#explanationsssssss

[fansids]

So I was rewatching the first episode of lmk and uh...

Wait a fucking second....

YOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THE SECOND IMAGE WAS FROM THE SANDY EPISODE TO CATCH A LEAF!

MAYBE I WASN'T AS WRONG AS I THOUGHT!!!!

[welllpthisishappening]

You Play Ball Like a Girl (43/?)

“Nope,” he answered, popping his mouth on the final letter. “I came here to let you know that someone is looking for you.” “If it’s Jefferson I’m going to pull my hair out at this desk.” “It’s Milah Gold.”

Emma almost fell out of her chair again. “What?”

“Yup,” Will nodded, crossing his arms and looking at Emma seriously. “Came onto the floor a couple of minutes ago. Said she wanted to talk to you and only you.”

Closing in on the end of the line on Ao3 and all tag’ed up on Tumblr if you want to start from the very long ago start. 

Mary Margaret had been mad.

Or disappointed. Mary Margaret didn’t get mad.

She got disappointed. And she was very disappointed in Emma.

“I just wish you would have talked to me,” she said a few weeks later, still unable to totally understand why Emma had run away.

“And prove to you what a jerk I was?” Emma asked. “No, it was better to get out of here and let you exist in post-engagement bliss for a few days.” “I would have listened.” “And then you have felt guilty and I wasn’t going to do that. Not to you M’s.”

“I want you to be happy, Emma.” “And I am. Really. One hundred percent.” “Yeah?” “I’m not lying to you, M’s,” Emma said, meaning it. She wasn’t. She was happy for Mary Margaret and David – still a bit jealous, certainly – but also one hundred percent happy.

“Then can I ask you a question?” “Of course.”  Mary Margaret slid her foot along the kitchen floor and Emma widened her eyes, waiting for any sort of an actual question. “M’s?” Emma prompted and Mary Margaret groaned. “I can’t answer anything if you don’t ask me.” “I was wondering if you’d be my maid of honor?” Mary Margaret rushed out, nearly stumbling over the words as she continued to stare pointedly at her feet.

Emma took a step forward and reached out to grab her arm, squeezing slightly and smiling. “You’re kidding right?” “What?” “You think you honestly have to ask me to do that? Of course I will.”

Mary Margaret’s shoulders visibly slumped and she exhaled loudly. Emma just shook her head. “I just wanted to make sure you wanted to.” “I’m happy for you M’s,” Emma pressed. “Always. I was just being selfish.”

“Selfish? How?” “Well, maybe that’s not the right word. It was a whole mess of jumbled up emotions and childhood fears, but I think I figured it out.” “That so?”

“Yeah,” Emma nodded. “I did.” “It wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with where you went did it?” “Maybe.”

Mary Margaret smiled knowingly at Emma. She just widened her eyes and smiled. “I’m glad,” Mary Margaret said. “You deserve that.” “So I’ve heard.” Mary Margaret made a face that looked like she was 15 and Emma had just told her that she had a crush on a boy. It felt exciting and unexpected and Emma’s stomach flipped.

“Good,” Mary Margaret said strongly. “I was worried.” “About?” “That you were going to put those walls back up, bigger and stronger than before, because he tried to make sure he kept some control of his life.” “I know he wasn’t leaving me . Or at least I do now.” “Good,” Mary Margaret repeated. “That is really, really good.” “I’m hoping.” Mary Margaret looked particularly satisfied with that answer and Emma did her best not to groan at her friend – that would have taken away from the whole apology kick she was on. “What?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Nothing. I’m not saying anything at all.” “Yuh huh.”

“You think you’ll go back soon?”

“The Knicks don’t play in Boston for another month.” “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” “I know it is,” Emma sighed. “I don’t know, M’s. Maybe. He’s in Florida now anyway. Spring training and all that.” “And he likes it? The PR thing? It didn’t seem like something Killian would be into.” “That’s because it’s not.” Emma sighed again, but this time it was from genuine worry. He was doing a good job trying to pretend.

If Emma didn’t know him – couldn’t hear the way his voice skipped slightly when he talked about batting practice and games and how he couldn’t believe he had to be in charge of an Instagram feed – she would have been certain he was ok.

But Emma did know Killian, could hear the way his voice changed when he talked about the team and she knew – even if he wouldn’t admit it – that he was bordering dangerously close to wallowing.

“He doesn’t want to talk about it,” Emma said. “But I know there’s something going on.”

“I’m sure it’s kind of an overwhelming job.” “And one he shouldn’t be doing.” Mary Margaret raised her eyebrows, staring at Emma in surprise. It was a rather pointed opinion. “Yeah, I know,” Emma muttered. “I don’t know, M’s. I think it’s harder than he expected. But if he doesn’t want to tell me, I’m not going to push. Not yet at least.” “Emma Swan, mature adult,” Mary Margaret teased.

“Sometimes. Anyway, we were talking about you and happiness and plans. Let’s talk about that more.” “You want to talk about wedding plans with me? You would barely even open Regina’s e-mails.”

“That’s different and you know it. I like you a lot more than Regina.” “I’m honored.”

“It wasn’t much of a competition if we’re being honest,” Emma said. “So, come on, M’s. I know you’ve got plans. And color schemes. And more plans. Let’s hear ‘em.”

“Blue.”

“Blue?” “The color scheme,” Mary Margaret said. “I was thinking blue. And next spring. Here.”

“Here?” Emma repeated, earning a look from Mary Margaret. “Sorry, sorry,” she muttered. “I just wasn’t expecting that.” “Yeah, here. And small. Like as small as possible.”

“People aren’t going to be happy about that.”

“People can deal,” Mary Margaret said in a very un-Mary Margaret voice. “We’ll do something in Storybrooke later, but our lives are here . I’m not trying to throw some town-wide ball for my wedding. I just want to marry David. I’d do it later this afternoon if I could. I don’t really need anything more than that.” Emma took a deep breath – stunned slightly by the romance of it all – and then she had an idea. “Why don’t you?”

“Why don’t I what?” “Marry David.” “I think that’s the plan,” Mary Margaret said, holding up her left hand and the ring there as if it was proof.

“That’s what I mean,” Emma continued. “Get married this spring. We can still follow all your plans. Even get an entirely blue color scheme set. It’ll just happen sooner.” “You think we can pull that off?” “I don’t see why not. I mean it’s not an immediate elopement, so it’ll have some structure. But you’ll avoid the entire wedding-weekend extravaganza and get what you want and then we can go home at some point and let people shower you with gifts.” Mary Margaret stared at Emma for a beat, thoughts nearly making noise as they raced through her head. She took a few steps in the small kitchen. “That could work,” she said softly, still pacing. “I mean that could really work.” “I don’t see why not.”

“You’re a genius.” “Just your friend.” “And maid of honor,” Mary Margaret pointed out, before turning back around and practically crushing Emma in a hug.

“That too.” “You sure you’re ok with this?”

“M’s,” Emma said slowly, leaning back. “Of course.”

And she was.

Really.

She was slightly nervous about where she was going to live in a few months, but she’d cross that bridge when she got to. Or she’d ignore it completely.

Emma wasn’t entirely sure yet.

Either way – she was going to be ok.

Mary Margaret hugged her again – tightly – and Emma was just about to complain about her oxygen intake when she heard the front door slam as David all but ran into the middle of the kitchen.

He stared at them for a moment before starting to talk – quickly.

“Did I miss something?” he asked. “Looks like I missed something. Wait, don’t say anything yet. I have news. Or I might have news.” “Are you having a conniption?” Emma asked, staring at him questioningly. He was practically jogging in place.

“Nervous energy.” “About?” David held up an envelope and Mary Margaret gasped quietly. “What is that?” Emma asked.

“My results.” “From the detective’s exam?” David nodded. “Well, open it!” David nodded again, but didn’t move to open the envelope. Mary Margaret looked slightly terrified. Emma sighed dramatically, walking towards him and pulling the letter out of his hand.

“Hey!” David yelled. “Don’t rip it!” “If you don't open it, I will,” Emma threatened, holding the envelope just out of his reach.

David groaned, squeezing his eyes closed and Emma waited. “Do it,” he said.

“You sure?” “If I do it, I might actually rip the letter in half. Do it.”

Emma nodded once and pushed one finger along the end of the envelope. David’s eyes were still squeezed tightly closed. Mary Margaret – finally – moved, reaching forward to grab his hand and it looked like he started to breathe again.

“Ok,” Emma muttered, ripping open the envelope. “Ok. Ok.” “Emma,” Mary Margaret said. “Just read it.”

“Ok,” she repeated, earning a glare from Mary Margaret. “Sorry. Sorry. Let’s read it.”

Emma pulled the paper out of the envelope – surprisingly thin for all its importance. Maybe the city should rethink its stationary budget, less money on DOE missives to reporters and more on NYDP promotions.

“One police plaza...commissioner William Bratton...blah blah blah,” Emma said quickly as David groaned. “Wait. Wait! Wait!”

“God, Emma, read the results,” he said sharply.

“You passed.”

“What?” “You. Passed,” she said again. “Congratulations, Detective Nolan.”

David let out a sigh – a mix between a laugh and a rush of air that had Emma smiling and Mary Margaret teary-eyed. “Really?” he asked.

“The fact that you think I would lie to you about this is troubling.” “I don’t think that.” “Here,” Emma said, handing the sheet of paper over to him. “Look for yourself.”

David took the letter from her hand and stared at it for several moments, tugging Mary Margaret into his side. She rested her head on his shoulder, a mix of pride and slight terror on her face. “You did it,” she whispered.

“I guess so.” “There’s no guessing, David,” Emma said sternly. “That’s legit. Straight from the commissioner’s desk.” “I don’t know about straight from his desk,” he argued, not looking up from the letter.

“Whatever.” “There’s a ceremony later this month,” Mary Margaret added, pointing at the bottom of the letter and a date Emma had skipped over entirely.

“This is for real,” Emma said, flicking David’s arm and getting his attention.

“It is.” “This is also good,” she added.

“It is,” Mary Margaret agreed. David and Emma stared wide-eyed at her for a moment, both taken aback by her declaration.

She had always been supportive – to a fault – but she had always been nervous about David’s career path. To hear that she thought this was a good thing was an almost unheard of development.

“Yeah?” David asked, slinging his arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head.

“Just don’t do anything stupidly heroic and get yourself hurt and we’ll be fine.” “I promise, babe.” “Good.”

“You guys going to tell me what you were talking about before?” David asked. “Looked like you were formulating a plan.” “Formulating has such a horrible connotation,” Emma said. “Let’s just say we were thinking.” “About?” “A wedding,” Mary Margaret answered. David’s arm dropped from her shoulders and he spun slightly, a small smile forming on his face.

“Yeah?” “Well, elopement, actually. That seems like a better word, right Emma?” she asked.

“I think that’s what they would normally call it.” “You want to elope?” “I think I would consider it.”

“I would too,” David said immediately.

“Really?” Mary Margaret asked.

Emma was just as stunned. “Your mom wouldn’t be upset?” she asked, glancing at David as she leaned against the kitchen counter.

“Probably,” he admitted. “But no more than Mary Margaret’s dad. They’d get over it.” He turned towards Mary Margaret, looking at her seriously and Emma suddenly felt like she was interrupting something .

“I just want to marry you,” David said without a hint of hesitation in his voice. “If we can do that sooner rather than later, I’m all for that plan.”

Mary Margaret nodded enthusiastically. “I like that plan.” “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Emma stared at her friends for a moment, biting her lip – mostly so she wouldn’t cry at how damn romantic it was – and wrapped her arms tightly around her middle. Mary Margaret and David hadn’t moved an inch, just stood rooted to the spot staring at each other like they were slightly stunned to see the other one there in front of them.

“If you guys don’t kiss each other right now, I’m going to have a fit,” Emma said.

“Well we can’t have that, can we?” David said, throwing a sarcastic glare at Emma. She made a face at his back as he stepped towards Mary Margaret and kissed her – Emma was absolutely interrupting something now.

She retreated out of the kitchen, walking back down the hallway and pulling her phone out of her back pocket.

The phone was to her ear and ringing before Emma had really considered what she was doing. Killian picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, love,” he said softly – he sounded tired. “I was just going to call you.”

“Yeah?”

“In between BP and the game,” Killian continued. “I had a few minutes.” “Well, I’ve got fairly breaking news.” “Knicks news?” “Life news.” Killian laughed quietly and Emma – not for the first time – felt like he wasn’t telling her something. “Life news sounds like something big.” “Two something bigs.” “You’re stalling, Swan.” “I’m trying to draw out the suspense a bit,” she said, as she walked into her room and collapsed against the small mountain of pillows on her bed. “Keep it exciting.” “Well, you’ve caught my interest. Let’s hear your news.” “David passed his detective’s exam.” “And how is Mary Margaret taking that?” Killian asked quickly. “He’s been worried about the way she’d react.” “I always forget that you guys talk about the precinct. He barely ever brings it up at home.”

“Because he’s afraid of how Mary Margaret will react.”

“She was surprisingly calm, actually,” Emma said. “I think she’s almost ok with it. Almost.”

“Almost is better than not at all,” he laughed. “Was that the second big thing? Mary Margaret?” “Nuh uh, bigger than that.”

Emma heard people talking in the background and someone yell something about updating the Twitter feed and Killian sighed audibly into the phone. “You ok?” Emma asked.

“Sure.” “Killian…” “Tell me the other big news, Swan.” “You sure you don’t have to go?” “You trying to kick me out of this conversation, love?” he laughed.

“I’m not. I’m trying to make sure you don’t have to be somewhere else.” “I’m talking to you,” Killian answered. “Whatever they want me to do can wait.” Emma pressed her lips together tightly before continuing, ignoring every other question she wanted to ask Killian. She told Mary Margaret she wouldn’t push.

“What do you think you’re doing at some point in May?” “Probably watching a baseball game.” “You think you can make it back to New York for like a day? Maybe two?” “You asking me out, Swan?” “This is, officially, your invitation to David and Mary Margaret’s wedding and my request for you to be my plus-one.” He didn’t say anything for a moment and Emma knew he was doing something with his eyebrow. “Still with me?” she asked after a few more moments of prolonged silence.

“Still here,” he muttered.

“That was the other big thing, by the way.” “Yeah, I picked up on that.” “And?” “And they’re getting married in May?”

“Well, I don’t know about May exactly,” Emma said. “This all got decided in the last couple of minutes.” “Efficient.” “Would you believe that they actually want to elope? David’s mom is going to lose her mind.”

“If she reacts like did over even the chance that I changed her radio presets, I’m not sure I’d want to be around when she finds out.”

“You willing to be in on the secret?” Emma asked.

“Of course.” “Just like that?” “If you’re in on the secret, then I’m more than willing to be.” “I like that,” Emma said softly.

She could hear him smile. “Me too.”

Someone yelled Killian in the background and Emma heard the sound of doors slamming and cleats on the ground.

“You gotta go,” she said – a statement, not a question.

“Yeah,” Killian answered. “They’re going to do infield.” “Baseball has so many rounds of warm-ups. Seems unnecessary.”

“Not every sport can start with a layup line, Swan,” he said.

“Probably only basketball actually.”

“True.”

Something was wrong. She knew it. And Emma knew that he knew that she knew it. He just wasn’t going to say anything about it.

She knew that too.

Emma could wait. She could be patient. Probably.

She could at least be encouraging.

“Go run the Boston Red Sox,” she said, filling the empty space in the conversation as quickly as she could. “They sound like they need you.” “To update their Twitter feed and send releases.” “Doesn’t change the fact that they need you.” “True,” he sighed and Emma bit her lip. “Tell Mary Margaret and David I’m in on the elopement secret. I’ll be there.” “I’m holding you to that.”

“I promise, Swan,” he said – all trace of sadness gone from his voice. He sounded like him .

“Good,” Emma answered. “Go save Twitter.”

Killian laughed and the noise against the phone made Emma certain he was nodding at her. “I’m not running the Red Sox nor am I saving Twitter, but I appreciate your enthusiasm. I’ll talk to you later, ok?” “Ok.”

David looked incredibly official in his dress uniform.

He looked like a grown up. A grown up who was going to go out and fight crime for a living.

Emma wasn’t nearly as audibly worried as Mary Margaret was – she wasn’t the one marrying him after all – but she couldn’t help but be concerned that he would do something stupidly heroic, because that was exactly the kind of thing he would do.

She didn’t cry during the ceremony – Emma left that up to Mary Margaret, but she did feel something dangerously close to pride as David stood at attention with the rest of the promoted officers.

The picture the three of them took after the ceremony was sitting in a frame on her desk.

“You’re putting pictures on your desk now?” Will asked, walking up behind her and practically scaring her out of her chair.

“God, Will, walk louder next time.” “Sorry,” he muttered. “So who’s the guy? Boyfriend?” Emma stared at him speculatively, raising her eyebrows. He knew it wasn’t. Everyone knew the guy in the picture wasn’t her boyfriend.

Kathryn – despite her assurances that the story wasn’t really all that exciting without a scandal – had made sure to inform the entire New York Record that Emma and Killian were very much dating and had been for quite some time.

“That’s her,” Emma pointed at Mary Margaret, “fiance. Definitely not my boyfriend.” “He’s a cop?” “You’re one heck of a reporter.” “I am asking a legitimate question.” “He’s a detective now,” Emma said, looking up at him. “Got promoted last week.” Will let out a low whistle and made a face that was somewhere between impressed and sarcastic. Emma made a face. “You just come here to stare at the pictures on my desk?” “Nope,” he answered, popping his mouth on the final letter. “I came here to let you know that someone is looking for you.” “If it’s Jefferson I’m going to pull my hair out at this desk.” “It’s Milah Gold.”

Emma almost fell out of her chair again. “What?”

“Yup,” Will nodded, crossing his arms and looking at Emma seriously. “Came onto the floor a couple of minutes ago. Said she wanted to talk to you and only you.”

“Jeez,” Emma muttered, hand brushing over her chain. Will’s eyes glanced down and he narrowed his stare slightly. Emma dropped her hand. “Where is she now?” “In the conference room.”

Emma sighed and rolled her head between her shoulder blades before standing up and sliding her arms into her blazer. She took a deep breath and Will looked at her warily. “Alright,” Emma said softly, doing her best to calm the nerves racing through her system. “Let’s do this.” Will nodded encouragingly at her and Emma turned on her heels working her way towards the conference room.

Milah Gold was sitting at the end of the conference table, legs crossed perfectly so one heel hooked behind the other. Emma took another deep breath, steeling herself for whatever was about to happen and knocked on the door.

“Mrs. Gold?” she asked, as Milah’s head snapped up. “Will said you wanted to see me?” “You’re Emma?” “Yeah.” “Come in,” she said, pointing towards a chair near her. “Sit down.” “Thanks.” Emma sank down into the chair, resisting the very real urge to ask 800 questions all at once.

They stared at each for a few prolonged minutes of near-painful silence before Emma settled into journalist-mode. She was going to get some answers.

“Why did you want to see me, Mrs. Gold?” she asked.

Milah looked at her appraisingly for another second and smiled sadly. “You can call me Milah.” “Ok,” Emma agreed. “Why did you want to see me Milah?” “You’re straightforward. No wonder Killian liked you.” Emma’s eyebrows shot up and she bit back several immediate – and vaguely biting – responses. “I’m just curious.” “I have no doubt.” “Ok…”

“I wanted to apologize.”

Huh. Well that wasn’t what Emma had expected.

“For?” she asked. Milah spread her hands out, gesturing to the entire office. Emma shrugged. “I don’t know that this was specifically your fault.” “I did try to warn him.” “And you did. I know he appreciated it.”

“Somehow I don’t feel like I changed anything for the better though.”

Emma tried not to sigh. “It is,” she argued, as much with herself as the woman sitting in front of her. “It wouldn’t have ended well for Killian here. He knew that and he understood that.”

“He deserved better than that.” “Yes,” Emma said, not even blinking before she agreed. Milah smiled again.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked.

“Sure.” “You’re serious about this? About Killian?” Emma’s mouth dropped open a bit –  she wasn’t the straightforward one, that appeared to be all Milah’s territory. “Yeah, I am,” she answered after a few more moments. “Very.” “That’s good.”

“Can I ask you something?” Emma continued, crossing her arms and sitting up a bit straighter.

“Sure.” “Why did you leave?” “Right into the deep end, huh?” Milah laughed.

“Figured you weren’t really one to beat around the bush.” “I’m not.”

“Then…”

Milah pursed her lips tightly and stared at Emma – like she was trying to understand her or something – and took a deep breath before answering.

“Robert found out.” “I kind of figured that.” “And he made some threats. He wasn’t as powerful then as he is now, didn’t have nearly enough money, but he could have made Killian’s life very difficult for him, made it nearly impossible for him to get anything besides a job at that paper.”

“So you did what, exactly?” “Offered to come back. Walk away, break all ties and give up on the plans. Robert wouldn’t blackball Killian and things would be fine.” “Didn’t exactly go according to plan,” Emma pointed out, trying to keep the accusation out of her voice.

“Why do you think I wanted to warn him about Robert this time?” “You were trying to make amends.” “Or something like that. It didn’t seem to work again.”

Emma didn’t know what to say.

It hadn’t worked. Again.

And now Killian was by himself in Florida, going crazy over Twitter feeds and Instragram likes and he wouldn’t talk to Emma about it.

“You don’t have to try and disagree with me,” Milah said. “I know it’s true. But I’m trying to fix it again.” “Maybe you should stop doing that,” Emma mumbled before she could think about stopping herself. “Leave Killian alone.” Milah’s eyes widened for a moment, but when Emma met her eyes she looked more impressed than anything else. “You really do care,” she said, sounding a bit amazed.

“More than anything.”

It was what Killian always said to her – more than anything – and Milah’s lips ticked up at the words. “Good,” she said. “Then you can help me fix this.” “I don’t know what you think I can do. He went to Boston on his own. He got that job on his own. Because he didn’t want to get fired by your husband.”

“I know that, but that’s what I’m trying to tell you – we’re leaving.” “What?”

“We’ve been here for four months. Robert puts on a good show, trying to look big and important, but he wants to go home. And,” Milah added, eyes practically flashing at Emma. “If we stay any longer this whole newspaper will realize he’s having an affair with Belle in news.”

Emma wondered what kind of world she had stumbled into when she decided to get a job at The New York Record . This wasn’t real life. It couldn’t be. People simply could not be this dramatic this consistently.

And yet, here she was, sitting in a conference room talking with her boyfriend’s ex- whatever , discussing her husband’s affairs and how to get Killian back in New York.

At least that was what Emma thought was going on.

“So, you’re just going to leave and you think that’ll make Killian walk away from the Red Sox and do what?”

“He’ll come back for you,” Milah argued, sounding very certain for having only met Emma a few minutes before.

“He didn’t stay because of me.” “And I would bet this entire stupid newspaper that he is miserable.” Emma shrugged. “He’s not going to come back to The Record .”

“He can’t come back to The Record ,” Milah said, waving her hand in the air again. “Robert’s made sure of that at least. But there are other jobs in New York. He’s always wanted to be in New York. This is his home.” “I’m not disagreeing with you,” Emma countered. “But he’s done what he thinks he has to. I don’t know what you expect me to do.” “Get him to come home.” “He got an apartment in Boston. He’s putting down roots.” “I heard he kept his apartment here too.” “Where are you getting your information?” Emma gasped, trying to decide if she should be impressed or slightly upset that Milah knew so much.

“Have you ever been on the lifestyles floor? They know everything.” “I’ve heard,” Emma groaned.

“They said you two have been together for quite some time.” “Couple of months.” Milah shook her head. “More than that.” “I wouldn’t have labeled it as together from the get-go,” Emma admitted. “But it was something like that.” “Can I ask you another question?”

“I don’t see why not.” “Why didn’t you go with him?” “To Boston?” Milah nodded. “A whole slew of reasons actually, least of all my job. I couldn’t walk away from that. Killian knew that.” “I’m sure he did.” Emma narrowed her eyes, certain she was missing something in this conversation. Milah didn’t say anything else and Emma’s nerves returned in full force.

“He’s not going to come back, you know,” Emma said after a few moments. “We’ve already had this conversation more times than I can count.” “I think Killian might surprise you. It is so obvious how much he loves you.” Emma jerked back quickly, gaping at her. “I saw him for five minutes, after seven years and you know what the first question he asked me was when I told him about Robert?”

Emma shook her head. “He wanted to know if he was going to cut jobs. Said there were important people at The Record who didn’t deserve to get screwed over by Robert. He didn’t ask about his own job once.” “There are plenty of people at this paper,” Emma argued quietly.

“Ah, you forget. I’ve been spending time on the lifestyles floor. It took a few hours to figure out that there was one important person here, at least as far as Killian was concerned. You.”

Emma opened her mouth to say something – anything – but Milah shook her head. There was, apparently, more.

“Robert was going to do it. He was going to cut jobs. He found out Killian was sports editor here and he was determined to cut apart the section. It was all he talked about throughout the sale. But then he bought the paper and the next day Killian walked into the office – right in the middle of a meeting with Isaac – and demanded to talk to Robert.

They were in there for hours , but in the end it just came down to Killian’s job. He walked away. Robert said he wouldn’t cut any of Killian’s staff.” Emma didn’t know what to say.

It wasn’t true.

It couldn’t have been true.

That wasn’t what he had told her.

She shook her head slowly and tried to come up with some kind of intelligent sentence. “That’s not what happened,” Emma mumbled.

Milah smiled sadly at her again. “I promise, Emma, that’s exactly what happened.” “But,” she sputtered. “He told me that he wanted to walk away. To make sure that Gold couldn’t take his job away from him. He was trying to maintain some sort of control.”

“And he was.”

Emma’s head was spinning.

Milah was right. He was maintaining some control. What had he told her? I am taking control of my options before they all get taken from me.

He traded his job for them.

He traded his job for her.

Emma’s hand gripped the ring around her neck instinctively. She felt Milah’s eyes widen as she stared at her. “Is that…” she trailed off, gaping at Emma’s clenched hand.

“Yeah,” Emma whispered.

Milah’s shoulders dropped and she exhaled loudly. “You have to get him to come back, Emma. Somehow.”

“I don’t know how to do that.” “If you love him as much as he loves you,” Milah said, nodding towards the ring. “You’ll figure it out.”

“You knew this whole time?” Emma asked. “That he walked away for us?” “For you,” Milah corrected her immediately. “And, yeah, I did. I wondered if he ever told you.”

“He’d never do that.” “Yeah.” “When are you leaving?”

“End of the week,” Milah said. “I am sorry about all of this, Emma. Everything. I know it may be hard to believe, but I really do want Killian to be happy.” She wasn’t lying.

“I know you do,” Emma answered. “So do I.”

Milah nodded, but they were interrupted before she could say anything else. Jefferson walked into the conference room, eyes landing on Emma immediately.

“Emma!” he said quickly, not noticing Milah at all. “I was looking all over for you. Wanted to touch base on the live-chat for tomorrow’s game and the column on Sunday.”

She took a deep breath and nodded quickly. “Yeah, sure thing,” she said. “I just need to make one phone call before we do that. Can I meet you in your office in like 10?” “Sure,” he replied, flashing an enthusiastic smile and, finally, noticing Milah. “Oh! Mrs. Gold. I didn’t see you in here. How are you?” “I’m fine, Jefferson, thanks.”

He glanced nervously between the two of them before landing on Emma. “I’ll see you in a couple of minutes?”

She nodded, standing up and grabbing her phone off the conference table. “Absolutely.”

Jefferson backed out of the conference room – gone as quickly as he came – and Emma shook her head.

“He’s very enthusiastic,” she said, glancing towards Milah in explanation.

“He’s also terrified Robert will fire him if he doesn’t keep the numbers where they were while Killian was in charge.”

Emma bit her lip – still trying to wrap her mind around the afternoon. “Thank you for telling me. I know you care about him too.”

“I’m glad I met you, Emma,” Milah said. She wasn’t lying about that either.

Emma nodded once. “Me too,” she answered, meaning each letter, before walking off the sports floor and heading out towards the sidewalk on 8th Ave. She stepped into the sea of people, trying to find somewhere she could think. And hear herself on the phone. Emma walked around the building, yanking her phone out as she went and tapped his speed dial, leaning up against the side of the building.

“Hey,” Killian said when he answered. He sounded tired.

“Hey,” Emma answered, voice barely above whisper.

“I can’t hear you Swan, where are you?” “On the sidewalk.”

“Why are you just out on the sidewalk?” “I wanted somewhere to talk.” “And you picked 8th Ave.?”

“I wanted to talk to you without anyone listening. And I figured the tourists weren’t going to eavesdropping on my conversation.”

“You alright, love?” “I love you,” Emma said suddenly, blurting out the words without much thought or warning – just like she had on Thanksgiving.

He laughed softly and it was the first time he sounded genuinely happy in weeks. “I love you too, Swan.”

“Good. That’s good.” “Were you not sure?”

“No, I was,” she said quickly. “I just wanted to make sure you knew too.” “I do,” Killian assured her. “What brought this on?”

“I just wanted to make sure you knew,” Emma repeated.

“And?” “And what?”

“Come on Swan, I know there’s more. Let’s save some time and you just tell me now.” Emma sighed, leaning her head back against the side of the building. “I know you’re upset,” she said slowly.

“I’m not upset,” he objected – far too quickly.

“Killian.”

“What?” His voice was sharp and Emma shut her eyes tightly, sighing again.

“Talk to me.” “We decided not to do the pushing thing.” “I’m not pushing. I’m asking my boyfriend why he’s been upset for the last two months. That seems fair.” Killian made some sort of disgruntled noise in the phone and Emma knew she had won. “Talk,” she said.

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.” “That’s a very pointed opinion.” “And accurate,” Emma argued. “Come on, don’t get mad. I know there’s something going on. You don’t have to lie.”  He didn’t say anything for a few moments, but Emma could hear him take a deep breath. “Talk to me,” she added, a bit softer than before. “You can.” “I know that.” “Then, please, tell me what’s going on.” “It’s not what expected.” “What isn’t?”

“This job. PR. The entire Boston Red Sox organization.” Emma sank against the building, her entire body slouching as she fought off her reaction to the disappointment in his voice. “Yeah, I kind of figured,” she said softly.

“Smart.” “I just know you.” “I know you do, Swan,” Killian answered. “And I know you’ve been worried this whole time. You were right you know.” “About?”

“Everything. It isn’t writing and it’s just all promotion. Everything has to be positive, everything has to have some spin and it is so damn hot here, I can’t even think sometimes.” Emma let out a strangled laugh at his final complaint, heart seizing a bit at the thought that he was upset about the weather.

“I can’t believe you’re mad about the temperature,” she said, shaking her head.

“More the other things if we’re being honest.” “Yeah?” He didn’t answer – just groaned, his frustration getting the better of him. “You could come back,” Emma said quietly, absolutely certain he wouldn’t.

“That’s not an option, love,” he answered, just as quiet as Emma. She wondered quickly how he had managed to hear her when he couldn’t before.

“Tell the Red Sox to fuck off. And kept their Floridian humidity.” “They do come back to Boston eventually.” “And they play in New York a lot,” Emma added, doing her best to sound hopeful.

“Twelve times,” he said. Emma said.

“And you’ll probably need somewhere to stay.” “You think the very wealthy Boston Red Sox won’t provide me with a place to stay, Swan?”

Emma frowned, insecurity washing over her suddenly. That hadn’t been happening very often anymore, but the feeling hit her quickly. “Oh,” she muttered. “Yeah, yeah, that does make sense.”

“Emma,” he said suddenly and her eyes widened, head snapping up. “That’s not what I meant.” “What did you mean?”

“That the very wealthy Boston Red Sox will provide me with a very large, very expensive hotel room that I would be very interested in sharing with you.” “Oh.” “That’s it?” he asked and Emma could hear him smirking.

“That sounds nice.”

“Nice?” he repeated skeptically.

“I’m standing on the middle of the sidewalk,” Emma reasoned. “I can’t provide a detailed list of adjectives on the middle of the sidewalk.” “You said the tourists wouldn’t be eavesdropping.” “Killian,” Emma whined.

“Yes, Swan?” Emma sighed and Kilian just laughed into the phone. “It’s almost over,” he continued. “They’re almost done with spring training and then I’ll be back. Not home, but back-ish.” Emma pressed her back against the stone behind her when he called New York home and focused on keeping his good mood in tact. “Back-ish is better than Florida,” she said.

“I think so,” Killian agreed. “And you’ve got games in Boston.” “And clothes, too.” “A whole side of the closet if you want.”

“I don’t know if I have enough clothes for two closets in two different cities.” “We’ll make it work,” he said and Emma heard the determination in his voice, certain he was saying much more than just a few words.

“I’ve got faith.” “Yeah?” “In you.” Killian took a deep breath and Emma wished he was there, wished she could kiss him and tell him she knew , she knew what he did and he didn’t have to give up anything else for her. “Thank you Swan,” he said.

“I love you,” Emma said again.

“I love you too. And, for the record, I’ve got faith in you too.” “Really?”

“Boatloads,” he said and Emma scoffed. “I’m serious, Swan. It’s going to be ok. This was my choice, right? I’ll make it work.” Emma sighed and wrapped her arms around her, trying to stay warm. “You’re very determined. And very stubborn.”

“Just when it comes to you.” “Jeez,” Emma groaned.

“That’s romantic, love.” “Yuh huh.”

Someone yelled for him in the background and Killian sighed. “Duty calls, Swan,” he said, sarcasm coming through the phone in waves.

“Go,” Emma answered, doing her best to sound supportive. “I told Jefferson I’d meet him to talk column ideas 20 minutes ago.” “Skirting authority?” “I don’t know that I really see Jefferson as an authority.” “Hey,” Killian said suddenly. “You’re doing great, you know. The columns are fantastic. And you almost a made a basket in that last video.” Emma smiled. “Thanks.” “Go talk to Jefferson, love. Don’t want you getting in trouble.” “I’ll do my best to stay in line.” “Good. It’s going to get better Swan.” “I believe you.” “That’s all I ask.”