a/n: Y'all are too damn clever, noticing that I hadn't marked this as completed yet. I kept having to act like I just overlooked that button. ;)

If Killian expected his life to go back to normal once he left Storybrooke behind, he was completely mistaken. The world he goes back to in Boston feels hollow and lonely – now more than it ever was before. Maybe it's because he was somehow lucky to find love once with his soulmate, and then again with someone who wasn't his. And now he has neither. Maybe it's because he also truly felt a bond with Henry, or because Storybrooke felt like home.

His business, small but with the most impressive track record ever seen in his line of work, expands after his time in Storybrooke. Apparently, with an even higher success rate, he's a sought-out name in the soulmate searching ring.

Now he has more detectives working for him, and it means he can step back a little. The less personal involvement, the better. Sure, he still works. He has the keenest sense of direction out of all of his employees, except for a man named Smee, who is exceptionally talented at finding people in places he would've never considered. Most days, he stays in his (new and bigger) office and spends some time working on the cases he has been personally requested for. The rest of his day is spent looking at the evidence of his success.

One entire wall of his office might be windows, but another one is full of frames displaying happy couples. Some of his favorites are from his early days. Yes, he does have a picture of Milah's ex-husband up there. He seems slightly less stern looking fondly at the woman he was destined to be with, a smart brunette named Belle who has dedicated her life to library sciences.

The Nolan wedding photo is up there, along with half of Storybrooke, it seems. They occupy their own column of pictures. Ruby and Dorothy smile back at him, along with Regina and Robin, who've just set their wedding date. Henry is in the picture with them, beaming from ear to ear, along with Robin's young boy, Roland.

He has a warm expression for Granny and her new husband. Despite not being a soul match, she still credits his Cupid-like abilities for bringing her and Marco together.

His gaze lingers on the photos of the Storybrooke folk, anxious as he is about his journey back to the small town that unabashedly stole his whole heart. There's a noticeable absence of one couple he matched from that area, and he still wonders what became of them. Shortly after Graham drove up to meet Emma, Killian sent out their exit surveys and never looked back. He put Tink in charge of all further communications, going so far as to route Graham's emails to her account.

As if it's difficult to find, Killian searches the wall until he finds the first picture at the top left corner: the one of him and Milah. He's looked at that photograph countless times every single day since it was taken, but now more than ever he wishes he could seek her council. He wonders what Milah would think of him falling in love again. Of course, if she were here to ask, he wouldn't have his business, and he never would've met Emma. Always with the double-edged swords in his life.

He's leaving in a few hours for the journey back to Maine, back to Storybrooke, and he's terrified. He'll be attending the christening and official naming party of the Nolan's son, born just three weeks prior. The fact that he's going back almost a year to the date of the first trip is not unnoticed.

What he does know of Emma's present life could fit in a thimble. He knows David works with her often, as she still fulfills deputy roles from time to time. He gets an occasional email from Henry (written with Regina's help and permission) that will just include the line "my moms are both doing fine" before he launches into what he's recently learned in Mrs. Nolan's classroom.

His room is already booked at Granny's, and he leaves the office early, with Tink's voice following him out the door to at least try to have a good time. He just waves to acknowledge he's heard her, and keeps going.

The ride up is different, but beautiful in its own right. A cold front has blown in, leaving several inches of snow in its wake and covering the landscape in white. If he believed in signs anymore, he would say it's a fresh start, with the snow acting as a blank canvas. Perhaps it's time to make new memories associated with the small town. Or maybe it's all just bollocks and he'll be back in Boston in a few days with the same heavy weight on his shoulders.

He's met at Granny's with a warm hug from the proprietress. She pats his cheek in her matronly fashion, telling him he looks too pale, and resolving to fatten him up with whatever food she can whip up fast enough.

The whole place looks exactly the same, and he melts into the familiarity of the vinyl covered stool at the counter. When Granny comes back, it's with his room key and gossip, filling him in on Ruby and Dorothy's latest adventures.

"I have a young girl working here now, in both the diner and housekeeping. You fixed her up with her man last year and while they're broke, they're happy. You did a lot of fine work here, young man."

He blushes at her kind words, the flush creeping up to his ears, and he thanks her for the high praise. While she fixes him a plate, he takes his bag up to his room and leaves his winter gear behind. Upon entering the diner again, he's regaled with more town news, talk of the Mayor's impending wedding along with the baby boy Snow and David just welcomed. Those two, it turned out, were a perfect match for this town after all.

"I always thought you were grooming yourself for Emma," Granny tells him. It's a little like ripping off the bandaid, because he never did find out what the town reaction was to his quick exit. "I never would've thought –"

Her words are quickly lost when a frigid blast of air follows in the flash of energy that runs straight into him.

"Killian!" In an instant, Henry is hugging him. The boy is turning too quickly into a young man, and he's grown at least a foot since the last time Killian saw him. He talks even faster than he already did as well, which Killian didn't know was possible. But he hangs on every word Henry shares with him, listening intently as he always did.

"You're gonna meet Roland later," Henry informs him, "and Robin. You'll like them. Robin is a forest ranger, and he's the leader of the cub scouts. He's teaching me archery, but mom doesn't know he's using real arrows. Y'know, I never would've thought he was the perfect match for my mom. But she's really happy with him."

Seeing the pictures is one thing, but hearing the absolute joy in Henry's voice is a whole other matter. He grins, encouraging Henry to tell him more as he digs into his plate of lasagna. He feels like he hasn't eaten real food in the months he's been away. It's all so comforting, so familiar, and the voice in the back of his head is once more telling him this is home, and he could've had this life.

And then the door opens, and it's déjà vu.

"Henry, what did I tell you about talking to strangers?"

The same exasperation, laden with weary affection, causes the same speeding of his heart rate.

"It's not a stranger, mom. It's –"

"Killian," she whispers when he turns to look at her. As with all his matches, he checks for rings on her fingers or a tell-tale baby bump, but she has neither. It's surprising and curious.

She looks like she's about to bolt, and she turns as if she's going to but Henry jumps off his stool and pulls her over to join them. Her son all but pushes her onto the stool he's been occupying, lingering for just a moment before claiming some unfinished business that sounds distinctly like a lie.

He's gone in an instant, leaving Killian and Emma, side-by-side, in awkward silence. Granny gives them both a curious look as she places her usual order – grilled cheese and onion rings – in front of Emma, before she shuffles away to a distance that seems unobtrusive but where she can still eavesdrop.

Killian clears his throat, glancing at her and forgetting to look away again. "You look even lovelier than I remember, Swan." He doesn't mean to say it, has no right to, but as with all his interactions with Emma, he's unable to control himself.

She's bringing the smallest onion ring to her mouth when he speaks, and it drops back to her plate. She closes her eyes and furrows her brows at his words. Some kind of thanks are mumbled out before she tries to return to her lunch, but the same onion ring gets set back down as she abandons her food altogether in favor of turning towards him.

As he's been unable to look away since what was supposed to be quick look, he's staring right at her when she looks at him. So many emotions go through her eyes, but there's one buried deep that he catches just a glimpse of, and it looks a lot like hope.

"Listen, can I talk to you for a minute? Is there somewhere we can go?"

Surprised, Killian can only nod and follow as Emma slides off her stool and heads to the back hallway.

"I would uh, I would invite you up to my room but that hardly feels appropriate."

Emma snorts with a small laugh, shifting back and forth on her feet as she tries to gather her words.

"I have something to show you," she tells him. Her eyes are guarded, but she's suddenly lifting her shirt and he's fussing for her to stop.

"Perhaps I should've suggested my room," he mutters, catching the hem of her sweater and tugging it down forcefully, but Emma does laugh this time.

"Just trust me, okay?"

He lets go of the hem of her sweater and waits. She only lifts it high enough for him to see her ribs, to see the spot he remembers Graham's mark residing, but now there's a faint outline much like his own mark. Worry and dread war for his attention.

"Is Graham…?" The recollection of a heart condition comes back, but Emma shakes her head before he can finish the question.

"He's fine," she tells him, a small smirk on her face. "You told Regina that the only way a soul mark would disappear is if one half passed away."

"Correct. I lost my mark after Milah passed away. I know many other widowers who've lost theirs."

"It's not the only way."

His interest is piqued, but Emma spins on her heel and starts pacing. She's quiet for a time, stopping occasionally to open her mouth as if to speak, before she closes it and starts walking again. There are hand gestures involved, sometimes, as if she's trying to catch the words as they scramble about in her head. She stops at the opposite end of the hallway from him, facing away, her head tilted back so she's gazing at the ceiling, looking for wisdom or strength or the place where the lightning might come through to strike him down (or so he supposes).

"I can't count how many times I practiced this all in my head," she says up to the tiles, the words almost groaned out. "I always thought the first words I would ever say to you again would be 'fuck off' or something along those lines." She starts walking again after she's said it, as if just getting out that much is allowing her to move freely again.

"You and me both, love," he mutters, trying to balance her furious circuit by leaning against the wall.

"Graham came up and met me, and he was sweet. Probably everything I ever dreamed up when I still believed in the fairy tales that Henry reads. He would've bought me the world if I asked." She reaches the end of the hall and starts coming back towards him.

"He visited one weekend when Henry had a school function, and he was so determined to be included in both our lives that he attended it with me. And there's this little girl, Grace, in Henry's class. Her father is a widower, like you. Just this lonely little hatter, and his only connection left in this world was his daughter. And then they met Graham." She stops here, almost directly in front of him, with a smile on her face.

"I was so lost in my own confusion and anger, but I was still so – I still felt…" She struggles to find the words, instead letting the statement trail off in favor of telling the rest of the story. "Graham and I became friends, but there was no attachment. No passion. No great love. And when two soulmates meet and they aren't in love with each other, when they're in love with other people," she practically whispers, looking anywhere but at Killian.

"One day, we both woke up and our marks were just gone." Her voice is light and she starts her pacing again, passing close to Killian but not stopping this time. "So we stayed friends, and he and Jefferson started dating. And soon he was moving in with them. And I went back to just Henry and I. Regina had her own little family with Robin and Roland moving up here. And then when Henry was with them, David and Snow took me in. So I guess it wasn't all bad. But I still hurt. Do you understand?"

She comes back to stand in front of him, this time within arm's reach, her hand pressed over her heart with a sheen of tears in her eyes.

He has to clear his throat before he can find words, because he thinks he knows exactly what she's saying, but all of a sudden, he's afraid for a whole different reason than when he first started this trip. Because if he's wrong…

"Killian."

"Emma, please let me explain."

"What is there to explain? You know, I told Graham everything, after we knew it wasn't going to work out. He told me he wasn't surprised. The file you handed him was so thorough that you included the way I eat my onion rings according to size, and my love of cinnamon in my hot chocolate."

"He asked me to be as detailed as possible. Wanted to know everything he could."

"And that included telling him that Henry wasn't bad at math, that he just gets bored with his multiplication tables? That he wants to be a writer? That an ideal gift when meeting him would be another book of fairy tales because those are his favorite?"

He can't answer, can't even look at her, so he just nods as he looks at the floor.

"Henry stopped me from burning the file. He came home the next day and found me still on the couch and asked where you were. And I don't know if you've ever seen an eleven-year-old cry while also being angry that he was wrong, but it's ugly." Her wanderings bring her back, but she surprises him by leaning against the wall opposite from him. "He told me to open the file and give Graham a chance, because you once told him that soulmates are there so all the lonely people don't have to be. He forgave you fast, because he knew how lonely you must be without yours anymore. And that lonely people make mistakes, kind of like the one I made with Neal."

Killian laughs, but it comes out more as a choked sob. The lad always was way too smart for his own good. He rubs at his eyes to make sure the tears that are threatening to fall won't make an appearance, and when he looks up, he sees Emma watching him closely.

"You highlighted things from Graham's questionnaire and left notes in the margins on what he should work on when it was something I didn't like."

"I wanted to make sure he would love you right, Emma."

"The way you did?"

The question floors him for a moment. Because she says it so matter-of-factly that it doesn't feel like a monumental declaration, but just another utterance in her life.

"The way I still do," he clarifies, even though his mind is reeling and he feels like he needs to sit down.

She lets out the breath she was holding while waiting for him to answer and steps closer.

"Why didn't you call or text or visit after you found out Graham and I weren't going to work out? He told me he sent you a message about the match failing."

He's bloody proud of Tink for holding that so close. "I didn't know," he tells her honestly. "I recused myself from the file after I sent out the exit surveys. Everything has been routed to Tink, and I'm guessing she moved it to the appropriate file. I wasn't sure I could handle receiving a message –"

Emma chooses that moment to lean forward and kiss him, and his heart all but stutters to a stop at the contact. While the kiss is soft, Killian feels like he's going to bruise her hips with the way he clutches them. It's over just as quickly as it began, and then she's resting against the opposite wall and giving him a steady look.

"One time thing," she says, her breath stuttering when she inhales.

"Of course," he murmurs, still stunned from the contact. "Not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of you."

"Good," she tells him.

"Where do we go from here?" he asks her, his voice a little broken but a lot hopeful.

"I'd like to know you without a standardized list of questions. Start over. Think you can handle that?"

"Aye, love. I think I can."

She pushes away from the wall again, standing just the perfect distance away to extend her hand. "Hi. I'm Emma Swan, formerly known as case number 15-2754."

"Killian Jones," he says, reaching out and pulling her hand to brush his lips across her knuckles like when they first met. "It's a pleasure to meet you."