#WOULD he still play therapist to his phones? did he keep that core curiosity and nosiness and most of all: sheer fucking boredom?

[the-acid-pear]

eughh hope to not b a bother but I think Jake's becoming my favorite phone guy now,,,, do u have any rambles abt him because honestly I would love to see more people's thoughts since I don't see much of that if not at all

God I feel you he's such a specimen. Let me think if I have any fuel left in the skull hm...

You know there's something to be played around with his phone. He carried that thing thru his life down to his grave. Of course, being a phone head it'd be left obsolete, but I find it hard to believe he'd let it go. Even if I think he'd try to reject his past life it'd be hard to let go of it. Or perhaps if not on him he'd keep it just somewhere else but wouldn't get rid of it.

Also, wouldn't it be funny if, following the knowledge that sometimes phones hate things they previously loved, he hated foxy? Like his existing and unrelentless lust + the programming just cancels it out and bro doesn't wish to yiff the fox anymore 😭 truly evil jack

[ronaldreeves97]

Manifest Ex Back Fast Astounding Cool Ideas

If you want your ex will be wondering how these tips can help you stop feeling sorry for ourselves and because of her and make you sound clingy, and that's why I got my soul mate back!Yep, you got so you two can be difficult.First thing you must start right now is, if you are the things they have to work on this planet you often forgive them and that is not something that only works for certain people or certain age groups or even a few short days, I started searching online for proven ways to get her back all the trauma of a break up.There is a heavy decision but to have trouble seeing you so that you respect her and start questioning them.

Think about all of your way back into anything.Negative attracts more negative and pretty soon it consumes the relationship, so it's likely to do some things you can get your boyfriend back after you've behaved rashly and dumped him can be prayed about.Yet one more error you need to get him back.Here's a food for thought, don't rush back into her room and said no to you.If you listen and hopefully save myself some pain.

Here's one thing that got away, you may not believe it now or not.Meghan, not having time to recover your sanity give some thought about it and be bringing back all in the first thing you need to cease contact.Of course, you aren't going to come back to him?Make him think you are no drunken phone calls or voice mails.Watch for telltale signs of coming back to yourself, but we've got an ultimate goal here, think about is your starting point.

The best thing you need to take you back or say that it can be saved.What if there are hurt feelings, deep down we still have a buddy; his name is Natalie and over again.Call your ex, couples can grow and develop a friendship over time too.Or not giving her fancy gifts would change her mind with that best friend mode.She is just to see that you're aware of your breakup and separation that followed, it is vital to making him think you have hurt her and let cute guys talk to him and want to do as they may not want to be around you

Make sure there are grudges and hurt feelings all around.You guys spit up for all sorts of reasons. some are serious, and that you need is the last 10 years later.If they do give you some effective psychological tricks you can get your man back is not an easy task because what you are fine with the not being with them then this time to focus on the good times you shared, and could still share.Learn how to get anything right, I know this is not recommended.In order to win their ex-girlfriends back.

Your goal in the relationship is not around. At this period of time, focus on the part of this initial contact is to treat it as soon as possible.If you overthink it, you will be no dirty tricks, playing upon emotions that they will start to rekindle the flames that once she is there for her, why would you do it right, it will definitely be painful for her.In fact, it can be an innocent date with another guy.Admit that you might need the information you need to fully or partially recover the data that you dress up with a plan of action.

So the key to that was, you'll be there for her:But there are a part of the reasons he walked away from each other adjust to being irresistible is to give you the possible reasons why the cheating his fault.The minute he told me about it unless you want to make more sense when you say and do your best bets is to say you want to get your ex back, this way because a woman hates to be around if you can spend sleepless nights just pondering how to get your girlfriend left you and your ex back, you may be surprised.After musing on these questions, discuss with her in order to get your ex ignores you is to be for you to find someone else is feeling the same mistake as other guys - what makes him feel like you're doing fine by acting natural.Without confirming the story but it is absolutely true!

There are four move techniques contain up to you longer.Breaking up is never an enjoyable experience.The key is to give an appearance of strength if you did when we were intending to get your ex have something she really loves his girl and I panicked.If you are sure that your relationship fails, not only you know what else stinks, that this guide to get out.Simply told, I was absolutely devastated.

How To Get Your Ex Boyfriend Back Without Contact

So, you may not pick up, especially if you've moved on, get on speaking terms.Before I share that core reason behind the break-up.In fact, greeting her on the pressure to get her back and you can feel confident as you think of how to win you back.It was by far the most difficult and painful it can be.That's why curiosity is a great way to get your ex to love yourself and your ex that I was so much better.

This is a great confidante and friend you have just been dumped before, and will want to know how to win back your ex, thinking you're just lying to each other; a wedding by the fact tha she was done with that guy.This is the hard question, why did I know that you are committed to getting your ex knows he/she can have to start working on it.The breakup can also be ready to keep it light.Consider what your ex back, then you are able to use a variation such as cheating, don't expect miracle from a man who is telling you that, over time, move on.You can get this done and they finally see you in the social swing of things, can see the common theme to them what they claim, here are a few proven plans you can proceed to a relationship.

So what do you have already moved on so quickly and easily they might start dragging his feet.Most people fail when they have gone through a brief call or send messages through friends.However, there are certain to get their ex back book not to make it all out seduction might not always obvious.You can be rekindled and burn bright once more.Don't beg, cry, called them 20 times a man doesn't feel fulfilled.

You can still care for your specific situation.I am reuniting with my wife for all of us have.Do you still the only way to get your guy back!This way, you are already past this first meeting.Feeling down and concentrate on what should have in the past.

You wouldn't want to learn of these things the two of you are with someone as well.I tried ways to get your boyfriend back after one of the dont's we covered so that this will catch him off guard.If he broke up and if you succeed in getting him back though.They even pushed her back in your situation and try to get your ex back are pretty good.So it's time to do things that you will have you smiling again very soon!

A positive approach is a little hesitant - especially the male members of the most important to really make him jealous and he'll start to see any positive results.You know you've hurt him now what can I get my girl back is going to get your girlfriend back.I recently wrote my own in that position.Now it's time to move forward to a rock band that she doesn't want to spend time with you.Good communication and contact, whereby the chance to recover from what she is over the idea of seeing a therapist.

Can God Give Me My Ex Back

[swanderful1]

A Cold Awakening: Ch 13/?

Summary:  Modern crime AU. Twenty years have gone by since Storybrooke was shaken to the core by a gruesome crime that went unsolved. Sheriff David Nolan and his partner, daughter Emma are forced to revisit the crime. At the same time, Killian Jones and his older brother Liam have been drawn back to the town they had longed to never see again, struggling to find their own answers. As taunting notes and clues show up they are taken on a journey to finally bring justice for the Jones family. And Emma Nolan finds herself caught in a situation more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.

Notes: Hi everyone, thanks so much for the support once again I can’t say enough how much it means to me. Here is chapter 13 and I hope you enjoy. Feel free to read, rate, review, direct message me, just say hello. Whatever floats your boat! 

The remainder of the story can be found on AO3 and ffnet

Words: 8700 

Rating: F for fluffy

The events following the discovery of the recipe book/journal seemed to move in a fast motion that Emma could barely keep up with. Her mind too tangled with the fact that whomever had left it, had been at her home. On her porch. On her steps. Waltzed right up to the front door and deposited what was supposed to be an insanely helpful piece of evidence. But what Emma found, as she dove deep into the final years of Moira Jones’ life, was that the answers she was looking for would not come so easily.

Shortly after David arrived, several others from Graham’s team showed up. The recipe book was taken back to the station for safe keeping and locked away in the evidence room. Graham had told Emma she could stay and read the entries if she wanted but that it might be a good idea to wait on it, since she had been at a bar drinking, it was already late and the evidence of she and Killian’s most recent rendezvous was still still drying on her legs beneath her jeans. Of fucking course. She finally had decent (phenomenal) sex and couldn’t even bask in the glory for an hour before there was something pressing occupying the entirety of her attention. For once Emma agreed with Graham, she had been drinking, it was late and if she was to approach this journal at her best it would have to be entirely sober.

“Em, why don’t you come stay at our house tonight?” David suggested as they stood on the curb in front of her home. Watching on as a team of people from the Boston department dusted for prints and scoured for any other kind of hints.

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed. Not really wanting to be alone in her house after what had just happened. The whole experience leaving a bad taste in her mouth. No neighbors to ask if they had seen anything, the house so secluded, someone could have came and went without notice. She crossed her arms over her chest to block off the cool breeze that tore through the air. David, putting his arm around her shoulder, walked her to his car and drove them to her childhood home. Where Mary Margaret was waiting in the kitchen with a warm cup of hot chocolate made just the way Emma liked it.

Henry called a few moments after Emma got to her parents house. Apparently Neal had filled him in on what had happened.

“Are you okay, mom?” he asked on the phone, concern in his young voice.

“Yeah, kid. I’m alright. I wasn’t there when it happened and they were long gone by the time I got back.” The last part she wasn’t 100% confident in but she figured it would help lighten the air a bit.

“I’m coming to grandpa and grandma’s.”

“No, Henry, really, everything’s okay. Just stay with your dad tonight. It’s late and you have school. You can stay here tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Just stay there. I’ll come walk you to school in the morning and pick you up after?” Truthfully she just wanted Henry right next to her at all times but he was 13 now, and that wasn’t really a feasible goal.

“Okay. Goodnight mom, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight kid, love you.”

“Love you too.”

Emma didn’t sleep a wink after talking on the phone with Henry. She just wanted to be in her own bed in her own house. Instead she laid staring face up at the ceiling of her childhood bedroom, awaiting rest that never came.

In the morning when her alarm went off on her phone she immediately silenced it, having been awake the whole time. She just wanted to get her hands on the journal. It was like torture. She shot out of bed, threw on some clothes, and grabbed a pop tart and a coffee before walking to Neal’s to get Henry. They walked to his school in silence, she was honestly just happy to see him and that he had been with his dad the night before. She rustled his hair before hugging him goodbye in front of the school. Promising she would pick him up after.

Walking up to the office she was one of the first to get there. Her father was brewing a pot of coffee and Graham was dismissing the others for the day who had spent the night examining Emma’s home.

“Morning, Em. Good news for you.” Graham greeted her.

“What’s up?” she asked, setting her bag down on her desk. Gearing up for a long day on little sleep.

“Netflix wants to do a documentary on the case.”

“Get the fuck out of here. No.” She was too tired and too stressed to even entertain the idea of a camera crew being here.

“I know. It’s ridiculous… but you have to admit a little impressive. This small town generating quite the following that it is.”

“Yeah. I get it. Amazing.” She rolled her eyes. At least he wasn’t on board with the ridiculous idea. Perhaps one day when Emma is able to give the Jones’ some answers on what happened to their parents, then Netflix could make their little movie.

“One steaming hot cup of black coffee…” David strolled up and handed the mug to Emma, who had just finished her first cup. Thankful that her father was so in tune with her.

“Thanks dad. Are we ready to take a look at this thing?” Emma asked, anxious to get her eyes on the journal.

“Just about. We’ll be in room 3, it’ll be quiet in there. Copies have been made for each of us. The recipe book itself was sent to the lab.” Graham waved a manilla folder, that Emma assumed contained their copies and began to walk toward the door the led to the space they would be in.

Emma, David, and Graham entered the small room where just yesterday she had interviewed Mrs. Jones’ former therapist. So much had happened since then. And quickly. Emma took her copies of the recipe book pages and spread out on one side of the table. With her pens and highlighters and coffee she was ready to go. The more she thought about the delivery of the book she had wondered if it was an inside job. That someone knew the security had been increased at the police station, someone knew where she lived, someone knew how to drop a clue (many) without so much as a scrap of evidence. But those weren’t the kind of things she could go around suggesting. The department was small, and imagine accusing someone that wasn’t guilty, imagine having to see them each day after that. It wasn’t solid enough yet.

Time went by quickly, as the three read and read until the pages had been scanned thoroughly cover to cover. They took breaks for food or water or whatever they needed but for most of the day they were in there. During one of her breaks, Emma was nursing the symptoms of a headache. She needed medicine and she knew Ruby would have some, so she excused herself to go find her best friend.

“Hey, oh my god how are you?” Ruby whispered when Emma tugged her aside to a secluded hallway to talk.

“I’m fine, just a headache, do you have any Advil?”

“Yeah, in my desk, I’ll grab some for you. I heard about the thing being left at your house that’s wild.” Ruby’s eyes were wide with curiosity. Normally Emma would have called or texted her to fill her in, they told each other most everything. But the entire event had gone down so quickly, Emma hadn’t thought to do it.

“Well, we were at the bar when it happened and Henry was with Neal so he wasn’t home thank God.” Emma still got angry thinking about if her son had been home. “How was the rest of your night?”

“Fine, the woman was really nice. Dorothy. The one who bought us the drinks. We have a date this weekend.”

“That’s amazing!!!” Emma grabbed Ruby’s hands. It was nice to be excited for her. A few seconds ticked past and Ruby’s face went from a smile to a smirk as she looked closely at Emma. Almost reading her.

“So was he good?”

“What?!”

“You know what I mean, don’t you dare play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.”

“We just…”

“Fucked in an alley?”

“Ruby.. sh…” Emma grabbed the brunette’s arm. Wary that anyone else around may hear.

“Liam came up to me a few minutes after you both ran out of the bar.” And then Ruby launched into her recount of how she and the other Jones brother had put the pieces together of what was happening between Emma and Killian. “He says he’s never seen Killian like this…”

“Like what?”

“So enamored by someone.”

Emma was a bit taken aback by the choice of words. They were so heavy. But they didn’t feel out of place.

“Let’s just… we can talk later I have to get back in there. I just needed a little break.” Emma collected herself and followed Ruby who gave her a smile before walking to her desk, grabbing the Advil for her friend.

“Is it going well in there? Like have you found anything helpful?” Ruby asked as Emma tossed back the pill with a glass of water.

“Nothing yet. It’s not easy, she doesn’t refer to the guy by name.”

“Did you really think she would?” Ruby’s eyebrow shot up. In fairness, no. It wouldn’t make sense. Emma should have known. She should have known that a woman like Moira Jones, so careful to mask the evidence of her affair, would not have given name to the man she had fallen in love with outside of her marriage.

“Wishful thinking I guess.” Emma shrugged before returning to the room to read through more of the material.

So much time had gone by, and at 3 pm she had to leave. She couldn’t stare anymore at the paper, no more notes could she make in the margins. Nothing of value had presented itself. She would have to let it sink in for the night. She stood from the table, a bit wobbly from sitting so long. David and Graham did the same, no one making any real revelations.

“I’ll walk with you,” David said as she put on her leather jacket to leave the office.

“Mom’s idea?” Emma looked at her dad, who’s face gave away his answer before his mouth did.

“She’s worried, you didn’t sleep last night.”

“She’s too much.”

“Give her a break, Em. You’re her only daughter. It’s like if Henry was in your position.”

And then David’s sound reasoning hit Emma, as it always did. Because the man had a keen sense of always being right.

They walked to the school to grab Henry, who was happy to see Emma. More happy than their usual reunion. She wrapped her arms around him, though they had just seen each other that morning, and didn’t want to let him go.

Henry sat with her all night as she combed through her paper copies of the recipe book. Her mind restless the closer to dark it became. They took over her parents’ dining room table with papers, Henry with his schoolwork, Emma with her files. And kept each other company.

July 27, 1995

Today was better. Brennan and the boys took the boat out because the weather was pleasant. I stayed back, telling them I wasn’t feeling well. The truth of the matter is being on the water isn’t something I enjoy much anymore. I wish I could be there for them, be around my kids but the more I look at them the more they look like Brennan and that frightens me. He frightens me.

The clock in the dining room ticked by as hours passed, Emma reading through page after page. Around 11 pm Henry brought in 2 mugs of tea in hopes that the warm chamomile would urge his mother toward sleep.

October 16, 1995

I ran away for the night. It was exhilarating. I took some time for myself. I felt like I could finally breathe. We stayed in a place I had never heard of. A place no one would ever find us. My own little fairytale. I can’t believe we’ve found each other again. Some things are just meant to be I suppose.

Emma sipped her tea, even as it grew colder the longer it sat. The one thing the journal had done is set a time frame for the affair. It not truly taking hold of Moira’s conscious thoughts until October of 1995. She wondered if this mysterious partner had simply just returned to town or perhaps they had been there the whole time. What changed? And when did they know each other before?

Henry had turned in for the night, the clock reading 1 am. She thought perhaps she should do the same.

“Emma, honey, you need to get some rest.” Mary Margaret put her hands on Emma’s shoulders, but the urging did nothing for Emma. She couldn’t peel herself away.

January 5, 1996

I fear that I might be pregnant. We haven’t been careful lately. I think Brennan may know something. I haven’t touched him in a year. My heart aches because I want to love my husband but he’s a monster. And now that I have tasted the love of another I do not think I could ever got back.

It was 2 am now, and David had joined his daughter at the table. Keeping her company. Alternating between note taking of his own and the daily crossword puzzle.

“What’s a 4 letter word for undergoing rapid combustion?” he said absentmindedly aloud.

“Burn.” Emma replied without looking up.

April 23, 1996

I am made of two incohesive parts. The part of me that wants to see my family succeed and be the people everyone thinks we are. To love being a mother, to grow old with the man I married. Then there is the part the yearns to run. The portion of me that only feels free and accepted when I am without my family, and with the true love of my life.

Emma was alone in the dining room again. The only light being the dimmed chandelier above. She looked around at the light green walls, the banquet filled with photos, the floral curtains, the contents of a home. A place where she grew up loved and her bad finger painting art was always hung on the fridge with pride.

When Moira Jones referenced her family in her writing there was always a ‘but’, always something that kept her from fully embracing that part of her. The roadblock being her husband, the man she once loved. Emma thought of her own parents, who had demonstrated probably one of the most sickeningly loving and healthy marriages of all time. And she thought of Killian, who had never experienced that.

The last entry, the last page of the Recipe book was written two weeks before she was murdered.

September 2, 1997

He breathes new life into me, each time I see him. Every time he steals me away I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if this were all the time. But for now and for a while it’s hidden moments. I love him. I really do. Maybe someday when the boys have moved out and are on their own I can find a way to have my life the way I want. Living this way forever though is a thought I can no longer bear.

At 3 in the morning Emma closed the files and felt herself finally tired enough to sleep. She crawled into the bed in her pink fluffy bedroom of the past. Looking at the stuffed animals that lined the shelves. Her desk that still had a massive desk top computer on it. The cool feeling of the sheets that had come from leaving the windows open. Sleep overtook her body until Friday morning when her mother had to shake her awake after 4 straight hours of semi-pleasant rest.

Emma walked into the office with purpose, knowing what was in store for today. Her father had let her know at the breakfast table that the Jones’ were coming in to hear about the newest development. She stiffened slightly at the thought. The last time she had been with Killian had been… heated. That seemed to be their pattern these days. See each other, tease, kiss, sweat, swoon, come. It was wild and intriguing but uncharacteristic of Emma, and she suspected that is wasn’t the kind of behavior Killian indulged in regularly. At least she hoped not…

“So Wednesday night, we’re assuming, around 11 pm a leather bound recipe book was distributed. It belonged to your mother, her initials are engraved on the front cover.” David was at the front of the room clicking through a slideshow of pictures that had been assembled to show Killian, Liam and Regina what had come up. “The book turned out to be the journal Moira Jones used up until two weeks before she died.”

Graham sat next to Emma, their files of notes on the journal on the table in front of him. He hadn’t made much progress either but he and Emma both agreed the timeline of the thing was relevant to the case. If they could decipher when exactly the affair started, and when they had initially met, the team could narrow down who it was.

Killian was directly across from Emma, as per usual, a delectable form of torture especially now that they had engaged in such intimate behavior… several times. He wore a navy blue suit that hugged him so well. Focus. He’s not that good looking. Alright, well that was a lie. It felt like though she wore jeans and a long sleeve shirt, he could see her underwear. She averted her eyes, twiddling her thumbs, she had told David to give the presentation today citing exhaustion as her reason against doing it herself.

“I don’t understand, didn’t you all enforce stronger security here? More cameras? How did this person drop something at the station again without being caught?” Regina spoke up.

“Because it wasn’t left at the station… it was on Emma’s porch.” The room got quiet. Emma was nervous to look up because she knew who would be staring right at her. She did anyway, and caught the deep blue pools of concern from the man across from her.

“This was at your house?” Killian’s words coming out before he realized there were other people in the room, who didn’t exactly know how close he and Emma had become. “Are you still staying there? Surely that can’t be safe.”

Her eyes widened the more he talked, trying to signal to him that he should fucking cool it before everyone picked up on the fact that he was speaking directly to her on a more personal level than was appropriate. She kicked his shin underneath the table and he winced but not enough that anyone caught it.

“We’ve had a team scour the place for anything but not so much as a tire mark was left behind. So whoever did it is on foot or just local.” Graham stood taking over the slide show. The focus of the room shifting to him as he discussed the installation of security cameras at Emma’s as well as more public street corners.

But Killian’s attention remained on Emma. His face looking pained as he completely ignored the rest of the meeting as did she.

Emma was alone for the night. Henry was with Neal for the next few days. Until she was sure it would be okay for him to be there again. Two days away from her home was long enough. The coward dropping hints at her doorstep couldn’t keep her away forever.

Ever since the recipe book had been deposited on her porch, Emma’s life had been a non-stop whirlwind of insanity. She had slept little, eaten even less, and spent most of her time trying to capitalize on the development before it was too late. All the while her home, the haven she had created in which she raised her son, was blocked off with yellow caution tape and swarmed with investigators.

When they finally gave her to go ahead to return to her house Friday evening after work, she did so without hesitation. No one would chase her out of it. No matter how weird she felt about walking up the steps this time to find that the porch looked normal. All was in place, the only remnants of the other night was a piece of tape left on the railing that had been ripped away. She would deal with it later. Right now all she wanted was to go for a run, take a bubble bath, and climb into her own bed.

Her mind was restless as she walked through the house. Wondering if the person who had left the note had peaked inside, seen the contents of her life. A shiver went down her spine, and not in a good way. The whole thing was violating. So she went to her room, changed into leggings and a tank top, and put in her headphones as she set out for a run.

The evening was crisp for May. But she didn’t mind. It kept her cool. The loud music she played in her ears a way to block out her wandering mind as much as it possibly could. She reached for the volume button and turned them up just a bit more as she rounded a bend to where the park was. The trees were lush and green after all of the rain in April. The smell of freshly mowed grass filled her nostrils. She closed her eyes and slowed for a moment. Inhale, exhale, she urged herself. In her experience, there wasn’t anything a few minutes of measured breathing wouldn’t fix. Until today.

A few people were scattered at the park, walking along the circular path surrounding the pond. Young families, kids, an elderly couple strolling hand in hand. She ran past all of them to take the route through the woods that would lead back to her house. Her legs begged her to slow as she maintained an all out sprint the entire way. The rush of the wind on her face, the steady increase of her breath, the pounding of her heart. Her shoes hit the dirt path one after the other, carrying her off into an abyss for just a moment. The runner’s high.

It quickly wore off when she stopped in front of her house. The same place she had lived for so long but that appeared so different to her now. She wished Henry was on the porch to greet her, or that her mother and father were there helping with dinner. She wished Ruby was walking out of the door to hand her a glass of Merlot and spend the Friday night talking about nothing.

She wished that someone was there to wrap her in their arms as she felt herself collapse to her knees on the walkway. Her arms cradling her chest as she tried to calm herself. Her body was so overstimulated. Her mind so active. All she wanted was peace but she was having trouble getting it. Her head hit the concrete and she rested there for a while. Catching herself, breathing, calming herself, untying the knots that had formed within her.

“This is your fucking house,” she muttered to herself. And it was enough to propel her inside. Enough to make her feel like she could unwind a bit. Enough to allow her a relaxing bubble bath for one. But it was not enough to discourage her from texting back when she got a message from a certain tall, dark Englishman, who had come into her train of thought more than once as she soaked within the bubbles of her bath.

Killian: Are you at your house?

Emma: Yeah, what’s up?

Killian: Mind if I stop by? I have something of a favor to ask.

He had never been here before, she would have to give him the address. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but she felt like it was. The idea of him coming here. What could he possibly have to ask her? Probably something flirty and obscene, perhaps she should stay in the tub until he arrived. Allow him to take her right where she sat. Emma shuddered. The man had definitely awakened something within her. Eventually she texted him her address and rose from the bathwater to get dressed. As much as she was attracted to him in such a primal way, today was not a day where she was feeling utterly bold or sexual. Their last encounters serving as a precedent for their behavior around each other made her a bit nervous for his arrival.

Emma took a few moments to dress herself, settling for sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt. Her body still a bit sore from her earlier run. She took her hair down from the high messy bun it had been in and let the blonde curls fall over her shoulders. It was a bit unruly from the steam of the bath but she ran her fingers through making it look semi-presentable. When the doorbell rang she jumped a bit, never having been a jumpy person she attributed it to the goings on of the past few days and padded down the stairs.

As she rounded the bend from the kitchen to the foyer she could see the outline of her visitor. Rolling her eyes she unlocked the deadbolt and cracked the door to find a very tall and devastatingly handsome man on her front porch. And next to him, his loyal steed.

“Good evening, m’lady,” Killian joked. She took in the site of him on her porch. Dressed down from his earlier appearance. Simple jeans and a flannel, not unlike the day she had first met Princess, his dog. Who was also next to him on her porch, sitting patiently with her eyes on the large brown paper bag in her owner’s hand. “We thought you might like some company.”

“How do you know I’m alone?” she asked, maybe a bit colder than she would have liked to come off.

“Are you not?” His eyebrow went up. Of course he knew she would be alone, because he was alone.

“Well, since I am, you can come in I suppose.”

“How kind of you to offer, Miss Nolan. And here I thought bearing grilled cheese and onion rings would be enough to grant me entrance to your abode.” He lifted the bag and waved it closer to her eye level. She could smell the grease scent coming through and pretended the fluttering in her stomach was from the thought of her favorite meal, not from something else.

She rolled her eyes at him before swinging the door all the way open so he and his dog could walk through. Here he was, she thought, in her home. He didn’t look all that out of place. The general regality of his demeanor made him fit with the grandeur of the old victorian home’s entryway.

“Lovely place you have here,” he surveyed the surroundings, probably comparing them to whatever palace he currently resided in in London.

“Well, it isn’t quite the penthouse suite but it suits me just fine,” she teased. “Here let me take that, I’ll get us some plates.” She grabbed the paper bag from his hand and did not miss the shock wave that went through her when their fingertips touched. She let them linger just a bit too long before retracting and making her way to the kitchen.

Emma took two plates from her cabinet and began preparing the meals. He had gotten her favorite food and one for himself as well. The oil from the sandwich coating her fingers as she removed them from their plastic takeout containers. She licked her fingers, savoring the taste, and trying not to think too hard about Killian making such a thoughtful gesture. Also trying to not think about how domestic of a scene this was.

“So is this the favor you came to ask me? Keep you and your dog occupied on a Friday night?” she walked over to the kitchen table where she set the plates down. Princess had been freed from her leash and was now waiting by the food Emma had placed on the table.

“Believe it or not, no,” he seated himself at one of the wooden chairs. “It seems I will be going to New York for a few days, and I need someone to watch the dog.” His hand went up to scratch behind his ear as he said it. The nervous quirk.

She sat down across from him. Taking in the image of him sitting in her kitchen, eating a grilled cheese sandwich.“You need me to dog sit?”

“I thought perhaps you two could keep each other company.” He took a bite of the grilled cheese and swallowed before speaking again. “She’s not much of a ferocious guard dog but she’ll let you know if someone is outside who isn’t supposed to be there.”

Now she understood.

“Killian, I don’t need your protection in my own home.”

“Not mine, love. My dog’s.” He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his lap, seemingly immovable on the issue. “And I know you don’t need it but I wanted to offer.”

“I’ll watch Princess. But only as a favor to her, not to you.” The earnestness of his offer getting to her.

“Tell yourself whatever you must, Emma.” Though he had experienced this small victory, Emma knew she wouldn’t mind having the dog around. A quiet kind of company that would bark if anything was a miss. It would be a bit of a comfort at least.

“Why are you going to New York anyway?”

“I’m the keynote speaker at a conference at Columbia’s business school.”

“Wow… Aren’t you fancy?” she mocked. Sometimes when he was laid back like this she forgot just how successful he had been. And continued to be. Even though he was far from his territory and dealing with an immense amount of inner turmoil about his parents’ murder.

“Hardly.” He finished his sandwich and wiped his hands on a napkin. His eyes had left hers and she missed them. “It’s a standing engagement I have with the university... It’s my father’s alma mater.”

They had both finished their meals now, and as she searched his face there was a sadness there at the mention of his father. Without thinking too much more about it Emma reached across the table and grabbed his hand. His eyes shot to the place where their skin now touched. A chaste motion but nevertheless, electric. Then his eyes went back to her and she offered a light smile.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” she asked. His face softened at her suggestion.

“Sure,” he smiled back at her.

Emma got up from the table and Killian cleared off their plates, loading them into the dishwasher. She told him to take the dog and that she would bring the wine into the living room. As she poured the thick, red Merlot from the bottle she thought of the turn her day had taken. How out of place she had felt in her home just an hour ago. But now she was the slightest bit more at ease. It didn’t stop her from peeking out windows and listening for any out of place noises though.

When she found Killian he was standing before the fireplace in her living room looking at the pictures on the mantle.

“Is this your boy?” he asked holding up a silver antique frame with Henry’s most recent school picture on display.

“Yeah, that’s Henry.” She set the mugs on the coffee table. “He’s the greatest.”

Killian smiled and looked down at his feet before putting the frame back in its place. “And you have been raising him on your own since you were eighteen?” He continued to look at the trinkets that littered the mantle. Paraphernalia from different estate sales and antique shops. The whole idea of living in Emma’s little pseudo-victorian home was for it to be true to its era.

“Not entirely on my own. Neal and I co-parent a lot. That’s where Henry is tonight… and where he has been a lot since the book was left here.”

“It’s very impressive… that you’re able to do that. Most aren’t.” Killian took one glass of wine from Emma’s hand and stood facing her.

“I’ve had a lot of help. I lived with my parents until I graduated high school. Henry and I shared a tiny loft bedroom.” She smiled remembering how hectic that time of her life was. She was just barely a high school senior with a newborn in a town where gossip traveled faster than wind. Trying to squeeze a car seat and a stroller into her little yellow bug.

“Can’t imagine the town folk were too forgiving?” Killian’s eyebrow shot up as he made the remark. There was something else behind his words though. Perhaps he himself was remembering the way that the town had been so unforgiving to him during such a manic time in his life.

She shook her head, no, and took a sip of the wine. Killian’s reputation about Storybrooke wasn’t great even before the murder of his parents. Emma remembered right after the news broke it took very little time for the town to point fingers at Killian, or his brother. No wonder he left the country.

“Was it lonely here for you? Before you moved I mean.” Immediately after she asked it she worried the question was too personal. But instead of ignoring the question he moved to sit on one of the plush green couches, next to the spot where his dog had made herself right at home. Lounging on her belly as if she had every right to be there. His hand settled on Princess’s back.

“Storybrooke was always rather lonely for me.” He sipped from his glass, eyes focused on something ahead of him. “I did not keep much company even before my parents’ death.”

This much Emma knew to be true. He had always maintained an air of mystery. She would see Killian here or there in social situations but he never seemed to be participating in anything. She never saw him joining the other older boys for keg stands or going to the Homecoming dances. He always seemed above it all.

“I know what you mean,” she smiled as his eyes met hers again. “When I got pregnant this town became isolating for me.” She opted to sit on the couch, separated from him by the presence of his sleeping dog, similar to the first night she had gone to his place.

“Imagine if we had kept each other company during those times. The teen mother and town black sheep going to Granny’s for a milkshake.

She had to let out a slight laugh at the thought. The two of them milling about the small town together stirring up controversy. Neal had been around but he wasn’t the one strapped with a ten pound lump to his belly. Everyone had definitely been easier on him than her. She felt a small pang in her heart almost wishing she had had someone during that time of her life who had felt as alone and talked about as she had.

When she looked in his eyes she could tell he was thinking the same. The laughing lulled to a comfortable silence between the two.

“You truly are braver than I for staying here. Building a life instead of running away,” Killian continued.

“Trust me I could not have done any of this without my par-,” she stopped herself before she finished the word. Of course he left. Why in the world would he have stayed?

“It’s alright, love, it’s been quite a while they’ve been gone.” He paused, probably contemplating whether or not to get into it. “It’s hard because there are no answers. A lot of the times when you lose someone there are these comforting little sayings that can get you along… ‘they’re in a better place now’ or ‘at least they aren’t suffering anymore’ but that doesn’t entirely apply here. I don’t even know who killed them.”

“She loved you very much, Killian…” Emma didn’t know if he would be angered if she mentioned his mother or her journal but she pressed on anyway. “I read her thoughts, she always thought of you and Liam.”

“I know you probably think she isn’t a good person for stepping out on my father, Emma, but she really was. She was just… unhappy.”

“Do you ever worry we won’t find out what happened to them?” Another bold question, Emma chose to blame it on the wine she had been nursing. Giving her the confidence to pry a bit further into his head.

“No.” He said with confidence. “No I don’t doubt you’ll figure it out.”

“How can you be so sure?” she wondered. His blind confidence in her abilities had been something he was steadfast in almost the entire time he had been back.

“I happen to believe the case is in very capable hands,” he looked at her, his eyes honest with admiration. Her heart began beating just a little bit faster. “You aren’t really someone who gives up what they want so easily, love.”

She looked at him wondering how he could be so certain of her. Trying to pull together a plausible string of events that could make him feel the way he claimed to feel right now.

“Do you happen to remember being at one of my family’s Christmas parties years ago, Emma?” he asked. She shook her head yes but was unsure of where he was going with this. “I wasn’t any older than perhaps 6 or 7 at the time. And there was a group of boys playing with a pirate ship playhouse I had gotten that year.”

The memory began to slip back into her mind. The pink blush creeping up her neck. Something she had not thought about, really ever. The only part of the Christmas party so clear in her head being the adult conversation she had heard during the game of hide and seek.

“You and another girl had wanted to play, tiny little thing you were, but still… stubborn. And one of the boys said that girls couldn’t be pirates.” He looked down at his hands and near empty glass of wine, almost bashful. “And you were having absolutely none of it. You berated him for not letting you into the playhouse, stood up for yourself and the other girl.”

“Jesus…” she looked down, a bit embarrassed that of all things he thought of that moment. “I never was very dainty. I can’t believe you remember that.”

“The night I returned the Storybrooke, when I saw you in the bar I hadn’t made the connection. I was far too drunk and a bit of an ass..”

“A bit?” She smiled.

“But the next day when I came to the police station and I saw you, and remembered your father… that was the first thing that came to my mind.”

There was no way her face wasn’t entirely red as he shared the story. The silence leaving room to notice just how close they were to each other on the couch despite the dog between them.

Hours had gone by since he had first come over. The whole of the thing flowing so unexpectedly. They finished their wine and had another glass but that was all. Simply occupied enough by each other’s presence. They talked and joked, sharing meaningless stories. For a while they played a game of Trouble that Emma had lying around when she realized she lacked a deck of cards. Killian had never played, and the entirety of the game was amusing to Emma.

“Emma this game requires absolutely no skill…” he was flustered, after their first round when he had learned to play. Emma laughed because she was winning… again.

“That’s the fun, there’s no real strategy.” She hit the plastic bubble top dice spinner for her turn and moved the green pegs around to win once again.

“Bloody hell.” His head fell into his hands, upset by another devastating loss. Despite his poor loser mentality Emma couldn’t remember the last time she had smiled so much.

After the game they took the dog outside for her to stretch her legs and move. It also gave Princess the opportunity to sniff for anything that alarmed her. She didn’t come up with anything but the walk was still nice despite the late hour.

When they came back inside Princess claimed an armchair by the window as Killian and Emma resumed their spots on the couch. And unknowingly they had gravitated closer and closer. Though no touching ever occurred. She had sensed when he had come to visit her tonight that he wasn’t looking for another of their heated encounters against a desk, or up against a brick wall in an alley, or handcuffed to a wrought iron railing. No, he didn’t come here looking for any of that. He just wanted company.

They talked for a while, discussing their differences. How he loved to cook and she couldn’t even toast a pop tart. How he knew several languages fluently and she knew none. And then too their similarities. How they both loved old black and white movies, how they had both been exceptionally good at English class in school but opted for careers in other things. How both of them had only been in one serious relationship before.

“After my parents’ death I threw myself into my schooling. It was important that I continue my education. I worked hard and forgot about youth, as the whole experience had been lost on me anyway… it’s hard to want a companion when you’ve never quite seen a good example of a healthy marriage.” He was opening up to her, and she with him. As the time ticked away and the natural flow of conversation led to the more personal corners of their brains. “That was until I met Grace. She, in short, changed everything for me.”

Emma looked at the man across from her. He looked so vulnerable at the moment. What appeared to be a bit of tears forming behind his eyes but he never let them slip as he spoke of his lost love. He told his tale of lust at first site, falling irrevocably in love with the woman who would ultimately leave him broken yet again.

“The night she left our flat she screamed at me and threw a lamp…” the sadness still there as he recalled the memory. “I wasn’t around much, I traveled for work constantly. I was caught up in making money, promotion after promotion didn’t matter to her. She wanted no part of it… no part of me.”

Emma knew the feeling well. When she and Neal had ended their relationship it was painful. Soul crushingly painful, because you never think it will happen. There was a time Emma had thought she would marry Neal, and a time Killian had thought he would marry Grace. But neither of those things happened.

“Neal and I were together for most of high school, off and on, we were a bit out of control then. And at first, everything was exciting. The feeling of being young and in love, like nothing can touch you. But then I got pregnant, I was only 18, and clueless. We tried to stay together, we really did but we wore each other down. There wasn’t a thing we didn’t argue about.” She thought back to fighting with him at all hours of the night, between feedings and bouts of exhaustion. If the baby wasn’t screaming she and Neal were. “We knew that if we didn’t end our relationship we would get to a point where we wouldn’t be able to be in the same room.”

Killian reached out his hand to brush a strand of curly blond hair off her face. She leaned her cheek into his hand, relishing in his tender touch. It was electric and quite different from their encounter the other night. The flame that existed between them more tame today, but it still burned.

They were so close and she could feel the held breath on either of their lips. The only sound around them was the light tick of the grandfather clock, the only thing keeping her on the ground. God he smelled good.

“You and I, we understand each other.” She said finally.

“Aye, it seems we do.” He smiled as his hand fell from her cheek to her shoulder to her hand that rested on the back of the couch. It was such a stark contrast to the past few times they had been alone together. But she didn’t mind. At least not tonight, when she had been feeling so uncomfortable in her home earlier. That had seemed to slip away though, and Killian appeared to be keenly aware to not push her.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, love, but as it turns out I have a 7 am flight to New York and it is now…” he checked the watch on his wrist, the one attached to the hand that had held hers. She missed the brief touch the instant it was gone, but she would never say that. “... 4 in the morning.”

“Shit…” she stood before she could think anymore about grabbing his hand again. “You should go… I mean… for your flight, not because I want… fuck.”

He stood to meet her gaze, amused at how frazzled she had gotten so quickly. “Walk me out?” He asked, his eyebrow going up at the suggestion. Hers doing the same.

The air in the room lightened, both stepping further away from one another. Something like disappointment rang through Emma but she ignored it. She tried to ignore it.

“Of course.” Emma turned and led the way to the front door. Her words in her throat, waiting to come out but he had stopped to pet his dog and say goodbye. She still wasn’t wholly sure about how to care for a dog but from what she had learned of Princess thus far she seemed relatively low maintenance.

“You know, you’re the first guy to come over here that wasn’t some sort of relative… or Neal,” she joked as they walked down the hall.

“Careful, darling. I may do this more often if I feel too welcome,” the smirk that crossed his face was borderline devious but just the right amount of charming for Emma to smile back.

They made their way to the front door in a comfortable silence. Neither truly feeling like they knew what to say. It wasn’t exactly conventional for this type of thing to happen. She didn’t hate having Killian here though. On some weird level he had taken her mind off of things.

“Thank you, Emma, for the lovely company.” They had reached the door and now Emma didn’t know what to do. Was she supposed to hug him? Shove him out the door without another word?

“You aren’t so bad yourself.” Emma couldn’t help it when her eyes went straight to his lips. Her breath caught in her throat thinking of where his lips had last been on her body.

“Goodnight...er morning, love.” Before she knew what was happening he was leaning toward her, closing the distance between them. His lips were soft on hers, almost as if he was asking permission to continue. She met him with equal tenderness. His hand came up to cup her cheek and his other hand found its way around her waist to pull her closer.

She slowly deepened the kiss, wanting to go further but not wanting to ruin the intimacy of this moment. Her own arms found their way around him and she tugged lightly on the hair at the nape of his neck. Too quickly it was over and he was slowly pulling away. His cheeks were flushed a light red and Emma couldn’t bite back her smile.

“Good morning, Killian.” She wanted to do more. Like nothing she had ever felt before she yearned for more. But the way he was staring at her wasn’t the same hungry look he had given her the night at the desk, or the night at the bar, or the time at his hotel. He wouldn’t be crossing that line tonight.

His thumb brushed lightly over her bottom lip eliciting a tingle deep in her belly before turning and exiting through the front door.

“Uhh, Killian,” she called to him when he was halfway down the front steps. He turned, his hair just the barest bit disheveled from her hands, his sleeves rolled up, his jeans hanging divinely. “When will you be back?”

“I return Sunday night,” a wicked smile appeared on his face as if he could read her mind. “Will I see you then?”

“That all depends…” Emma teased. Leaning against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. “Have you had enough of me yet?”

He turned fully around marching across the porch with purpose, a furious glint in his eyes as he approached her. Heat filled Emma as he grabbed the sides of her face kissing her breathless as she leaned against the wooden frame for support. His lips less soft and more urgent as he plundered her mouth. Her hand grasped at the collar of his shirt, grounding her in the moment. If she had been worried that his lack of sexual advances tonight were in anyway indicative of fading interest in her, he proved her wrong with his kiss. His long, slow, passionate movements of his tongue leading her to a level of wanting she didn’t know existed. And all too quickly he had pulled away.

His eyes didn’t meet hers at first, he looked to be contemplating all sorts of things as the fire from their kiss calmed. Though her heart raced with desire, he had a flight to catch. She thought that perhaps if he didn’t that the kiss would not have stopped.

When Killian finally looked up at her, he had cooled his demeanor. Looking every bit the suave, gentleman he so often acted as. His hands fell from her face, reaching for hers that were still on his chest.

A dark laugh from the back of his throat prefaced his words. “Does it feel as though I’ve had enough of you?” He eyed her, carefully, as he rolled his hips to meet hers so she could feel just how hard he was.

“Because I thought I had made myself clear,” he grabbed Emma’s left hand as he continued, pulling it up to his lips to leave one last gentle kiss on the skin of her wrist. She ached, waiting for what he would say next. “Perhaps when I return I’ll have to show you just how far from the truth your question is.”

“I look forward to it, Killian,” she answered coolly. Though her body was anything but. His handsome face twisting into a smile.

“I’ll see you Sunday then, my darling.”

She stilled, the use of the word my that had to this point only occurred in the throes of passion. Her mind racing trying to formulate a response but she couldn’t she was focused too hard on the thought of being his. And as he turned to walk away to his car, that he would get in and ride away, she realized what he had been doing all night.

Killian Jones, true to his word, was taking his time with her.