#usually I am at least mostly but today it just hit like a truck (unfair. do not like.)

[skyward-floored]

...So do you and Smiles and everyone else in the same boat wanna vibe over being single and unbothered with Mystery Link, find healing despite being unwillingly single with Hemisi, watch glumly alongside Legend as Sky acts lovey dovey with Sun, plan out the perfect convenient marriage with Lullaby, or forget boyfriends and marriage even exist alongside Wild's sister, Lyra?

I'm kind of leaning towards Hemisi myself XD

Whatever you're in the mood for, all of those sound find to me XD

[frauleinsmaria]

Signed, Sealed, Delivered {1/1}

Summary: Emma is frustrated with where she's at in life, and even more frustrated with her job as a retail manager. Killian is the UPS driver who starts making deliveries at her workplace. And maybe, somehow, their brief interactions every week mean more to each other than they ever expected.

Rated T, includes references to sexual misconduct.

A/N: Kicking off @csseptembersunshine with this story I’ve been sitting on for a while! Just for clarification, the premise was based on my job as a retail manager, and the sleazy UPS driver I have to deal with on a regular basis. So, of course, I had to write a fic where Emma is me but instead gets the hot, polite driver me and my coworkers have always wanted. I know it’s a little weird, but I am pretty proud of the end result, and I hope you enjoy reading it!

Major thanks to @thejollyroger-writer and @scientificapricot for providing beta duties, @shireness-says for the title and the store name (I’m letting you name everything for me now), and @let-it-raines for bringing up the “frost yourself” thing and inspiring the rom-com element. You’re all fantastic humans, and I appreciate you immensely. 

Also on AO3

-/-

Tuesdays were the worst. That’s how everyone seemed to feel about Mondays, but Emma didn’t mind those quite so much. After getting her one guaranteed day off every week on Sunday, it was a bit easier to come into work the next morning, semi-well rested and ready for a new week.

The same couldn’t be said for Tuesdays, though. Retail was far from booming at the first of the week (which Emma understood; shopping wasn’t exactly high on her list of priorities until the weekend.) Any project Elsa or Anna gave her to work on was usually simple and completed within a relatively short amount of time. So that often left her with far too much time with nothing to do but refold the same shirts, wipe down the same counters, and scroll through the same posts on her Instagram feed while waiting for business to come or her shift to end.

Emma was grateful for her job at Crystalline. She’d been looking for a new job for almost six months when Mary Margaret suggested she reach out to the Frost sisters to ask if they needed an additional cashier at their boutique during the previous holiday season. And after working there for three months, Elsa and Anna offered her a promotion to become their assistant manager. She hadn’t hesitated before accepting. Not only would the position come with a small raise, but also additional responsibilities to help her feel like she had a purpose in a season of life that seemed so monotonous and uncertain.

Turns out, though, there weren’t really a lot of added responsibilities she didn’t already have as a cashier. Sure, she had a key to the store and acted as the manager on duty for a few hours every day before or after Elsa and Anna’s shifts. And she could tell one of the part-time employees to do something and be taken a bit more seriously. Sometimes. But unless it was around a holiday or a weekend that brought in a significant amount of business, Emma found herself spending most of the day trying to conceal her boredom. The store was a typical boutique that sold mostly women’s clothes, shoes, and accessories, meaning there were significantly less tasks and responsibilities than she’d have being a manager at a corporate store.

The store had been open for less than an hour, and she was on her third cup of her coffee and hot cocoa mix since arriving earlier to open. It was only she and Jasmine working this morning, since Anna had taken the day off to celebrate her husband’s birthday with him, and Elsa didn’t come in until after lunch since she would be closing tonight.

Emma took her thermos to the front of the store and propped herself up against a rack of overpriced shirts. (They sold few things in Crystalline that she could afford at full price. Thank goodness for her employee discount at least.) It was her typical method of trying to look like an attentive supervisor when she was too tired to walk around or even stand straight up. No one had yet to call her out on it, which she took as a sign she was doing something right.

Jasmine stood in the middle of the sales floor by the cash registers, dusting and wiping down every surface regardless of whether it actually needed to be done. Emma hadn’t had the heart to tell her she was saving that as part of her personal list of things to do to keep her preoccupied later when Jasmine left for the day. But they’d had a grand total of two customers since opening, a pair of older ladies who looked around for approximately thirty seconds before leaving. She couldn’t blame Jasmine for wanting to stay busy.

While Jasmine dusted the jewelry counters, Emma sipped her now lukewarm drink and composed a mental list of everything that needed to be taken care of after work. A trip to the grocery store was unavoidable; she’d put it off for too long now and had been stuck with peanut butter crackers for breakfast as a result. The clothes she’d washed and dried the day before needed to be folded and put away. And she needed to write. Even if it was only a few hundred words based off of a random prompt she found online. Something was better than nothing, and nothing was all she’d done lately when it came to any of her stories.

“Five hundred words,” she muttered to herself. “You just write five hundred words tonight, and you can start the new season of Queer Eye.” Priorities. Some days she had to take motivation wherever she could find it.

The next half hour or so elapsed with little activity other than overhearing Leroy yell at Deputy Humbert across the street over what sounded like a parking ticket. It was mid July, and Emma could make out the sweat beading on Leroy’s brow if she concentrated enough. (At least she did have the bonus of being in an air conditioned space all day.)

To be fair, he knew damn well not to park his truck in front of a fire hydrant. Part of Emma couldn’t help but feel for Graham as Leroy hurled insults at him, even though thinking about him came with an inevitable feeling of discomfort now. The two of them had gone out a handful of times a few months prior. Each date had been a bit worse than the last as she came to realize she had zero romantic interest whatsoever for Graham, but hadn’t known how to say as much without hurting him. The moment she came clean was incredibly awkward, and he had avoided her ever since, something easier said than done in a small town. It didn’t help that she was close friends with the sheriff and his wife, meaning Graham was often mentioned when David shared recent stories about work at their weekly dinners together.

Her attention was taken away from Leroy and Graham with the arrival of the UPS truck outside. Emma sat her coffee to the side and went to prop open the door for the driver, more than familiar with this routine after her seven months on the job. They received deliveries several times a week, packages containing everything from new merchandise to supplies and equipment for the store. The days on which these deliveries happened varied by the order date and shipping location, but they almost always took place later in the morning following any drop-offs to Dark Star pharmacy and Storybrooke’s Animal Shelter up the road.

Emma heard the truck’s back door open as she used her foot to set up the door stopper. She hoped today’s drop off would be quick. Over the past few months, deliveries had been made by the same man —  Walsh, she thought she remembered hearing — who went out of his way to hit on her, calling her “baby” and “sweetheart” and sticking around to make uncomfortable conversation that she wanted no part in.

She’d come close to calling him out for it several times. Telling him “Ms. Swan is just fine, thank you,” or that she needed to get back to work. But it was the fact that she was working that always stopped her. There were a number of ways he could react to being told off. She had learned the hard way how badly men could react if their advances were rejected. Emma was hesitant to cause a scene in front of customers, despite knowing Elsa and Anna would take her side should anything happen. The joys of being a woman in retail.

Stepping back from the door, she glanced up to see the man pushing a hand truck stacked with boxes in her direction. The reluctant “Good morning” she’d prepared for Walsh died on her lips as she took him in. Because this wasn’t Walsh.

The man wearing the standard brown button up and matching pants had never made a delivery to the store, at least not during one of her shifts. She would have remembered his head of dark, messy hair and blue eyes that met her own as he reached the store’s entrance.

“Good morning, lass.”

Of course he would be English to boot. It was almost unfair.

“Morning,” she replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

“This is my first run in this part of town, but I do believe I’m at the right place.”

“If it’s 723G Greene Street, then it’s ours.” She noticed the familiar logo printed on the side of the cardboard boxes. “Unless there’s another clothing store I don’t know about nearby that also sells Steve Madden.” This must have been the new sneakers Elsa mentioned ordering a few weeks earlier.

“Aye. What I saw of the pharmacy and the animal shelter makes me think anything here wouldn’t fit well.” He gestured around the storefront. “Where would you like these?”

Emma stepped back and nodded to an open space at the window. “Here’s fine. We’ll probably need to make some room in the back office before they’ll fit with the rest of the new inventory.”

It was difficult not to stare while he stacked the boxes up where she’d indicated, the fitted uniform showing off the taut muscles in his arms and shoulders. (The pants suited him too. Not that she’d admit to paying attention.) When he’d finished, he unclipped a device from his belt and offered it to her. She’d done this enough times to know how it worked, quickly using the attached pen to scribble her last name on the blank line before handing it back.

“Thank you, Miss,” he glanced down at what she’d written, “Swan.” He smiled back up at Emma. “Quite the unique surname.”

She didn’t respond, only smiled politely as he clipped the device back to his belt and turned with the hand truck in the direction of the open door. It was better than, Thanks, I chose it myself, which was all she could think of to say. Not the best can of worms to open with a stranger.

He paused just before stepping out the door and turned back to Emma. “Perhaps I’ll be seeing you again? For future deliveries, I mean,” he added when her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Oh. Yeah. Maybe.” Such a smooth talker she was.

The man gave her a quick nod before exiting the store, a long list of delivery stops probably awaiting him. Emma watched from the window as he climbed back into his truck and drove off, disappearing around the corner.

Part of her mind was preoccupied with the fact that she’d never seen a UPS truck with its doors closed before. Shouldn’t that be a safety hazard? It was more than likely time efficient for deliveries, but she wasn’t sure if there was a point in saving time if your life was going to be threatened in the process. Storybrooke had its own breed of crazy drivers too.

The other part hoped the driver was right about seeing her again.

Emma thought about him more than she would like to admit over the next few days. The lilt of his accent, the lines around his eyes that crinkled when he’d smiled at her. She felt more than a little ridiculous for noticing such specific details after a single encounter lasting all of five minutes. If only she could have that level of concentration when it came to writing. She’d gone home that night and tried to muster up a few hundred words of something, anything. Instead she had stared at the blank screen in front of her and questioned if there was even any point.

Regardless, it was a poor decision to even give him more thought. She reminded herself of this as she went through her usual routine to open Crystalline again on Friday morning. The only information she had on the man was what he did for a living, and a vague idea of where he was from if the accent was anything to go by. For all she knew, he lived a nice, white-picket fence life with a partner, a few kids, and maybe a dog.

(He looked like a dog person. Emma believed that was something you could easily determine.)

And yet her pulse did something she refused to acknowledge when he entered the store around the same time that he’d come on Tuesday. There were several packages today, at least four or five stacked on the hand truck he pulled in behind him.

Emma approached him as he stacked the boxes at the normal spot by the window. “So you did make it back after all.”

He glanced up and her and smiled. “Indeed. It appears from the looks of it that this area is going to be part of my regular route for the time being. I hope that’s alright with you,” he added, one eyebrow inching toward his hairline. There was a hint of teasing in his remark, although it seemed to be genuine too.

It was more than alright with her eyes. Her nervous system, maybe not so much. “I think we can manage that. If you can deal with all this excitement.” She gestured to the empty store. He was the first person to enter that day besides Elsa and herself an hour earlier.

The smile on his face remained, thankfully. It would have been awkward had he not understood her sarcasm; that happened with Walsh a few times. “Sounds tricky. But I do love a challenge.”

Emma struggled with a response but came up short. If only he knew how many challenges she could present.

“Crystalline, eh?” he asked, glancing around the store. “Interesting choice. It means having the structure and form of a crystal, right?”

Was he a walking dictionary or something? “Uh, yeah, I think so. The owners’ last name is Frost, and they wanted to name the store something that went with it, so, like, ice crystals.”

“I see. It’s certainly an easy name for me to remember.”

“When Elsa first hired me, I made the joke that they should have gone with Frost Yourself since we sell jewelry, but she didn’t get the reference until I showed her a clip from the movie.”

“How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days?” he answered, as if on cue.

It seemed this man was full of surprises. “That’s the one.” What were the chances that she’d come across a guy who shared her love for mediocre rom coms from the early 2000s? She’d tried to watch Love Actually with Graham once; he’d yawned the whole time.

A moment of silence passed between them. Emma looked down at the device she still held and realized he was waiting for her to sign for the delivery. Of course he wasn’t standing there to make idle conversation, he had a job to get back to. Like the last time, she quickly signed on the screen and returned the device to him.

“Have a nice day, Miss Swan.”

“You too, um—” she paused, not wanting to call him “UPS guy” to his face.

“Killian Jones.” She took his hand when he offered it. But instead of shaking hers, he briefly brought it to his lips.

Emma took a sharp intake of breath that she hoped wasn’t audible. The only time she’d ever seen a man kiss a woman’s hand was in one of those period movies Mary Margaret made her watch every now and then.  

But she didn’t necessarily mind it. Maybe more men should take notes from their predecessors. Or rather, the actors playing them. Technicalities.

“Right. You too. Have a nice day, that is.”

He flashed her another smile before leaving. Emma watched him return to his truck, not hearing the footsteps coming up behind her.

“I didn’t realize we were getting so friendly with the new UPS driver.”

She jumped and turned to see Elsa, who sported a knowing grin. “Clearly that paperwork didn’t take as long to get through as you’d expected.”

“No, and I’m glad,” said Elsa. “Otherwise I would have missed your little interaction just now.”

“What was there to miss? He just dropped off a few packages, one of which I hope is wrapping paper refills. Regina wasn’t exactly nice a few days ago when I explained that we only had two options for her to choose from, and neither were red.”

“She should just be grateful she got it wrapped for free. Beggars can’t be choosers. But back to my point,” Elsa continued. “He kissed your hand, and you looked like you wanted to devour him.”

Oh no. “Did I really?”

“I don’t blame you; he’s gorgeous. Although I can’t exactly allow said devouring to take place on the sales floor, even though it would probably add some much needed excitement to our day.”

“Ha ha.” She hope Elsa wouldn’t notice her cheeks reddening; it would only make the teasing worse. And she had been one of the few people who never tried to set Emma up with someone or meddle in her love life. “Don’t even get started with me about Killian, though. He’s just our UPS driver. I’ll probably see him for a collective five minutes a week max.”

“If you say so. But if you have a chance at any time during those five minutes, can you find out if he has a brother?”

Anna’s head popped up from behind the shoe fixture she’d been reorganizing. “Who has a brother? Is he cute?”

“You’re married,” Emma and Elsa reminded her in unison.

Anna rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a nice face. I’ll make it a point to be lurking the next time I see him come by.”

Despite Elsa’s insistence, the chances of finding out anything else about Killian during his deliveries were minimal. Something told Emma it wasn’t a great idea to play twenty questions while he was trying to unload packages.

At least she had a name to put with the face now. A very nice face (thanks, Anna) that she thought about often that night while she ate pretzels and watched Pride & Prejudice without any prompting from Mary Margaret. She even added a few paragraphs to one of her old short story drafts afterward. Maybe something was changing.

But even if the perceptions she’d inadvertently made were inaccurate, even if she knew more about him (or even knew him well), that didn’t mean getting to know him more than necessary was the best idea for either of them. She already received enough pity or disdain — sometimes both —from everyone else in Storybrooke. The girl who moved back home after a horrendous breakup no one knew the details of. The unsuccessful college student who’d dropped out her junior year to find herself working retail to keep a roof over her head. If only they knew.

So, yes, it was better to keep her distance. No matter what her pulse did when she saw him approaching. Or when he’d kissed her hand. Distance was best for everyone.

But distance was tricky to maintain when someone frequently came to the place where she spent most of her time. Killian made deliveries twice the following week, and three times during the one after. (Thankfully, those deliveries always happened while Elsa and Anna were busy elsewhere.) Each of their additional encounters were similar to the first, brief but with enough friendly conversation that only made her want to know more about him: What made him start driving with UPS? When had he moved to America and why? What did he like to binge watch on Netflix? Was he single?

That last question wasn’t one Emma truly needed answered. She was just curious. They were getting somewhat friendly, and friends knew these things about each other. Didn’t they?

Regardless, something about Killian Jones captivated her in a way she couldn’t explain. And she wasn't sure just how to feel about it.

As summer ended, the new fall merchandise quickly began arriving. Their tank tops and sandals were replaced with sweaters and boots Killian brought in, not to mention beanies, scarves, and jackets Emma knew she would take advantage of once the temperature dropped. On one of the first cool mornings, Killian made his delivery wearing a standard UPS jacket over his regular uniform. How he still managed to make the bulky brown option look good was something she couldn’t understand.

The two of them continued to make casual conversation when he came by, often on a number of different topics depending on the day. There was one Wednesday morning she’d worn a blush colored blouse and he made the comment that he was glad she’d remembered to wear pink. And another day when something he said reminded her of that one quote from Legally Blonde. It seemed he shared her affinity for 2000s rom coms after all. She would have to ask him about that sometime when she wasn’t overthinking every one of their interactions.

One of the biggest downfalls to retail was working almost every weekend. Emma seldom, if ever, had a Friday night or Saturday free without requesting to be off several weeks in advance. She didn’t always mind. It wasn’t as if she had a long list of prospective plans to keep her busy. And even when she did have to work, her friends occasionally talked her into doing something after the store closed, regardless of how exhausted she was or how much she’d be kicking herself for it in the morning.

Her free Saturday in October just so happened to be the weekend of Ruby’s thirtieth birthday. Her friend typically liked to do something big for the day, like a trip down to Boston or New York. This year, however, Ruby had surprised everyone by asking that they meet up at The Rabbit Hole. Her and Mulan’s wedding was the next Sunday, and they both were too swamped with the last of the wedding planning for her to feel up to doing more.

Emma found herself sitting between Mulan and Belle at the large table they’d chosen in the middle of the bar, sipping at her drink as her friends teased Ruby about being another year older.

“You do realize you’re two years older than she is, don’t you?” she reminded David after he made a joke about people in their thirties, which also should have applied to him.

He shrugged. “That’s beside the point. It’s not my birthday.”

“No. But it will be in three months, which means I’m gonna start preparing all kinds of old man jokes for you now.”

“Why do I have the feeling my wife is going to join you on that?”

“Because I most definitely am,” Mary Margaret piped up from her seat on his other side.

As much as she preferred staying home in front of the TV on her nights off, Emma had to admit it was nice getting to go out and have fun without waking up early for work the next morning. Most of the people who’d shown up to celebrate Ruby were ones she hadn’t seen in far too long.

It was hard to ignore how Graham insisted on keeping his distance from her, sitting at the far end of the table and looking away if she merely glanced in his general direction. But if that was how he chose to act, then fine. She’d done her best to break things off as amicably as possible; it wasn’t her fault he’d chosen to become so bitter.

They’d been at the bar a little over an hour when two men entered the room. The one in front, blue eyed with dark curly hair, glanced over at their table, a look of recognition in his eyes when he caught sight of David. Her friend waved him over, and it was only when he started approaching that Emma got a look at the person he’d arrived with.

“Killian?”

He did a double take when he saw her, eyes widening before his lips parted into a wide grin. “Hello, Swan.”

The other man paused in the middle of the conversation he’d just started with David and looked between the two of them. “Little brother, you two know each other?”

Emma could see the resemblance now that the relationship was clarified: Killian and his brother didn’t look identical by any means, but they had they same defined cheekbones and blue eyes, although Killian’s were still bluer somehow, probably a result of the dark blue button down shirt he wore.

(It was a bit odd to see him in something besides his standard brown uniform. Not that she was complaining. Not at all.)

“Liam, you ought to know by now that there are few people in town I haven't made deliveries to at some point or another. Emma works at Crystalline.”

“The one the Frost sisters own?” It was hard to miss the way the man — Liam, she supposed — perked up at the mention of her bosses.

“Yes, that’s the one Elsa owns, since I know that’s what you were really asking.”

Well, this was interesting. Elsa had no idea that she was onto something when she’d joked about Killian having a brother.

She turned back to David and Liam. “So, how do you two know each other?”

“Liam’s daughter is in Leo’s class at school,” David explained. “I hear stories about Harper every day. He loves her.”

“Bloody hell, don’t tell me that! I thought I had at least another decade before she and I would have to discuss boys.”

The two of them continued to chat about their children while Emma became fixated on Killian again. She wanted to say something to him, but what? That it was nice to see him outside of her workplace? She hated forced small talk and didn’t want to trap either of them in an awkward conversation.

She went back to what David had just said about Liam having a daughter, and the comments he and Killian had made that hinted he was interested in Elsa. A quick glance at his left hand showed that he wasn’t wearing a ring, but that didn’t necessarily mean much. Could she broach the subject to Killian without appearing to cross a line? Elsa may be her boss, but Emma also considered her a friend. Maybe she was sticking her nose where it didn’t belong, but she’d want someone to do the same for her and spot any potential red flags.

Emma’s train of thought was broken by Mulan getting up and walking over to the jukebox. Soon, the opening notes of “Single Ladies” played from the speakers, and Mulan came back over to drag Ruby to dance.

Emma glanced back at Killian. He looked somewhat shy standing there alone, one hand in the front pocket of his jeans and the other scratching behind his ear. Liam had clearly abandoned him for a conversation with David, probably discussing Leo’s intentions with his daughter.

“You can have a seat if you want,” she told him, nodding to the now empty seat beside her. “Something tells me the lovebirds won’t be coming back any time soon.”

“Something tells me you’re right. I’d hate to be a bother though,” he added, seeming to notice the space (or lack thereof) between the now empty seat and her own.

“No bother. Plus, the bar stools here are ridiculously uncomfortable.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

It wasn’t until he sat down beside her that Emma was aware of just how tightly the chairs had been packed around their small table. Killian’s right thigh and shoulder were nearly pressed against her own. It normally would not have been a situation she’d object to, but she now realized how much personal space she was sharing with an attractive man she barely knew (and had embarrassed herself in front of on at least one occasion.)

“I can’t get over the irony of Mulan choosing a song that basically celebrates being single to dance with her fiancee to,” Emma blurted out when it occurred to her. “And a few weeks before their wedding at that.”

“Something tells me she’s too inebriated to care considering they’ve made their own dance floor in a bar that doesn’t actually have one.”

“Touche.”

They both laughed. Maybe making conversation with him outside of work was easier than she’d assumed.  

“I take it you have the night off?” he asked. “Not to sound intrusive; I just noticed the list of store hours on one of my last deliveries.”

“I do. Saturday’s off are few and far between for me, so I try to make the most of them. Tonight, that’s celebrating my friend’s birthday even though she’s clearly done paying attention to any of us.” They both glanced back over at Mulan and Ruby, who had started slow dancing in the middle of the room. Emma wouldn’t be surprised if they made an excuse to leave soon, Ruby’s birthday celebration be damned.

“I understand about your weekends,” said Killian. “I’m lucky enough to have a fairly regular work schedule, but Liam is an ER nurse on top of being a single father, so his free time is quite limited. He’s great at his job and an even better dad, but I like to make sure he gets to go out and do something for his own enjoyment every now and then.”

His comment about Liam being single cleared her earlier suspicion. She didn’t feel comfortable asking what had happened to his niece’s mother, so they discussed the child herself instead. Emma learned that Harper was four years old and already a spitfire, keeping both Liam and Killian on their toes at any given moment. She found out that the two of them had moved from England to the States as teenagers, where Liam went to nursing school and Killian enlisted in the Navy.

“How long have you been driving?”

“About two years. I did some truck driving in the Navy and was able to get my CDL while I was still enlisted. It wasn’t my dream career field by any means, but it paid decently, not to mention it wouldn’t keep me confined to the same cubicle or office all week long. I applied at UPS because I didn’t like the idea of being gone for days at a time on a regular basis. This way, I get most weekends and holidays off, and have an idea of what time I’ll arrive home every night.”

“Seems like you’ve got a decent arrangement there then.”

“Aye. I like having a consistent schedule most of the time. The driving helps clear my head when I need it to.” He paused and Emma saw what looked like a frown tugging at the corner of his lips. “But enough about me. I’ve gathered next to nothing about you so far. Well, other than the fact that I interrupt your work day at least twice per week, sometimes more, but I don’t think that counts.”

He clearly didn’t want to discuss whatever it was driving helped clear his head from. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. If I’m being honest, your ‘interruptions’ are a nice, albeit brief, distraction from the monotony that just causes me to question what I’m doing there.”

The frown reappeared. “You don’t like your job?”

“I wouldn’t say I dislike it. Elsa and Anna are great. It’s nice knowing I get the same day off every week. And I save forty-two percent on my shoes.”

“But?”

She shrugged. “I mean, that’s about it. Nothing ever happens. It’s not that we don’t get business or anything, but it’s not the kind of store people feel the need to come into on a regular basis, like Target or something. I spend most of my shift being bored. Which really just gives me more time to think about where I’m at in life — more like where I’m not at in life —  and how unfulfilled I am with, well, everything.”

She hadn’t expected to open that can of worms tonight, but once she started, it was hard to hold back everything she’d been keeping to herself for months now.

“I take it retail wasn’t your first choice when it came to finding a career?”

“Far from it.” She laughed dryly. “I was a creative writing major in college. So many people in Storybrooke gave me hell about it, said I’d never be able to do anything with my degree. But I didn’t care. I just loved writing and knew that’s what I wanted to do with my life. Until my junior year anyway.”

“What happened then?”

“I took an upper level Writing Fiction course during the fall semester. I was really excited about it because the professor was a fairly successful author, and I’d always had a conflict with another class before that kept me from taking anything with him. To make a long story short, the class was great at first. I got along well with the professor, and he seemed to like the projects I turned in for him. He liked my boyfriend’s projects even more.”

She forced down the lump forming in her throat and took a quick sip of her beer. Talking about Neal became a bit less difficult over time, but that didn’t mean it was easy either. “He was a writing student too. We met sophomore year in an intro creative writing course. I fell for him right away despite all the warning signs: he cut class a lot, was disrespectful to me — to all women, for that matter — and thought he could get away with anything because his dad was loaded. But, despite all this, he told me he loved me. And I fell for it.

“Anyway, back to the class we had together. I noticed every now and then that the professor would make a comment or say something overly friendly that felt a lot like flirting. I never brought it up with Neal outside of class since I thought he’d tell me I was overreacting.” Emma now saw the fact that she thought that way about him should have been a red flag in itself. “So, the end of the semester comes around. Our final was to write a short story. We turned them in to him before classes ended and then were supposed to come by his office during finals week to pick them up to see our grade and hear any comments he had for us.”

She paused to take a long sip of her drink. She had told this story a handful of times since it happened, but the next part never got much easier to share. “I went by as soon as his office hours started. I had worked really hard on the story I submitted — like, spent weeks planning and pulled several all-nighters to write hard. Anyway, I get to his office and he tells me to take a seat. I figured he wanted to talk to me about the story. And he did...for a few minutes anyway.”

Killian listened as she told him about the professor quickly changing the subject and talking instead about how much he'd enjoyed having Emma as part of his class. How he'd enjoyed it so much that he came over and put a hand on her knee while making the comment that he thought he would enjoy having her in other environments too. “I bolted. I was so scared of what he might do; I never even found out what my grade was. Not that it really mattered in retrospect.”

“Bloody wanker,” Killian muttered. “I’m glad you got away from him when you did. What happened after that?”

“I went to Neal. I ran straight to his apartment and told him everything, thinking he would at least try to, y’know, help me or be supportive or something.” Emma shook her head and laughed dryly. To think she was naive enough to think he’d react differently than he actually did. “He accused me of making it all up. He said I was jealous that he and the professor got on so well, and that I came up with a story to have attention on me instead. To top it all off, he said I was a shitty writer who would never amount to anything outside of school.”

There was a sour expression on Killian’s face. “Please tell me you broke up with him.”

“I did.” She sighed and smiled sadly to herself. “The damage was done though. I withdrew from school and left the city as soon as I could. I came back to Storybrooke and had intended to only stay for a few months and then reapply somewhere else, but I never got around to it for one reason or another.” One reason being the fear of being stuck with another sleazy professor. Another being how she’d constantly questioned her potential as a writer since those comments from Neal. She wasn’t sure she could risk the time, energy, and funds required to go back to school if it was all just going to crash and burn for her in the end. It was also why making progress on any story had felt like pulling teeth ever since.

She hated that he and his words still got to her like they did almost eight years later.

“I’m sorry you were treated so terribly in both circumstances. Truly.” Something about the way his eyes softened as she’d spoken made her believe he wasn’t just speaking out of pity. It seemed that he genuinely cared. “And perhaps I’m overstepping here since I’m simply the man who makes deliveries to your workplace, but from what I’ve gathered over the past few weeks, you appear to be a strong, compassionate, and capable woman who can do anything she sets her mind to. Whether it be venturing into another career field or going back to school, I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s best for you and do it well.”

Emma stared at him for a moment, too dumbfounded to speak. She had just poured her heart out to a man who still felt like little more than an acquaintance. And yet he wasn’t judging her, criticizing her, or even looking at her like she’d lost her mind, and she would have normally expected as much. But Killian seemed to get it: her past and her fears that the future would be no different.  

She found herself thinking that maybe Killian Jones had come to understand her more during their first lengthy conversation than anyone else had in years.

The idea didn’t scare her nearly as much as it once would have.

As fate would have it, Killian came by Crystalline with a delivery first thing the following Monday morning. She’d spent most of the weekend both taking his words to heart and wondering if he’d act differently after their conversation. But, to her relief, he entered the store with the same smile on his face she’d become used to seeing with his arrival.

“Good morning, Swan.”

“Morning. What have you got for us today?” There were three or four boxes stacked on his hand truck.

“Oh, this is just the first load. There’s at least seven more where those came from.”

Emma quickly helped him move the boxes to their normal waiting place by the door while he went to retrieve the rest of their packages. She knew the rest of their winter merchandise for the holidays was supposed to arrive soon, but she hadn’t expected so much of it to come at once. She, Elsa, and Anna were going to have a whole lot of fun sorting it out over the next few days.

She stood there feeling somewhat awkward as he finished unloading, wanting to say something to him about the other night at the bar, but not knowing exactly what. She was still contemplating it when she signed for the delivery. “What do you call this thing, anyway?” she asked. “I’ve just been calling it ‘UPS device thing’ in my head, but I’m sure there’s a technical term for it.”

Killian chuckled. “It’s called a diad. Stands for Delivery Information Acquisition Device — so you weren’t too far off.”

“Huh. Maybe I should come work with you then, considering I already know so much about how things work.”

“I’d certainly prefer you to some of the ride alongs I’ve had before. Remind me to tell you about what happened on Will Scarlet’s first day sometime.”

“Will do,” she confirmed, handing the device —  diad —  back to Killian. He clipped it back to his belt and was turning to leave when she spoke up. “Killian?”

“Yes, love?”

“Are we friends? Sorry,” she continued when his eyebrow shot up to his hairline. “It’s just that we see each other pretty regularly and I actually enjoy our conversations, and you let me spill my guts to you Saturday night without judging me and that seems like something a friend would do. But for all I know, you might not even want to be my friend. Which makes this really awkward and—”

“Hey,” he interrupted. “I would like nothing more than to be friends with you, Swan. Truthfully, I’ve thought of you as a friend for some time now. And it’s nice —  no one else I know has the same penchant for cocoa and romantic comedies.”

“I’m one of a kind, I guess.”

“That you are.”

“Will I see you at the wedding this weekend?”

“Aye. Liam and I will both be attending, him more so not to let Ruby down.” Another fact Emma had learned at the bar was that Liam and Ruby were classmates in nursing school and had remained friends since. “Weddings haven’t exactly been one of his favorite social events since Harper’s mother passed.”

Emma’s heart sank. She’d never been married, but could only imagine what it felt like to attend an event where people celebrated the very thing you’d lost. It may have stung when Neal turned his back on her, but she knew it had to be worse when someone was taken away unexpectedly, leaving you to wonder how much more time you could have had together.

“I get that,” she told Killian. “He’s really lucky to have you around, though.”

The responding smile he gave her didn’t reach his eyes. He glanced back to the stack of boxes he’d brought instead. “Yes, well. If that’s the last of it, I’m afraid I have to keep going. Goodbye, Swan.”

Emma stood there frozen and perplexed as she watched him go. Had something she said about him or Liam that struck a nerve? The thought nagged at her over the next few days, causing her to wonder if she’d unknowingly caused some kind of problem just minutes after confirming their friendship.

But when he arrived for their next delivery on Thursday morning, he was himself, charming and witty as ever. Emma was glad to see him act as if nothing had changed, but she knew there was much left to learn about Killian Jones.

Ruby and Mulan’s wedding took place on Sunday afternoon in the yard behind their house. The space had been adorned with fall decor in various shades of orange, yellow, and of course, Ruby’s signature red. The ceremony itself was simple, no wedding party or long introduction from the officiant. But the vows were touching and heartfelt. Emma found herself wiping her eyes more than once at both women’s words, and then again when they were pronounced as each other’s wives.

The reception that followed the ceremony, however, was anything but simple. There was a great deal of food, music, and alcohol, not unlike the celebration they’d had for Ruby’s birthday the weekend before. There was, however, a makeshift dance floor set up in the yard, where the brides once again ignored everyone else while they alternated between slow dancing and spinning each other around in circles. (Funny enough, no one was playing “Single Ladies” this time.)

Emma sat at one of the round tables placed around the dance floor, eating what may or may not have been her second slice of wedding cake while she and her girl friends chatted about a handful of different things: the recipe Mary Margaret had recently found for chocolate coconut brownies, what they’d each been watching on Netflix, and the town’s upcoming fall festival.

“Speaking of approaching events, I do believe someone has a birthday soon,” said Belle, glancing toward Emma, a warm smile on her face.

She wasn’t sure whether to smile back or sigh in defeat. Her birthday was on Wednesday, but it wasn’t something she enjoyed celebrating nearly as much as someone like Ruby or her other friends. And everyone knew this, although their knowledge on the reason why was minimal.

What was the point in celebrating a day that only reminded her of what she didn’t have? Because, in spite of any gifts or attention her friends might try to shower her with, she was never able to focus on anything but what the day signified and the questions she may never have answers to. The main one being why was she abandoned outside of Storybrooke just after (if not on) the day in question.

She forced down the lump quickly forming in her throat. Her friends’ wedding was the last place she wanted to reopen those old wounds. “I need more punch!” she announced, getting to her feet. “Anyone else?” Not waiting to hear anyone’s answers, she took her mostly full cup to the punch bowl at a table on the other side of the yard.

Emma topped off her drink and grabbed a handful of crackers she didn’t actually want just to appear preoccupied. She didn’t feel up for going back to her seat just yet.

Then it hit her: she had yet to come across Killian or his brother. Hadn’t he said they were coming?

A hand tapped Emma’s shoulder just as she began looking through the crowd for a familiar face. She turned to see bright blue eyes and that smile she’d become so partial to. “Hello, Swan.”

All of the tension seemed to leave her when he said her name. “Hey, Killian.” He wore a well-fitting navy suit with a crisp white shirt. How he kept finding things to wear that made his eyes look even more blue was lost to her. “Nice ceremony, huh?”

“Aye. I believe that was the most enthusiastic kiss I’ve ever witnessed at a wedding.”

“This is Ruby we’re talking about. There was little chance of her keeping things PG, wedding or not.”

“A valid point.”

He looked over to her friends’ table where she’d been sitting earlier. “I hope I’m not keeping you from your friends. I’d been looking for you and wanted to speak while I had a moment.”

“No, you’re not. I was honestly trying to avoid them. Let’s just say they’d brought up a subject I wasn’t up for discussing today,” she continued at his questioning look‍.

“That’s certainly understandable. In that case, I’m willing to distract you for as long as you may need it.”

“Okay, weird question. Your brother’s here, right?”

“He is. Although I’m not quite sure why you think that’s an odd thing to ask.”

“Well, that’s what I was getting to. I got the idea at The Rabbit Hole last week that he has a thing for Elsa?”

“That’s an understatement. Liam has been absolutely smitten since he was introduced to her at the Miner’s Day celebration back in the spring. But I don’t believe he’s made much of an effort to get to know her. He’s never come out and said as much to me, but thanks to a few bad experiences he’s had with dating over the past few years, it seems he thinks that she wouldn’t be interested since he has a child.’

She wasn’t sure just how to respond to that, mostly because she understood. The more a person had lost and been hurt, the harder it became to open your heart back up to something (or, in this case, someone) new again. And, truly, she didn’t know how Elsa would feel about potentially dating a single father. But she did know that both she and Liam deserved to be happy.

“I obviously can't speak for Elsa or her feelings, but I can put in a good word for Liam if you don't think he'd mind me intervening.”

(Had she gone and turned into Mary Margaret?)

Killian's answering smile made her stomach swoop in a way that had nothing to do with the amount of alcohol in the punch. He was just unfairly attractive and she liked seeing him happy, that was all. “I think he'd appreciate that quite a bit. And even if he did mind, I'm sure he wouldn't anymore if it works in his favor.”

She returned to her table a moment later, this time taking the empty chair next to Elsa rather than the one she'd been sitting in before. “Hey. So, I have a question.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“You remember that day when you saw Killian for the first time and you made that comment about him having a brother?”

Elsa glanced at her and raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“Well, you're in luck. He does have an older brother, Liam. Apparently you met him at the Miner’s Day festival.”

“Wait, that Liam? He's Killian’s brother?”

“So you remember him?”

“Yes, I do. I just remember thinking there had to be some kind of catch for him to be so good looking, a wife or a criminal past or something.”

“There's no criminal past that I know of, and no wife. But he is a widower and a dad to a little girl. Would you be okay with that?”

Elsa pursed her lips. “It's not something I've given much thought to. I don't think I've ever dated someone with a kid before. But if he’s a good guy, and a good dad to his daughter,  I see no reason to object.”

“I was hoping you’d say something like that.” She looked back over to where she’d left Killian at the punch bowl, where he now stood talking to Liam. Smiling at Elsa, she nodded in their direction. “He’s over there with Killian now if you want an excuse to go get another drink. You kind of know Killian already from the store, and something tells me it won’t be hard for you to get introduced.”

Her smile grew as Elsa’s face lit up. “I am getting thirsty. If you’ll excuse me.” She stood and went over to the brothers, not even remembering to take her cup with her.  

Emma watched as she spoke to Killian first, then turned to Liam, obviously feigning ignorance. Killian’s gestures indicated he was making introductions between the two of them. She couldn’t see Liam’s face since his back was turned to her, but Killian shot her a wink that said all she needed to know.                                                                                            

She eagerly anticipated hearing details about the meeting from Elsa at work the next day, not wanting to ask intrusive questions, but hoping her boss would choose to bring it up. All she mentioned was that Liam was “just as charming as his brother” and had made a comment about hoping he’d see her at the town’s fall festival the night before Halloween. But there was color to her cheeks and a gleam in her eye when she spoke of it.

Killian’s first delivery of the week happened on Wednesday, the day Emma turned twenty-eight. Per her request, Elsa and Anna had kept the surprises minimal, although there was a cupcake in the break room she looked forward to eating on her lunch break. Chocolate was a hard thing to object, even if she objected everything else about the day in question.

Seeing the familiar truck turn the corner, Emma went to open the front door and wait for Killian as she usually did. Was it weird for her to do that? She was just trying to make his delivery easier. And maybe she looked forward to seeing him. Because they were friends.

It was odd not to see him pulling in a hand truck, but instead carrying a single package. “Good morning, love.”

“Hey. Is that all today?”

“Aye. Don’t be alarmed, though. I’m sure I’ll have at least a dozen for you next time.”

“You’re probably right.” She took the package from him, looking for a name on the return address. It was just boring office supplies.

Checking to make sure Elsa wasn’t out on the floor, she asked “Has Liam said anything about Sunday? My boss is being minimal with the details.”

Killian barked out a laugh. “My brother has been anything but minimal. I haven’t heard him speak of anything else since. I’d give him hell about it if I wasn’t so glad to see him happy, even if they’ve only had one real conversation together.”

“Sometimes one conversation might be all it takes.”

It was when she was signing her name on the diad (and feeling proud of herself for remembering it’s actual name) that the idea came to her. “Killian? Are you doing anything tonight?”

He considered it for a moment. “Nothing besides going home after my shift and finding something on TV to entertain me for a bit. Why do you ask?”

“Would you maybe want to come over and watch a movie? As friends,” she quickly added, hoping he wouldn’t detect any desperation in her voice. “I was going to order pizza and find something to watch, and just figured it would be nice to have the company. I mean, don’t feel obligated or anything if you have something better to do. I just thought I’d offer.”

His following silence and perplexed expression were enough to make her regret asking. She’d made it clear that it was meant to be strictly friendly, but maybe the invitation still hadn’t come across the way she’d wanted it to.

But then after what felt like an eternity (probably a few seconds in actuality), a grin broke out across his face. “I would like nothing more, Swan. As long as you’re sure I wouldn’t be imposing on you.”

“Of course not. You’ll probably be doing me a favor by not making me eat the pizza alone since I can never finish it all and get stuck with leftovers for, like, five days afterward.”

“In that case, I expected to be well-compensated for my assistance.”

She refused to let her mind run away with that idea in public. “We’ll see.”

Emma then remembered she didn’t have as much as a phone number for him. All of their interactions so far had been face to face. “Here.” She pulled her phone out of her back pocket, opened the screen to start a new text, and handed it to him. “Put your number in there, and I’ll text you my address. Not that it’s that hard to find in a town this small, but still. Six-thirty work for you?”

“Sounds great. I look forward to it.”

By that evening, she was equal parts excited and terrified. She’d spent most of the day wondering if inviting him over had been a mistake. Not because she didn’t want to spend time with him, but because of how many things could go wrong.

There was a knock on the door at six twenty-eight. Emma took a deep breath and went to answer it, glancing at herself in the hall mirror and hoping she didn’t look like she was having an internal crisis.

“You’re right on time.”

“Of course. It would be bad form to keep a lady waiting.”

“Honestly, where did you learn to talk like that?”

“A number of different places. My mum had a penchant for Jane Austen, for one. Liam and I were forced to sit through that bloody BBC series so many times I practically had it memorized by the time I was ten years old.” He rolled his eyes but laughed when he spoke.

At least she knew that’s where the hand kissing had come from. “I’m partial to the 2005 movie myself. What does she think about that one?”

Killian’s smile vanished. “I’m afraid I don’t know. She passed that same year.”

“Oh my gosh. Killian, I’m so-”

He dismissed the attempted apology. “It’s alright, Swan. You didn’t know. She was sick for quite some time, but she did ensure my grammar skills were impeccable.”

“That they are. And speaking of impeccable, the pizza place was running a special. So I got garlic knots too.” Food was her go to method for deflecting awkwardness, it seemed.

“You’re quickly learning the way to my heart.”

They settled onto opposite ends of her couch with the pizza box and bag of garlic knots between them, not even bothering with plates. Emma turned on the TV and opened Netflix. Her first suggestion was going to be Love Actually, but maybe something without Colin Firth would be a better option after what he’d just shared with her.

“I’ve learned without having to ask that 2000s rom coms seem to be a guilty pleasure for you too. Any suggestions?”

“I’m open to anything. Although I did see Love Actually was back on Netflix if you’re not one of those people who thinks it’s too early for Christmas movies.”

Huh. Maybe she’d been wrong. And maybe he was a mind reader.

“Are you kidding? It’s never too early for Christmas movies.”

“As I just said, you are learning the way to my heart.”

Almost everything she learned about Killian continued to surprise her. And there was so much more she wanted to know. How he took his coffee, what his favorite subject in school had been, if he spoke any other languages, topics he had strong opinions on. He was like an addictive prologue that made her want to stop and binge read the rest of the story.

They sat in comfortable silence for the first half hour or so of the movie, eating the pizza and garlic knots and occasionally making a comment about a specific scene or line.

“What’s your favorite storyline?” she asked him. “And please don’t say the Alan Rickman one, or I’ll be forced to question this friendship.”

“Of course not. He was a bloody wanker to his wife. No one deserves to be treated like that.”

“Okay, good. Friendship officially saved.”

He let out a dramatic sigh of relief. Emma laughed and rolled her eyes. “In all seriousness, however, I do quite like Jamie and Aurélia’s story. They’re able to fall in love despite an inability to communicate, and then he goes and learns another language for the sake of confessing his feelings. It’s quite romantic.”

Of all the things about Killian that she’d learned so far, this surprised her the least. Of course he’d be the romantic type, maybe not with flowers and chocolate and other material things, but in his actions, the things he would do to to show someone they were loved.

“What about you, Swan?” His voice broke her train of thought. “Your favorite storyline, I mean.”

Oh, right. They’d been having a conversation. “That’s easy. David and Natalie.”

“Because of Hugh Grant?” he teased.

“No. Because she got the kind of support I wanted when he found out about everything with the president.” He placed the blame where it was due and never expected the victim to take responsibility for a horrible man’s decisions.

Killian’s smile instantly faded. “Bloody hell. I’m sorry, love. I should have been more considerate.”

“No, it’s fine. Really,” she continued when he attempted to protest. “I mean, that whole situation in itself isn’t fine, but I know you didn’t mean anything by asking. It’s just...well, frankly, today’s not a great day for me and I guess it’s made me reflect on all of it a lot more than usual.”

He pursed his lips before he spoke. “Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”

Here goes nothing, she thought. “Well, today’s my birthday. I didn’t mention it before because it’s not something I really like having a lot of attention on. To be frank, I don’t have a family, I never have. I was found on the side of the road right after I was born and grew up in foster care. The only reason I was able to go to college was because I lucked out and got a scholarship through the high school. And you already know how that ended.

“Don’t get me wrong, I know I have a lot of great things in my life that I’m thankful for. I have friends who are like family to me. I have a job, that, despite my frustrations with it, still pays the bills and keeps me on my feet. But today makes it hard for me not to wonder where I could be now if things had gone differently. If my parents had kept me, if a family had wanted to adopt me, if my first love hadn’t been the kind of man to make me question every bit of my worth. Along with every other decision I’ve ever made.”

She turned to him. “I’m sorry to invite you over and then dump all of this on you. I honestly wasn’t intending on bringing any of it up. I just knew I didn’t want to be alone tonight, and, well, you seem to understand me a lot more than most people do.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Emma’s heart dropped and she felt her palms grow clammy. She’d finally done it. She’d said too much and was pushing him away without even trying.

Just as she was preparing a long, drawn out apology, Killian broke the silence. “You know Liam and I lost our mother. She took us and left our sorry excuse of a father when we were young, and we lived in Boston until she passed. Despite the fact that I was nearly grown, Liam felt as if he had to look out for me for years after. I enlisted in the Navy both because I couldn’t think of a better option after school, and so he could feel he had the freedom to go to nursing school like he’d always wanted.

“My first few years are a bit of a blur now. I was still consumed with grief over losing Mum, and turned to whatever I could to avoid facing it —  drinking, gambling, women. Whatever could distract me. Things went on like that until I met Milah when I was twenty-three and stationed on the West Coast. She was older, adventurous, free-spirited, everything my own demons kept me from being. She was also married, something I knew from the beginning but promptly ignored until I was in too deep.”

Emma listened as he explained how he received news that he would be transferred back to the northeast. How he’d gone to Milah and asked her to come with him so they could have a fresh start together. Instead, he’d been crushed when she objected —  despite whatever connection the two of them had, she couldn’t leave her husband and their life behind.

“And that was it. I assumed there was no chance of me convincing her otherwise, despite how much I wanted to. So I left and went on to my next post. I’d been there less than two weeks before I heard from one of my old mates that she’d been killed in a boating accident.”

If she’d thought her heart couldn’t sink any lower, she was wrong. “Oh, Killian.”

“I was a wreck for months. I told myself if I’d tried harder, if I’d fought for us, that she might have come with me and would have still been alive. The only thing that kept me from spiraling back into grief was Liam. When he found out, he threatened to leave school to make sure I didn’t go off the deep end. I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I got in the way of his dream. And I started driving. I can’t explain how or why, but being out on the road gave me the release I hadn’t been able to find elsewhere.”

He reached over and took her hand in his. “My point behind all this, Swan, is yes, I do understand you. Our pasts may be different where circumstances are concerned, but I know all too well the feeling of questioning how your life could have been different or if you’re where you’re supposed to be. It’s okay to be confused or even upset about how some things have turned out, but I really hope you won’t think less of yourself for it.”

It was difficult to hold back the tears she felt pricking her eyes. She had no desire to cry in front of him after everything else, even though she knew he wouldn’t judge her for it. “How do you always know exactly what to say to me?”

“It’s like you said, love: you and I, we understand each other.” He considered the thought again. “Then again, maybe it’s just all part of my instinctive charm.”

She rolled her eyes and whacked his shoulder with a throw pillow.

Long after the movie ended and Killian had left, Emma found herself lying awake in bed as she considered their earlier conversation. She’d known he was nothing like Neal before she opened up and told him about her past. (Truthfully, she’d known he was a better man than Neal from the day they’d met.) Still, the way he listened, accepted her for who she was, and tried to encourage her when she needed it was nothing like she’d expected.

She also didn’t expect that abnormal thing her pulse did when the UPS truck arrived at Crystalline now. Or when he’d taken her hand earlier. Or when he smiled, laughed, or even so much as cracked a corny joke in her presence.

Everything she’d wanted but had never been able to find with Graham.

Shit. Had she really gone and fallen for her UPS driver?

The answer, she soon learned, was an absolute yes.

Killian was constantly on her mind over the next few days. She thought of him every time she passed a UPS truck on the road, or when one of the literary memes pages she followed on Instagram posted something related to Pride & Prejudice. And his deliveries, which were already one of the better parts of her work days, soon became something she eagerly awaited, despite feeling silly for it.

Emma only hoped that if there had been a shift in her demeanor or actions since the revelation on her birthday that he wouldn’t notice.

And he wasn’t the only thing often on her mind, either. She wasn’t even looking for writing opportunities when one fell into her lap. She’d been online, researching the English and creative writing programs at a handful of colleges in Portland, more for curiosity’s sake than anything else. It was still uncertain when or even if she would be able to go back, but there was no harm in looking, right? That's when she found the promotion for a Young Fiction Writing contest open to residents of Maine under 30.

A few months ago, she might have glanced over the details and moved on. But something made her stop and carefully read through the description and guidelines. It wasn't necessarily the particular contest itself that stood out to her; it was standard as far as events like it were concerned.

No, what stood out to Emma was the confidence she hadn't felt in years when it came to writing. Because, for once, her immediate reaction wasn't thoughts of doubt or self loathing. She felt as if she could actually get it a shot. Even though the deadline was less than a week away.

Within minutes, she'd bookmarked the posting and opened the word document for a short story she'd written about seventy percent of before abandoning it several months earlier. It was an adventure story about a runaway princess who leaves home after a dictator takes over her kingdom, and finds unexpected romance with a reformed pirate as they team up to overthrow him.

She had never even finished plotting the last quarter of the story. It was part of her cycle of getting excited about an idea, writing part of it, and then giving up at some point thanks to doubt and insecurity.

But cycles could be broken.

For the rest of the night, she went back and forth between her laptop and the notebook she used to jot down story ideas and managed to come up with the bare bones for the remainder of the story. The rest of the details could be filled in along the way; she had what she really needed.

The next few days passed in a blur of working, helping prepare for the town’s fall festival, and spending hours in front of her laptop in attempt to finish her story before the contest deadline.

And somehow, she managed to do it all. After one last read-through to catch any technical errors she might have missed before, Emma submitted her contest entry less than an hour before the midnight deadline.

The chances of her winning anything was minimal, she’d known that from the beginning, especially since she’d thrown together the last bit of the story so quickly. But that wasn’t important to her now. She had done it. She’d finished a story for the first time in months, years maybe, and that alone meant more to her than any prize.

And she couldn’t wait to tell Killian.

She had hoped he would be making a delivery the next morning so she could tell him first thing. Of course there was always the option of sending him a text, but she wanted to tell him in person considering how significant his encouragement had been to her wanting to write again in the first place.

At least she knew he would be attending the fall festival that night with Liam and Harper. Surely she could find a moment to talk to him while Liam was off romancing Elsa.

Since there was no delivery, she spent the rest of the day on pins and needles waiting for the festivities to start that evening. Elsa and Anna closed Crystalline a few hours early, and at six, the three of them walked to the town square where the event was being held. The space was packed with both people and various attractions, but Emma’s only concern was locating a familiar head of dark hair and blue eyes.

After half an hour of wandering around through vendors and game booths, she finally spotted him at the face painting table with Liam, and a little girl with her father’s dark curls that was having a unicorn painted on her cheek, courtesy of Belle.

She came up behind Killian and tapped him on the shoulder. “Please tell me you’re getting a matching unicorn on your cheek too. It would really bring out the blue in your eyes.”

“Hello, Swan. And, as much as I hate to disappoint you, the answer is no. With my luck, I wouldn’t be able to wash it all off and wouldn’t hear the end of it during my stops tomorrow.”

Emma sighed dramatically. “What a shame. I guess I’ll never get to find out what a cute Brony you would have been.”

She and Liam laughed at Killian’s objection as Liam took his daughter’s hand and suggested he take her to the pumpkin carving table.

When they had left, Emma turned back to Killian. “What are the chances he only wanted to carve a pumpkin because he knows Elsa is over there helping Anna and Kristoff?”

“Pretty likely I’d say. I can’t wait to tease him about it during my speech at their wedding.”

“I will most definitely hold you to that. Oh! I had something to tell you,” she said, remembering why she’d been so eager to find him in the first place. “So, long story short, I finished writing something for the first time in ages, and submitted it to this writing contest thing I found online. I’m not expecting to win or anything, but all that matters to me is that I did it.” She couldn’t hold back her smile. “And I really felt like I needed to thank you, because I’m not sure I would have done it if you hadn’t encouraged me so much and made me feel like I could have a purpose outside of being a retail manager.”

The massive grin on his face made her pulse do that thing she still wasn’t sure was completely normal. Or safe. “That’s wonderful, love. I don’t think you truly needed me to make any of that happen, but I’m honored I was able to help all the same.”

“Help is an understatement. Trust me.” She could go into a long, emotional speech about the number of things he’d helped her see differently, but she’d save that for another time, one when they weren’t surrounded by everyone in Storybrooke.

But their present circumstances didn’t stop her from taking an additional leap of faith, not unlike the one she’d taken by inviting him over on her birthday. “Will you go out with me?”

Killian’s eyes widened as if wondering if he’d heard her correctly. “Come again?”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I just figured that while I’m on a streak of doing things I wouldn’t normally have the guts to, maybe I should keep it up before I lose my nerve.”

His brow furrowed and he placed a hand under his chin like he was deep in thought. “Hmm. I’ll accept on one condition.”

“And that is?”

“You let me take you out to dinner, but we’re having pizza, garlic knots, and cinnamon twists.”

Maybe he was a man after her own heart too. “With an offer like that, I think I’d be a fool to say no.”