A/N: My sincerest apologies for how long this took to get up. xP Many, many thanks to heratulipsia, captainhookcaptainfreedom, Killian's Lady, EurekaBeck, ChainOfPaperclips, fox24, jdmusiclover, Rebekah Kroeplin, Kaicchan, HopeDiamond, La Bitca, lilyjones87, phoward, elizebeth1994, Rain Pours Down, Smiley Face, Regina Valerie Phalange, OnceUponABookworm, Ravengirl07, campingwiththecharmings, SolemnlySwearToManageMischief, Ari FitzSimmons, pandabearx33, wendyhookjones, Wapomeao Huntress, Ayyyylmao, Revenessa, James-Padfoot, swishandflickwit, birthday bunny, florenzu, Lunalove25, KillianJones, and the 3 guest reviewers.

More of an epilogue than anything. I am a sucker for everyone getting a happy ending.

Emma had never realised that so many people from school knew about the Rabbit Hole. As she pushed her way through the crowds milling in the doorway, looking around the packed space for Killian, she recognised at least a dozen people from her year group and even more year 12s.

"Emma!" someone called out, and she looked over to see David and Mary Margaret sitting in a booth nearby. She wandered over to them.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, surprised – while not a club, per say, this still wasn't what she'd consider their sort of place.

David grinned. "Ruby told us about this and we decided to check it out. Why are you here? I thought you were meant to be out with Killian?"

"I am," she replied. "Out here."

"Oh," Mary Margaret said. She looked around and grimaced.

"I know," Emma said with a groan. "Perhaps we shouldn't have decided to have a first date here on the last day of school. It's kinda ruined the atmosphere a bit."

"So it's officially a first date then?" Mary Margaret asked, and Emma nodded, bracing herself for some sort of lecture – even after explaining the entire situation, her friend had kept her reservations – but Mary Margaret just sighed and gave her a small smile.

"Have fun with it, then. Maybe go somewhere quieter."

"Here's fine," Emma replied, not particularly wanting to let them know that with Killian's money still tight, the only cheaper option was McDonalds.

Ruby wandered over to the table, balancing a tray of drinks. "Emma! What are you doing? Is your date with Killian here?"

"Yep," Emma replied, and Ruby sighed.

"I'll make sure these two don't creepily watch you guys all night," she assured Emma, and David and Mary Margaret let out splutters of indignation. Emma laughed. At that moment she spied Killian entering, and walked across the room to meet him halfway at an empty booth.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," he replied, and there was a slightly awkward moment where they made to hug but both leaned in the wrong direction before sitting down.

Before this point, Emma had been totally fine, but now she felt oddly nervous. Good nervous, though, butterfly-nervous. It hadn't really struck her until now that this was a date. That they were... well, together, she supposed.

It had been two weeks since their English presentation. Two weeks since they started this tentative whatever-it-was, both of them still a little too cautious to do much more than hang out for the sole purpose of hanging out, with the assessment now out of the way. Killian and Victor alternated lunchtimes between Emma's group and their own, Regina seemingly having mellowed in her attitude towards Mary Margaret a little.

But now... this was all a bit more official than she was used to. Her first date with Neal had been the same way, a little awkward, a little unsure, and okay, Neal was the last thing she really wanted to be thinking about right now.

"...yay, holidays," she said finally, breaking the silence, and Killian scoffed out a laugh.

"I suppose that's why this place is crowded as hell," he said, and looked around, eyes zeroing in on her friends sitting a little way away. "They're not chaperoning, are they?" he asked, aghast, and Emma shook her head.

"Nah, believe it or not they are here purely by coincidence. Besides, your group are here too," she pointed out, and Killian twisted in his seat to look at Regina and a few of the others sitting at a table nearby.

"Well," he said then. "This is... cosy." He sounded a bit frustrated, almost disappointed in himself, and Emma reached out across the table and pressed his arm.

"It's fine," she said. "Fun."

He gave her a small smile, the ice broken a little, and then reached down into his bag.

"I have something for you," he said. "It's kind of stupid..."

He handed over an envelope and Emma took it curiously. Inside was a small card. It was the sort of cheap thing you would buy from a newsagent; an unassuming white rectangle with the words 'THANK YOU' and a generic picture of a smiling sun printed on top. When she opened it, however, she was surprised to see the entire inside covered in a detailed collage bordering a handwritten message. There were masses of small, pressed flowers glued to the page; meticulously dried, paper-thin violets, pansies, daisies. She couldn't help but smile at the small cut-out picture of a pirate ship sailing between the petals, an umbrella floating to the side, a red cowgirl hat and a Noddy cap. An apple tree.

She ran her finger over a trail of bee stickers weaving between the flowers. "Plath, right?" she asked. Bees were a recurring motif throughout Ariel.

He nodded. His head was ducked down, an almost shy smile on his face.

"And the flowers..." It took her a moment to recognise some of the others – columbines, rue, rosemary and fennel blossoms – and her eyes widened when she worked it out. "Rosemary for remembrance," she realised with a dawning grin. "Pansies for thought. They're all Ophelia's flowers. That's..."

Insanely thought out? Ridiculously sweet?

"Like I said," he murmured. "It's a bit stupid."

"No, it's... really thought out..." she replied, and turned to the message written inside. All words died on her lips as she read it.

'Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt thou the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt my love.

Thank you for everything'

It wasn't even the use of 'love' that shocked her – more because it was part of the quote than anything – but the reassurance behind the words.

Never doubt.

She swallowed, hard, and looked up at him. He had his gaze turned away, seeming almost nervous.

"You don't need to thank me," was what she finally croaked out, and his eyes darted back to hers.

"Yes," he replied. "I do. You stopped me making what I see now would have been a terrible mistake. You made me..."

He trailed off, as though unsure how to word it, but Emma knew exactly what he meant. She felt the same way.

He had made her connect with someone again. He had made her trust. And for the first time, she wasn't scared that he was going to walk away from her the way everybody else had. He had changed for her, put aside his revenge.

Never doubt my love.

"Then I should thank you as well," she said, and raised a hand when he opened his mouth to protest. "Don't you dare start kicking yourself over the Mr Gold business again. You made your choice. And that took... courage. And making my choice took courage as well, but you... you helped bring that out in me. So let's just agree to end this now before we get stuck in a never-ending cycle of thanking each other, okay?"

"Okay," he replied. "In that case, you're welcome, Swan."

"You're welcome too, Jones."

They grinned at each other.

"Seriously though," Emma said, and ran her hand over the flowers, awed by their delicacy. "This card is... amazing."

"Well, I learned how to collage from the best."

"Hamlet and Ophelia didn't get such a happy ending, though," she mused, and he raised an eyebrow.

"If we're going for cheesy literary analogies, we could be... actually, nah, Romeo and Juliet fails a bit as well."

She laughed. "Ruby may or may not have thrown a Pride and Prejudice comparison at me before."

He clasped a hand to his heart. "I am extraordinarily flattered to have been thought of as the equivalent to Mr Darcy."

"Yeah, well, you fit the part. Extremely off-putting at first encounter."

He adopted such a pained expression that Emma couldn't help but crack up, and a moment later he broke down laughing as well. Any and all remaining first-date awkwardness faded away as she relaxed, realising that making it official wasn't going to change anything. They were still hanging out, having fun, still friends more than anything else.

The moment was broken when someone cleared their throat next to them, and they both looked up. Emma was surprised to find a stranger standing there; a slightly dishevelled looking blonde boy about their own age, wearing an embarrassed grin.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said. He had a British accent, Emma noticed absently. "I've wandered in off the street."

"Um, okay," she said, and he slapped his own forehead.

"That came out a bit strangely. I mean I came in here because I was lost, and I'm looking for directions. Is this..." He looked around, seeming a bit confused, and Killian grinned, shifting across in the booth for him to sit down.

"No worries, mate. This is an eatery. There's a bar over there, but most of us here are students."

The boy perked up a bit. "Are you English?"

Killian nodded. "The name's Killian. That's Emma."

"Robin," he said, extending a hand for them each to shake. "I've just moved here on exchange and I'm staying at the university residence. I went out for a walk and can't seem to find my way back!"

"The uni's just around the corner," Emma said. "You can't miss it. Go down the street and turn left – I think the lodgings are on that side of the campus."

"Thanks," he replied. "Where do you guys go to school?"

They glanced at each other. Even if he seemed legit, a thousand warnings about talking to strangers flashed through Emma's head. Robin noticed their hesitation, and laughed.

"I'm not making the best first impression, am I? I'm doing a holiday program at the uni, but finishing off high school here. If you guys go to Storybrooke High School, that's be convenient."

"Right," Killian replied. "We're from Queenhart; it's a grammar school on the other side of town. I know some people from Storybrooke though, I can tell them to show you around next term."

Robin perked up. "That'd be top."

"Actually..." Killian leaned forward across the table and pointed. Emma followed his gaze to where Regina was sitting in a booth with Sidney and Kathryn. She wasn't joining in their conversation, seeming engrossed with tapping away at her phone screen.

"That's Regina," Killian said. "She's from our school, but next term she's transferring to Storybrooke. You should go talk to her; you'll probably both be the only new students."

Robin smiled. "I think I shall. Thanks," he said, and patted Killian's shoulder before rising and going over to Regina's group. They watched as he stood hovering over Regina's shoulder for a moment before she looked up. Emma couldn't hear what he was saying, but Regina's look of confusion morphed rather quickly into distaste. Robin seemed to find this very amusing, as he sat himself down and proceeded to continue talking with some rather vigorous hand gestures.

Killian snorted. "It'll be strange not having Regina around next term."

Emma nodded. Even if they hadn't gotten along, it would be an abrupt change for her group.

"You should sit with us permanently," she said, and Killian raised an eyebrow.

"Would your friends be alright with that?"

"Since when would that have stopped you?" she asked, and Killian gave an almost embarrassed shrug.

"It wouldn't. Except, you know. They're your friends."

She couldn't help but smile at that. "I think they'll be just fine with it," she said, but before he could reply, someone else came up next to their table.

"Hi," Neal said, a touch awkwardly, and Emma stiffened.

Despite their having parted on reasonably good terms, he was still one of the last people she wanted to see. Glancing across at Killian, she was concerned to find that he'd gone rigid in his seat, a tense, wary look on his face.

"Hey," she replied carefully.

"Sorry to interrupt you guys." He glanced curiously between them, and with the card propped open on the table, it was fairly obvious that they were on a date. He didn't seem annoyed, though, despite his previous frantic attempts to warn Emma off. "Can we talk quickly?"

Emma bit her lip and glanced at Killian, but his face was still blank, not giving her anything to work with.

"Do you want to go outside?" she asked Neal, and he shook his head.

"No – I want to talk to Killian as well."

That prompted a reaction, Killian sitting up a bit, eyes narrowing. Neal sat down beside Emma, who carefully shifted herself along the bench to avoid touching or brushing against him.

He ran a hand over his face and sighed. "I wanted to... apologise."

"You did already," Emma said. "Last time we saw each other."

He shook his head. "Not for that. I saw my dad again last weekend and he brought along Belle – Belle French? She's a teacher at your school."

"We know," Emma replied. "We have her for English." She hadn't arrived at their school until year 10, after Neal had left.

Neal nodded. "Yeah. Well, I was talking with her and she... explained some things. About my mum. And about you," this with a quick look in Killian's direction. "I guess I had some things wrong." He scoffed out a laugh. "And I guess what we all should be taking away from all this is that getting involved in other peoples' business is just... really, really messy. So. I won't be getting involved in your business from now on." His words were started to tangle, tripping over one another, and Emma couldn't help but laugh.

"Appreciate it," she said. At least he was trying now.

Neal gave a sheepish grin.

Killian still hadn't spoken. Wasn't smiling either, just staring almost grimly in Neal's direction.

"Anyway," Neal said. "Belle helped me get in touch with her."

Killian blinked, expression faltering for a moment. "With Milah?" he asked quietly, and Neal nodded.

"Yeah. Uh. We talked about a lot of things. But I thought you'd want to know that she's fine. She has a job, teaching at a college in Manhattan."

Killian gave a stilted nod. Emma reached across the table and touched his hand. She couldn't help the little bubble of worry at this mention of Milah – Milah who had always existed in the past tense, who she thought they had gotten over and done with. Neal bringing this up reopened the possibility of communication with her. Of all the drama resurfacing again.

But after a moment, Killian shook his head. "That's good to hear," he said, firmly. "I'm glad of it." His fingers laced through Emma's and squeezed slightly.

Neal seemed relieved. "Great. Well, I'll leave you two to your... thing," he said, eyes falling on their joined hands before he slid out of the booth.

"Okay?" Emma asked softly, and Killian nodded.

"Fine," he said. "At least... at least I know she's alright now. But that's all gone, packed away."

She felt unexpectedly proud of him, and clasped his hand a moment longer before pulling back.

"Well. This has been a series of... interesting encounters," she mused, and Killian groaned, running a hand over his face.

"Not exactly the date I was hoping for," he said.

She picked up her bag and stood up, and he stared.

"Okay. And... now you're walking out. Was it really that bad?"

She laughed and grabbed his arm, tugging him up out of his seat. "Come on. Let's go somewhere where we don't know everybody in the room. Or better yet, where there is no one else in the room. How about we just order a pizza and go back to your apartment?"

"Sounds good to me."

She picked up the card and placed it carefully in her handbag. Somewhere between the table and the door their hands found either other again, and remained intertwined as they walked; down the street, on the bus, all the way to his apartment complex where he had to let go in order to fumble in his pocket for the key.

It was dark and a bit chilly in the hallway outside his front door, late enough that the area was quiet and empty, and Emma was suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss him.

It wasn't like she hadn't thought about it over the last two weeks. He hadn't brought the subject up; perhaps under the assumption that she still needed time and space – which she was grateful for, but now... now they were on a date, or had been. Doing it now would break the tension. Spark things.

"Hey," she said, before she could overthink it. She grabbed his arm, key halfway to the door, and he looked down at her.

"What?" he asked.

She smiled, leaning up and forward. He caught on quickly, looking confused for a second, then delighted, reaching up to weave a hand in her hair and pull her closer-

There came a sudden rattle from the door next to them, and then it was opening, light spilling out into the dark hallway. They both jumped in surprise, taking a few steps back.

"Killian?" A man asked, emerging from inside the apartment.

Burglar! Was Emma's first, insane thought, which she quickly banished at the familiarity of the man's tone. His father, was her next, but a quick glance in Killian's direction revealed nothing but absolute shock.

"Liam?" he asked, voice practically a croak, and suddenly the man was striding forward to grab him in a tight hug.

Emma stepped back to watch, relief crashing over her in waves. He's back. He's alive, he's fine, he's back. As the days had passed with Killian making no mention of his brother, she'd been starting to grow very concerned – especially since she'd been getting the impression that Archie and Cora were still trying to get in touch with his parents.

But now... she couldn't even be annoyed about their kiss being ruined. He was back.

They'd been hugging for a good few minutes when Liam finally pulled back, his hands still resting on Killian's shoulders.

"It's good to see you," he said, and Killian nodded vigorously.

"And you! I mean, God, I... why didn't you tell me you were coming?" This with some measure of indignation, and Liam laughed loudly.

"Sorry, little brother – I tried! I got the first flight here that I could, but I've been calling the home phone – you guys need to invest in an answering machine – and dad's cell since I got out. No one picked up! I arrived here a few hours ago and no one was home. Luckily I remembered you guys keep your spare key under the doormat. Very creative. Don't be surprised when someone robs you one day."

Killian had been grinning with almost hysterical relief, but the mention of their father had him sobering up, and Liam caught on quickly.

"What is it, what's wrong?"

"Long story," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Dad's... not currently present and may not be for the foreseeable future."

The frown Liam gave at that made Emma's heart ache. It was sad and angry more than surprised, which spoke volumes. He clapped a hand around Killian's shoulders and started to pull him towards the apartment.

"Let's talk about this inside," he began, when Killian twisted around and beckoned to Emma.

"Hey- I should introduce you two first," he said, and Liam glanced around.

"I didn't see you standing there!" he said, and Emma smiled, stepping forward.

"It's fine." She held out a hand, and he grasped it warmly. He was a tall man, had Killian's same dark hair and blue eyes, and had to have been a half-dozen years older than them, if not more. There was something very friendly about him, something very kind. She liked him instantly.

"Emma, this is Liam, as you know," Killian said. "Liam, this is Emma, my..." He trailed off, glancing at her as if for permission. She nodded.

"Girlfriend," he finished.

Liam's eyebrows rose. "A pleasure to meet you," he said, and Emma nodded.

They entered the apartment, whereupon Liam – who had been sleeping before hearing them outside – promptly realised he was only wearing a t-shirt and boxers and hurried off to put some pants on, leaving Emma and Killian standing in the main room in a slightly shellshocked silence.

"So," Emma said. "He's back."

"Yep," Killian replied. He was still smiling. "So. Girlfriend," he repeated. "That's... okay now?"

"We did just go on a date," Emma said.

"I suppose we did. That's a thing that happened."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. The last person she had said 'I love you' to was Neal, but even then she'd always found it a bit stilted, a bit awkward – it was such an overused phrase. Nice in its own way, of course, but she'd heard it a hundred times from foster parents who used it as an empty platitude, an obligatory phrase to be uttered before bed, a sentiment that only lasted as long as they kept her. It had lost meaning for her.

She thought maybe one day she might be able to say it to Killian and not have it feel forced, uncomfortable, expected. But today was not that day.

Instead, she reached out and took him by the hands, fingers gentle around the rough bandage of the cast.

The last time they had kissed was in this room. The apartment was still dim, and quiet, and a bit draughty – but now it wasn't empty. Now the permeating loneliness was gone, and Killian's hands were warm in hers, and she leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

Today was not that day, but that was okay. They would get there.

They had made their choices and their journey was only just beginning.

- end -

A/N: And so we reach the end! Thank you so, so much to everyone who has read, fav'd, subscribed to and reviewed the story, especially to everyone who took the time to review every chapter. It was a pleasure getting to know you all and seeing your familiar faces in my inbox. I have been amazed and delighted by the response to this story and I am very glad that I could provide some entertainment (and hopefully a little bit of Hamlet analysis! hehe).

The aforementioned half-sequel will be more of a side project I'll work on while thinking up ideas for another multi-chaptered story.

Until then, feel free to send me any CS prompts for oneshots or short stories on my tumblr (link in profile) - I am determined to remain active in fandom xP

Thank you again to everyone and it has been a delight reading/writing with you!