#cssv17gift

When Emma had entered the diner that morning, she hadn't expected to meet the love of her life. The morning hadn't been any different to the last hundred mornings. She'd passed the same people on the street, run into Ruby Lucas with yet another new boyfriend, and met the same best friend on the pavement outside the milkshake bar.

Emma had met Mary-Margaret in that same spot a year ago when she had seen her flailing in a confrontation with Regina Mills, the daughter of the mayor. Mary-Margaret was a quiet girl, desperate to please everyone, so it was clear that confrontation wasn't her strong suit. Emma, on the other hand, didn't mind one bit.

How they had managed to become friends, Emma had no idea.

“Morning, Emma!” the woman chirped, running her hands down the front of her blue shirtwaist dress to smooth out the invisible wrinkles in the light fabric. Emma smiled at her friend, her perpetual cheeriness infectious.

“Hey there, doll!” she replied, threading her arm through the girl’s as she reached her. They walked towards the diner, steps almost in sync from the months of routine. A bell chimed as the entered Granny's, the smooth tones of Bing Crosby floating around the room. Emma watched the hustle and bustle as her eyes landed back on her friend.

Or more importantly, where her eyes were looking. Following her gaze, Emma found a handsome man sitting at a table near a window, the morning sun bouncing off his close cropped blond hair. A blue collared shirt brought out the blue of his eyes. He sat with his head buried in the morning's paper, slowly spooning oatmeal up to his mouth. Emma rolled her eyes and pulled her friend to the bar stools.

“Wanna carry that torch any higher, Mary-Margaret?” she whispered, her friend quickly snapping her eyes away. Her cheeks flushed as she looked down to the table. “Oh, Emma, can you blame me? He's just dish, don't you think?”

Emma let out a chuckle before shaking her head. “Calm down, eager beaver. You don't even know him.”

She watched as her friend's eyes flicked over her shoulder to catch another look at the man. “Yet.” She countered, a wide smile on her face as she called out to Granny to order.

It was then that Emma's morning started to change. She felt a knock at her elbow first, turning to find a man pushing and shoving his way to the stool next to hers. He was at least five years older than her and reeked of alcohol.

“Coffee thanks, baby-doll,” he ordered, winking at the woman behind the counter. Emma's eyes narrowed slightly but turned once again to face Mary-Margaret.

“I'm gonna go over there,” her friend exclaimed. Without waiting for an answer, she hopped off her stool and sat down opposite the man. Left alone at the counter, Emma looked forwards, peaking at the man next to her out of the corner of her eye.

He wore a dirtied zoot suit, clearly from the night before. His eyes were red and bloodshot, and if the slurred voice was any indication, Emma was certain he was still feeling the effects.

“What do ya think you're looking at gorgeous?” he said, voice deep and raspy. Emma instantly felt unsure as the man looked over at her. His gaze was full of suggestion and confidence, the tone filling her with anxiety and a sense of discomfort. “Name's Neal.” He prompted, if only to end the silence she had replied with.

“That's swell.” She finally responded, eyes staying front and her voice calm. She subconsciously noticed a figure slip onto the stool on her other side but didn't take much notice. The man, Neal, snorted and leant his body towards her shoulder.

“Ease up, dolly. What's the harm in a little chat?”

Emma twisted in her seat in a desperate attempt to find Mary-Margaret, finding her chatting happily with her new friend. Letting out a soft sigh, she turned back to Neal, letting her face form into a calm mask.

“No harm, just not interested,” she said, voice definitive. Not seeming to take no for an answer, he only leant further towards her.

Just as he was about to speak and Emma was about to run, she felt an arm come around her shoulder. Then came a crisp British accent.

“Get lost, mate. She said no.” Emma jumped and spun around on her stool, catching her breath as she put a face to the voice.

The man had jet black hair that hung a little too much over his eyes, though it was just short enough for the bright blue of his eyes to shine through. His cheekbone was peppered with ginger-y stubble, lining what would have been a graceful jaw in any other circumstances.

His jaw was set in a hard clench, so hard Emma swore she could hear his teeth grinding. He maintained a piercing gaze at Neal.

It only took seconds for Neal to break his stare.

“Who do you think you are, buddy?” He asked, his alcoholic breath passing over Emma as the two men spoke across her. She felt the stranger’s arm tighten around her and before she had any chance to guess his answer, he spoke.

“She's my gal, mate.”

Emma had to refrain herself from going wide eyed, willing to agree to anything that would get her out of Neal's sight. She heard the sounds Sinatra come over the radio as she grit her teeth and played along.

“That's right, baby,” she replied, attempting to sound as tragic and romantic as she could. Emma locked eyes with the stranger and had no time to prepare herself for his next move.

Before she could blink, she was kissing this stranger.

It didn't take her long to react. This guy knew how to kiss.

When they broke apart, both slightly short of breath, Emma turned to see Neal's back as he huffed out of the diner. Letting out a breath and taking a sip of her drink, she turned back to the man now sitting next to her.

“Hi there.” The bluntness in his voice was humourous after their encounter. Emma let out a laugh, one he echoed. He reached out his hand towards her. “Killian Jones, by the way love.”

Emma smiled and took his hand, ready to respond as he raised her hand towards his lips. Mouth forming an 'o', Emma stared at the man sitting there.

Killian. She thought.

“Aren't you a gentleman, mister.” She replied quickly, “Emma. Emma Swan.” Killian tilted his head and smiled. Not just a polite smile, but a grin. Emma noticed not for the first time how handsome he was. “Thank you, for that by the way.” She continued, gesturing flippantly at where Neal had once sat, “Guess you're my saviour.”

Killian let out a chuckle and bashfully looked towards the ground. “Don't mention it, doll. Looked like you were in a tad of strife there.”

Emma furrowed her brow and shook her head indignantly. “I had the whole thing completely under control.”

She hoped she sounded more convincing than she thought she did. Killian, ever the gentleman, threw up his hand in surrender. They both looked up at each other, smiles wide on their faces, content in the silence.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEE” Emma moved to cover her ears as Mary-Margaret bounced over to her, tears of happiness threatening to spill. “Emma, Emma, Emma, you'll never guess what just happened! So I was talking to David, that's his name by the way, about the best dive to grab a cuppa when he mentioned The Rabbit Hole, and I, as you know, just think that place is just swell, so I told him that, I said “That's my favourite.” and just like that, he invited me with him! Isn't it just....” She trailed off as her eyes flicked over to Killian as if only just noticing his presence, “Oh...” she said taking a little step back as Emma rolled her eyes, expecting what was going to come next.

“Well it is not every day I see you in here flirting with anyone, let alone someone like this fine looking gentleman here.”

Emma opened her mouth to protest, but Killian beat her to it. “I'm Killian Jones, ma'am. That's very kind of you...”

“Mary-Margaret.” Her friend supplied. Killian put on his best smile and Emma could have sworn she saw hearts in Mary-Margaret's eyes. Emma could practically see the lightbulb appear above her head. “I just have the greatest idea. The two of you should come along! We'll make it a double date! Oh, that would be just heaven.”

Emma shot a quick look at Killian in an attempt to gauge his reaction. All she saw was a bright smile and eager eyes. “I'd be delighted lass. What'd you say, Swan?”

Looking between Mary-Margaret's pleading eyes and Killian's blue ones, she only saw one option.

Letting out a deep sigh, Emma threw her hands in the air and reached for her drink once more. “Alrighty then. Double date it is. But it better be a fine place.”

Mary-Margaret clapped her hands and Killian smiled, moving to take a sip from the cup in front of him. Holding the cup up to his lips, he wiggled his eyebrows at Emma, a one sided smirk forming on her face.

Maybe this wouldn't be as unbearable as it seemed.

–

Emma ran her hands down the front of her dress, looking into the mirror on the wall in front of her. She wore a red dress, black polka dots placed randomly over the fabric. Her hair was pinned up on top of her head, courtesy of Mary-Margaret. Letting out a deep breath she took a final look in the mirror and walked out to find her friend perched on the edge of the sofa.

“Don't you look swish, Ems!” Mary-Margaret exclaimed, rising from the couch to tuck a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “You ready to go?” she asked, practically jumping out of her shoes with excitement. Placing a calming hand on her friend's shoulder, Emma looked around the room for her purse and made her way towards the door. “Yeah,” she started, pulling the door open, “let's do this thing.”

Mary-Margaret clapped her hands and bounced out of the apartment.

The Rabbit Hole wasn't far from Emma's place. A blessing really, because Emma didn't think she had it in her to walk a far distance in her heels. They rounded the corner where the cafe resided and almost ran right into Killian and David.

“Hey there pretty ladies.” David said, reaching out to give Mary-Margaret a kiss on the cheek.

Emma was getting ready to catch her if she decided to swoon. Killian copied David's move, this time on Emma's cheek. She felt her cheeks go red and gave him a smile as he pulled away, one that he mirrored instantly.

Each man pulled their lady's arm through theirs and lead them into the cosy place. Emma couldn't help but sneak glances at Killian, dashing in a handsome suit and tie. His hair was still a little tousled, as if he'd been running his fingers through it. When they got to a table, he pulled her chair out and helped her in.

Yep, she thought, definitely a gentleman.

David and Mary-Margaret hit it off right away, flirting and chatting in no time. They moved away from the table, making their way towards a more private booth, leaving Emma and Killian to talk.

“So tell me doll,” Killian begun, taking a sip from his cup, “what's your story?” Emma raised her eyebrows in response, putting down her own drink to answer. “Nothing special really.” She insisted, “I grew up in group homes until I was old enough to live on my own, then after a few years I moved here.” As she finished speaking, a thought popped into her head. “Speaking of, when did you move into town, sweet cheeks?”

Killian blushed and ducked his head down towards his drink. “Only recently, love. My brother passed away a few months ago. Needed to get away, if you catch my meaning.” He spoke quietly though there was no-one around to hear. Emma saw the pain in his eyes, suddenly cursing herself for asking.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered softly, reaching across the table to put her hand on top of his. He looked up from his drink and let his eyes fall on their hands. She knew what he felt. The spark that had run through the both of them, similar to the feeling that Emma had been denying since their meeting at the diner the day before.They both looked up at each other and smiled, Killian shaking his head slowly.

“It's no matter. You couldn't have known. Besides,” He moved his hand to lace his fingers through hers, “I think I'm starting to like it here.”

Now it was Emma's turn to blush. The loaded stare suddenly too much, Emma looked away, finding David and Mary-Margaret over at the jukebox in the corner of the room. Just as she was about to look away, her friend met her gaze, giving her a cheeky grin and a thumbs up. Emma, initially confused, eventually recognised the song.

“Hey, listen.” Killian said, holding up a finger. Emma, attempting to seem oblivious, raised her eyebrows and put what she hoped was a confused look on her face. “It's our song.”

Emma snorted. “We do not have a song.” She countered, Killian narrowed his eyes in defiance.

“I beg to differ, Swan. Sinatra was playing when we first met.” Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Yeah, that was not the most typical meeting was it?”

“Or the most typical first kiss.” Killian added with a wink, prompting a laugh from Emma. It was only seconds later that Killian moved his seat back and walked to her side holding out a hand.

“Come and dance,” he insisted. Before Emma could resist, Killian only interrupted. “Don't think of an excuse or a way out. Just do it, doll.”

She did. She just did. She stood up and took Killian's hand. He led her to the centre of the room, where, much to Emma's embarrassment, no one else was dancing. She shot a look over at Mary-Margaret and David, obviously thinking it fun to try and play matchmaker before Killian turned and placed both arms around her waist. Emma took her position, wrapping both arms around his neck and the pair started to sway on the spot.

Emma didn't want to admit it, but it was nice. She felt happy, safe like this. Killian started humming along to the song in her ear. Not that she minded; she was too lost in the moment. She didn't notice when David and Mary-Margaret joined them, nor that an hour later, they had quite literally danced the night away.

Mary-Margaret, determined to join Emma back at her place, insisted that David and Killian walk them back. They both happily agreed, and as they made their way through the doors, Killian shyly reached down to take Emma's hand as they walked. She let him, the warm feeling spreading through her body. It wasn't long before she had to let go. The four of them stopped outside the apartment door, an awkward silence spreading across the four of them.

“David,” Mary-Margaret exclaimed, “Would you be so kind as to join me inside?” Emma gave her friend a thankful look. “Sure thing baby doll.” David replied, following her into the room. Killian stayed by Emma's side, waiting patiently for her to say something. She took the hint.

“So,” she began once the door had closed, moving half a step closer to him, “I guess the double date wasn't too bad.” Killian took the same little step forward until they were breathing the same air.

“No, I suppose it wasn't.” He had his signature smirk on his face, lifting up on one side. “Thank you for coming. Thank your friend for me too, for inviting me.” Emma bit her lip and nodded slowly, smiling softly.

They looked into each other's eyes, quiet settling over them. Before she knew it, they were both moving, leaning closer, closer in before their lips finally touched.

If the rushed, out-of-the-blue kiss from the previous day had been good, this one was something different entirely. Emma felt herself melt into the kiss, her arms slowly but surely making their way around his waist. She felt his hand reach up to cup her cheek, both of them moving in perfect sync.

They pulled away reluctantly, both breathing heavily, foreheads pressed together.

“I guess I'll see you later then, love?” he whispered, unwilling to break the moment. Emma simply nodded, pulling away further to lean against the door at her back. “Goodnight, Emma.” He said as he turned and made his way out of the building.

“Bye.” Emma whispered, long after he was already gone. In an attempt to collect herself, she stayed where she was for a few minutes, her breathing slowing. She pushed herself off the door and turned to make her way back into the apartment.

As she made her way to her room, saying a quick goodnight to David and Mary-Margaret, she heard music playing from outside the window. Pulling it aside, she looked down to find Killian standing beneath it, Sinatra pouring out of a radio.

“Is it safe to call this our song now?” he yelled up, his blue eyes still visible from this height. Emma let out a laugh and buried her head in her hands.

“Whatever you say, babe!” She shouted back, “I'll see you tomorrow.” With a smile, she pulled her head back inside the window and collapsed on her bed, trying to make sense of the last 42 hours.

No, she thought, don't make sense of it. Let it be.

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