reached out and took hold of Killian’s hook and his hand and knelt at his feet.  “Oh Killian, you are perfect,” she wrapped her hand around his slightly softened length and as she slid her hand down toward the base, felt him hardening again. “This is perfect. I just overheard some girls talking about one of these a long time ago but never had anyone I wanted to experience it with, until you.  Are you willing to try it with me?”

Sighing loudly as if it was going to be some big sacrifice, he finally smiled and gave her a wink, “My body is yours Swan.” Then standing up he moved into her space, “But one of us appears to have on too many clothes.”

Emma looked down and realized she still had on her sleep pants and one of his silky pirate shirts. “Want to help me with that?” she asked with a flirty smile.

“I thought you would never ask,” he whispered as he made quick work of the buttons on the shirt with his hook, before pushing it off her shoulders and onto the floor.  

“Killian!  That was my favorite,” she pouted.

Taking a step even closer, he hooked his hand and hook in the waistband of her pants and pushed those down, cupping her ass as they fell, to pull her body flush against his.  Moving back toward the bed, he sat down bringing her nude body between his legs so he could nuzzle her lower abdomen with his lips.  

Emma grabbed handfuls of his hair and bent over kissing him on the lips, allowing the kiss to deepen and his hand free reign of her curves.  He lifted her body and twisted them so they were lying side by side on the bed and as he pulled her closer and her nipples encountered his bare chest and the soft silky skin of his cock slid against her stomach, they both groaned.

“Gods Swan, you feel so good.”

Emma hummed her agreement of the sentiment before responding, “I see Captain Immense has come out to play.”

“Oh, yes love.  Captain Immense is ready for whatever,” he pushed his cock tighter against her belly, “the lady pleases.”  Massaging down her back, he dug his fingers into her behind, before caressing her upper thighs and allowing his fingertips to dip into the cleft of her ass, provoking a shiver.  Cupping her breast, he rubbed his thumb back and forth over her nipple until it puckered and then flicked the tip of his tongue back and forth quickly before sucking it between his lips.  

Anxious to see what Killian thought of the cock rings, Emma felt behind her for the bottle of lube, and flipped open the top and drizzled some along Killian’s side.  Running her fingers through the slippery liquid, she smoothed them down over his taut derriere, digging her fingers in his firm muscles.  

Once he felt the cool, slick wetness, he let her nipple go with a pop, and lifted his head, “Strawberries?”

She ran her fingers through the slick strawberry smelling lube and painted Killian’s lips, “Mmhmm, strawberries,” she answered before covering his lips with her own.  Placing her leg over his hip, she used her momentum to push him over onto his back with her on top. They both groaned in pleasure when she lined up her wet core with his hard length and using her position to her advantage, she undulated several times over his firmness.  He gazed up at her sitting atop him and lightly ran his hook over her nipples before sliding it down the valley between, then back up and around her breasts.  "You desire to ride me, milady?” "Hi Ho Silver,” she remarked licking her lips.

“It’s very bad form to bring another man into our bedroom, Swan.”

It took Emma a moment to realize he thought she was referring to John Silver from long ago, and shaking her head clarified, “Silver is a horse, not a man.”

“Comparing Captain Immense to a horse is quite the appropriate analogy, I believe,” he smirked waggling his eyebrows at her.

“You’re a nut.”

“Tsk tsk, Darling. Let’s leave my bollocks out of the conversation, especially when there are so many other activities we can partake in while in this state of attire.”

Gifting him with a little smirk, she poured a generous amount of liquid on her palm and wiggled backward to sit on top of his hard thighs.  Rubbing her hands together she wrapped them both around his hard length and using the slickness of the lube slid her hands down and then slowly back up, pulling a tortured groan from her pirate.  Leaning over she ran her tongue around his belly button before locking her gaze with his and licking around the head of his cock, first one direction and then the other.

Reaching for her, Killian tangled his fingers in her hair, wanting, no needing, to keep her exactly where she was. Unable to stop the little lift of his hips, he was desperate for her to close those lips around him completely.  

Giving him what he wanted, Emma wrapped her lips around the crown and sucked him into her mouth. She could feel his restraint working to remain still, yet unable to render himself completely motionless.  Reaching over she chose one of the cock rings, turning it on and laying it against the base of his shaft, wrenching a longer groan.  Stretching the ring, she slipped it over the head and slid it down onto the base of his cock where she pushed the button, to hear the soft hum of the vibration.

Killian dug his hook into the bedclothes and moved his hand from her hair to take hold of the blankets, holding on to his self-control, as it was shaky, and by all appearances, she was just getting started.  “Swan, payback is a pirate’s prerogative.  You do understand that, do you not?”

“Oh Killian, I certainly hope so,” were her last words before she poured a little more lube into the center of his belly and then used her breasts to paint circles over his chest.  Allowing her nipples to slide over his, she gave him a hard kiss before starting her slide back down his body.   She tasted his neck, licking his nipples and allowing her breasts to straddle his cock on her way south.  

When her breasts cupped his cock, Killian rolled his hips grinding his dick into her body allowing her to get a taste of the vibrations from the ring.  “Emma, please.”

Glancing up at him under her lashes, “Please what Killian, you want this?” she asked just before sucking him into her mouth, his groan music to her ears.  Releasing him with a pop, “Or this?” she asked before nibbling at his balls with her teeth, licking first one and then the other.  Planning to continue her movement south she was surprised when Killian pulled her upward and latched onto her nipple.

Rolling them over, he used his lips, teeth and tongue to work over her nipples, moving from one side to the other, sucking and licking hard until they were hard, tight peaks.  Snaking his hand out, he reached for the strawberry lube and pooled a small puddle in her belly button, using his finger to trail the liquid all over her torso, licking and kissing it up with tongue and lips.  

Emma grabbed handfuls of hair, holding Killian’s lips close to her body, absorbing the sensations and allowing them to carry her higher with each scrape, lick, or kiss.  Humming in pleasure she fought to keep her eyes opened while watching his every move.   “That’s all you have Captain?”

Laughing low in his throat, Killian waited until their eyes met and picking up one of the other vibrators, ran it over and around each nipple causing the pale pink tissue around to pucker tighter and her breath to come faster.  Using his tongue, he licked his way down and around her belly button, catching some more of the lube with the vibrator and touched it gently to her already swollen clit, causing her to arch her whole body off the bed, before loosening her hold on his hair and anchoring herself to the bed with handfuls of the bedding.  

Maintaining eye contact, Killian continued stimulating her clit with the vibrator and bent to add an assault to her core with his lips and tongue.  Running his tongue from core to her clit, he alternated between little licks and firm sucks, listening as her breathing came faster and her body clenched tighter around his tongue, waiting for her to come undone.  

Emma ground her sex into his face as he continued to suck causing her to feel like she was going to fly any second. The longer he sucked and the more the vibrator stimulated her, the harder her thigh muscles quivered and the greater the sensation grew until she came hard and fast riding the wave as her body finally settled, boneless on the bed.  

Killian moved over her kissing and petting until her breathing slowed, “Ready for that ride on Captain Immense, Love?”

Emma giggled and wiggled around until she straddled his hips and the cock ring that was still vibrating moved against her core, readying her for what came next.  Slowly – ever so slowly, she took him inside letting her body stretch around his.  Once he was fully seated and started moving, the vibrator hit her clit with every thrust until she felt the pressure to let go start to climb all over again.  It was good -oh so good that she didn’t want to give in, but suddenly the walls of her core fluttered around him and with a tiny scream she shattered into many pieces.

Killian felt the walls of her core clinch and suck at his shaft so tightly that his control left him completely. It could no longer be contained. His release shot out of his cock so hard he saw stars, leaving him with the knowledge that nothing had ever been so good in his life.

Wrapping his arms around the woman he loved more than life itself, he held on tightly as she shuddered in the aftermath, before finally feeling her body calm and her core release its strong hold on his body.  

Once the peak subsided and their breathing had returned to some semblance of normal, Killian rolled Emma next to him and tucked her close.  Peeling the ring off his softening shaft, he held it up to her, “It’s quite the amazing device we have here in our possession.  Where did you procure such an object?”

Taking the ring from him, Emma laid it on the nightstand and opened the bottom drawer pulling out the latest Adam & Eve catalog to hand to Killian.

Together they flipped through the pages until he pointed at one of the items, “So Swan, if one wished to obtain one of these, how would one go about this?  Shall I ask your father or your boy to show me?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “You wouldn’t dare.”

Killian raised his brow, “You know I do so love a challenge.  Wouldn’t I?” and chuckled lowly

She huffed in disapproval, “I guess you give me no choice.  Remind me tomorrow and I’ll show you how you can procure that, but I won’t wear it, you know.”  

Propping himself up to get a better look at her, he ran his tongue along his bottom lip, “Shall we make a wager on that?

To be continued…….

Tagging a few friends who might be able to enjoy the story.