#solosprincess

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.

–

They're both good...I think left looks sharper but right has more of a glowing look

lightwoods-and-waylands replied to your photoset “which sharpening action do you think looks best?”

the second one :D

spockulative replied to your photoset “which sharpening action do you think looks best?”

the right hand one!

solosprincess replied to your photoset “which sharpening action do you think looks best?”

I like the first, but the second looks lovely too!

swanemma replied to your photoset “which sharpening action do you think looks best?”

2! :))

noorasaetlre replied to your photoset “which sharpening action do you think looks best?”

the second one ;)

swannsavior replied to your photoset “which sharpening action do you think looks best?”

Second in my opinion! :)

And then she panicked. Well, sort of. Emma Swan did not do panicked. Concerned? Yes. Stressed? Yes. But panicked? Not really. It was more like just being irritable than actually upset. That phone was the latest update - she thinks. Who can tell anymore? It was her promotion gift to herself. A bails bonds person needed a phone that actually worked. Therefore she got herself that phone. And now she lost it.

She tried to remember where exactly she may have lost it. If it was at a store or restaurant, getting it back shouldn't be too big of an issue. But if it was on the streets or public transportation, she was screwed. She would never see that thing again. And that's the exact moment she realized that she did indeed leave it on public transportation. The train to be precise. A New York City train. Yeah, she was never going to see it again.

"Call it," her best friend/mother-like figure, Mary Margaret Nolan, said later that night. Mary Margaret and her husband David lived right below Emma in their apartment building. David and Emma actually met first - Emma was applying for a job at the local animal shelter and David took her application. He saw her address and the rest as they say is history. Now all three of them were within in the same age bracket, but Mary Margaret and David took care of Emma like she was their daughter. Maybe it was because Mary Margaret and David want children so badly and they see something in Emma that calls out to them. Or maybe because Emma never really had a family and likes the idea of being wanted. Either way, the three of them made a very unusual family. Not that it bothered any of them.

"What do you mean 'Call it'?" Emma asked.

Mary Margaret placed a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream and a dash of cinnamon in front of Emma. "Call your phone to see if someone answers."

"Don't you have that locate my phone app?" David asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Probably," Emma replied. "I don't know if I ever set it up." David groaned out Emma's name. "Don't patronize me," she said. "You know that I know enough technology to do my job. Anything more than that is foreign to me."

"That's why you should call it." Mary Margaret grabbed her phone before unlocking it and handing it to Emma. "See if someone found it and would be willing to set up a meeting with you. To get your phone back."

Emma took the phone and pressed the contacts app and scrolled down until she got to her name. With a sigh, Emma hit her name before the screen changed to the one used while making a phone call. It rang four times before she heard someone pick up and say, "Hello?"

"Hello?"

"Who's this?"

"The owner of the phone your using," Emma replied.

"Ah! Okay, hello love. Yes, it seems I found your phone today on the train. I was figuring out how to return it to you." The voice was definitely masculine. And British. A British guy found her phone. This seemed like an article for Buzzfeed to write.

"Yes, I would like my phone back. So can you send it to me?"

"That's not a good idea," David piped up. "Could get lost in the postal offices and then you're going to have a bigger issue."

"He's right," Mary Margaret agreed. "It's Christmas time, and the postal office could very well lose it."

Emma sighed. Turning back to the phone, she continued, "Okay, so apparently sending it to me is not a good idea. Can we meet up sometime soon?"

"Er," was not the promising answer she wanted to hear in response, but unfortunately that was exactly what she got. "Luv, I would like to, but unfortunately I'm leaving town for work in the morning. I'll be gone three days. I'll be home on Christmas Eve."

"Are you kidding? Right about right now?"

"I'm in Montauk,"  he replied. Montauk was a good two to three hours away from where she currently was. And it was already nine o'clock at night. Even if they met halfway, it would be too exhausting of a trip.

She sighed and rubbed her head. "Fine," she finally replied. "Three days time. We'll meet on Christmas Eve and then you'll give me my phone back."

"How do I know it's your phone?"

"What?"

"Well, how can I be certain that you are the owner of this phone?"

"Because it is!"

"Details, love. Give me details."

Emma scrunched up her face trying to remember the details of her phone. "It's an iPhone 6. The lock screen wallpaper is of myself and my best friends wearing reindeer antlers--"

"Are you the blonde or the black-haired?"

"Excuse me?"

"In the photo. Are you the blonde of the black-haired?"

Emma pulled the phone away to look at it for a second, like she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. Putting it back to her ear, she said, "The blonde. Does it matter?"

"Well, it will when we're meeting. I want to know if I'm giving it to the right person. Plus, you're very pretty."

"Don't flirt with me. Seriously, mate, all I want if my phone back."

"Fine, fine. Should I call you on this number...Mary Margaret Nolan?"

She sighed. He must of read her name when it appeared on the screen. "No, this is my friend's phone. I'll get a disposable phone to use in the meantime. I'll contact you when I get that phone."

"Got it. I'm Killian, by the way. Killian Jones."

"Emma Swan. I'll be in contact soon."

"Waiting with baited breath, Emma."

 ~*~

 The next morning Emma got a disposable phone and called her own phone to contact that Jones person. He didn't pick up, so she just left a message stating that if she gets any phone calls or messages, to call her immediately on this number.

About an hour later, her phone binged. Her phone number appeared.

 Am I your secretary now?

 U are as long as u keep my phone.

 You got a message from someone named Leo? They said to call them back. (PS - I may have called myself your personal secretary. Leo did not sound pleased.)

 Thats cause hes my boss. Thanx. Ill call him back.

 ~*~

 That's how it continued. Killian would message that she got a phone call (usually from Leo) or a message. Later that night, he messaged:

 Who's Walsh?

 Why?

 Because he's messaged four times. I didn't read the messages, but I see his name.

 Wait, make that five times.

 he's an ex. Took the break up hard.

 I can tell. He messaged again.

 What did he say?

 Killian took a screenshot of the messages Walsh sent and sent them to Emma. They were basically along the lines of "take me back." Which wasn't going to happen. He wanted to sleep with his boss, fine. But he wasn't going to do it while dating Emma.

Emma had no intention of messaging or calling him back. Walsh was over and done with. She simply thanked Killian for letting her know and went back to watching crappy holiday movies that sucked Emma in no matter how hard she resisted.

Figuring that was the end of the discussion, Emma was somewhat surprised when her phone binged again.

 Doing anything interesting for Christmas?

 Emma hated small-talk. It was like a weakness of hers. She rather get into a discussion about a certain topic. Plus, she didn't know this Killian guy at all. So she wasn't going to give him personal information.

 Yeah, I'm going to cruise up to the North Pole and hang out with Santa. You?

 She wondered if it sounded a bit snarky. But before she could think much of it, she got a reply.

 How funny. Mrs. Claus invited me up to the North Pole. Apparently Santa sleeps all day and she gets lonely. Perhaps I'll meet you there?

 Laughing at his ridiculous comeback,  Emma replied, Then I can get my phone back.

 But how we will keep our stimulating conversations going?

 By u using ur messaging service instead of mine.

 Touché, darling, touché.

 ~*~

 The thing with Killian was that he somehow sucked her into conversations, and she had  no idea how he did that. He got her to tell him that Christmases in the past have more often than not been a bust. That she really wishes she had a dog. Her favorite drink is hot chocolate, no matter what time of year it was. She loved Love Actually and watched it without fail for the past three Christmases. But she also learned about him. He had a brother in Montauk, whom was married with one child. He's from London, but has lived in New York for the past five years. His favorite drink is rum, though hot buttered-rum is delicious on a cold New York night. And that Christmas is his favorite time of year, even though he too had a very tough childhood.

 Before she knew it, really, it was Christmas Eve morning and Killian was asking where did she want to meet.

 I'll be coming into Penn Station by five o'clock.

 Wanna meet by Bryant Park? Its not too far from penn

 Yeah, okay.

 I have to admit I'm going to miss this conversations.

 She didn't want to admit that she would too. There was something about Killian, something almost familiar. If she didn't know any better, it felt like they had met once. The romantic that Mary Margaret was would state that they must have met once upon a dream. Or perhaps, they were soulmates, destined to find each other. Emma didn't believe in either of those things, but...Well, sometimes it was fun to pretend. Even for a little while. Not that she thought Killian was her soulmate or whatever. But it was nice to talk to him as though they have known each other longer than three days.

However, because it's Emma, she had to point out the obvious.

 We can still talk to each other. We don't need to stop. Unless you want to.

 I don't.

 There we go. We will continue when i get my phone. you do have a phone of your own dont you?

 Yes, but it's not as fancy as yours. :)

 Mine is not fancy. it's a gift to myself.

 For Christmas?

 For a job well done. I got it because i got  promoted.

 Well, congrats!

 Thank you.  

 They were both silent before her phone binged again.

 What are you doing tonight?

 Are you asking me out on Christmas Eve?

 ...Kind of.

 I can't. I have a party to go to.

 Of course.

 Totally understand.

 Stupid idea, really. Don't know what made me do it. Other than it's Christmas, and according to all the Christmas movies, it's either now or never.

 It's not that I dont WANT to go out. Its that i CANT.

 Unless you want to come to the party with me?

 He was silent for so long Emma was terrified that he either broke her phone or just wanted to ignore that last text all together. Finally, she got a message.

 I'm not dressed for a party. Don't even have on my ugly Christmas sweater. And it's ugly.

 Like supper ugly. Got awards for it because it was so ugly.

 Emma smiled before she wrote back. I say party, I mean a get-together. It's my best friends' party.

 Ah. I would love to.

 Great! When will you be arriving in Penn?

 About 20 minutes. You at Bryant Park?

 Yep. I'm the blonde in the red jacket.  

 I'm the black-haired man without an ugly Christmas sweater.

 Shame. I'll never be able to find you :)

 Don't worry, Miss Swan. I wouldn't miss you. Remember, I know what you look like.

 That is true.

 By the way I need a picture of you in that ugly christmas sweater.

 Soon, darling. Soon.

 ~*~

 Emma was pacing in front of the tree in Bryant Park. She stopped to look down at her phone when she felt someone tap her on her shoulder. She spun around to see what had to be the most handsome man she had ever met right behind her. He had raven black hair and bright blue eyes. He was taller than her, by a good couple of inches. He wore a easy-fitting leather jacket with dark colored jeans and black boots. On his cheek was a small scar. She had to stop herself from tracing the scar gently with her fingertips.

"Swan," he said with a gentle smile.

"Killian," she replied, a smile of her own gracing her lips.

They just looked at each other for a couple of minutes before Killian literally shook his head and reached into his coat pocket. When he stretched his hand out, she saw her phone.

She looked up at him. "Thank you."

He nodded before saying with confidence he probably didn't feel, "I put my phone number in it. You know, in case."

She grinned. "In case we lose each other at this get together?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

She nodded too before smiling back up at him. "You know, I need to thank you for everything you did. Being my personal secretary could not have been easy, especially at this time of year."

"Oh, the amount of work was insane," he replied jokingly.

"I owe you a cup of hot chocolate."

He grinned and Emma swore in her head. She wasn't one that melted when a pretty boy looked her way. But Killian...

"I would love some."

Nodding, she turned and indicated for him to follow. "I know the perfect place that sells the best hot chocolate."