a.n.: so it's been over 4 months since I updated this and I am terribly sorry for it. Life got in the way and then the lack of imagination or where to go from a certain point in the chapter. So if the chapter seems a bit off, I'm getting back in there ok.

Sorry, but I do hope you can enjoy this one, and I'll try not to keep you hanging for another 4 months for an update.

Chapter 12

"What is SHE doing here?" Cora bristled when she entered the classroom with Henry next to her. His sullen expression immediately disappearing into a smile when he saw Emma already seated in a chair opposite Mary-Margaret's desk.

"Well, Mrs Mills… Emma is Henry's mother."

"Henry's mother is currently out of town. Whatever she thinks she is, she has no business here."

Emma clenched her fist.

"Mrs Mills, please." Mary-Margaret pacified for the sake of Henry but was quickly squeaking as a mouse when Cora's glare focused on her.

"Mrs Mills, I only want…" Emma started calmly but the woman held out her hand, halting her mid-phrase.

"What you want is of no import. In the absence of my daughter I am Henry's legal guardian. And I don't want you near him." She didn't even spare Emma a glance. The superior air about her making Emma agree with Henry's choice of the Queen of Hearts in his story. Superior but cold, so, so cold.

Mary- Margaret was ready to go into a counter attack when Emma rose from her seat, casting an apologetic smile at Henry.

" Mrs Mills, you forget I am Henry's therapist, I have every reason to know about his progress in school. And as you are aware, although it pains you, Regina has granted me the privilege of interacting with Henry outside of sessions, has allowed him to know me as his birth mother." Emma was aware her temper was noticeable in her pattern of speech but had little care for it.

This woman… from what Henry had told her was a viper. A snake slithering between the brush and striking when one least expected it. Or to make the reference more biblical; tempting people with her words. And she was good at whispers, especially so when concerning her daughter.

"Yes," she drawled, "He is aware you gave him up the minute they cut the cord. Now… am I going to have to take this up with Mr. Spencer or can we get on with this PTA meeting."

"That's enough!" Henry yelled, his eyes filled to the brim with tears as all three adults turned to him. Emma's glare turning into a look of utter sadness as her son ran out of the room.

"Henry…" His name escaped her lips and she moved to go after him when Cora forcefully grabbed her arm.

"I think you've done more than enough already Miss Swan. Come near my grandson again and I'll file for a restraining order." Cora threatened and left the room to go after Henry. Even though her leisure like pace was enough to know she could care less where her grandson turned up.

"Emma…" Mary-Margaret started but Emma simply smiled at her friend, hoping it was convincing enough for her not to worry. But the worried crease that appeared on Mary-Margaret's face informed her that she failed. Which, quite frankly, made her decision to not return to the apartment right-away much easier. No doubt Mary-Margaret would be calling David to let him know what had happened and she could do without the baby-sitting.

"It's okay Mary-Margaret. I'll leave you to the rest of the kids okay." Before she could say anything else in reply, Emma left the classroom.

When Killian had called up Jefferson in an attempt to get the man out for a drink he had held little hope of his friend actually agreeing. If there wasn't the matter of finding a sitter for Grace, there was also the matter that Killian Jones had been a selfish human being, had been a terrible friend. Wallowing in self-pity and in mourning had done little to stimulate a friendship that had started way back when he was still a thief and Jefferson had joined the crew in need of the money; there was a baby on the way after all.

But to his surprise Jefferson agreed immediately, Grace being at a sleepover and he wasn't opposed to a night out.

That is how they found themselves walking to The Snuggly Duckling at 9 pm, ready to move past their recent troubles, or at least take steps in that direction.

"What do you mean you've been seeing the old gang?"

Killian chuckled, "Flynn is hardly the 'old gang' Jeff."

Jefferson grimaced. "I just... I didn't know you were still seeing people from… before."

Another comment like that and Killian would think Jefferson was acting like this on purpose to make him laugh. To make him act like before.

"Jeff, you guys ARE from Before. I just happened to find Flynn's bar on night and I visit every once and a while."

They were both smiling when they neared The Snuggly Duckling, already reliving a few choice moments from when they were both still in the trade, when they saw Flynn rushing out of the bar.

"Hey Flynn where's the fire?"

A frazzled answer about something that's coming was given to them as the only explanation to his question before his favorite bartender disappeared into his car and sped off. While Killian updated Jefferson ("Flynn's wife is ready to pop out the baby") and Jefferson smiled even wider than before turning in the direction of The Rabbit Hole (All the more reason to go out for a drink then yes?") Kilian couldn't help but feel… bereft.

He could have had this with Milah. Not that they had talked about it before… she was leaving her son behind to be with him (not that she wanted to) after all so it was hardly the time to talk about starting a family. But they could have, he knew that. She had been the one for him, he would have been more than happy to start a family.

"Killian?"

Jefferson voice pulled him from his thoughts, not having noticed he hadn't been following Jefferson.

"Yeah… yeah, celebratory drinks that way."

-.-

He'd noticed her the minute they walked in with a sideway glance. Long golden waves covering her back, reminding him of a certain blonde he hadn't been able to get out of his head since the other night. She'd been on edge that morning and all he could (finally) remember was what he told her and the faint feeling of fingers running through his hair.

He resented her for it; being able to uncover things he'd buried in the corner of his mind, reserved for his private self-loathing.
She kept pushing, with one gesture, one word and she was able to crawl underneath his skin. It both fascinated and unnerved him.

"Isn't that your therapist?"

(Shit.)

"Where?" Jones feigned ignorance, but the look Jefferson gave him said it all.

"Where you've been 'oh so subtly' staring at, at the bar." Jefferson chuckled only to turn serious the minute after.

"Are you allowed to be here?" He wondered, not remembering the repercussions which followed their last visit- coinciding with Jones' bar fight.

"Of course I'm allowed." Jones answered curtly and got up, patting his back pocket for his wallet.
"Beer, right?" and he left before Jefferson could even give him an answer.

"Miss Swan" he greeted, only to hear it being answered with a groan after her sideway glance.

"Really? Is there any bar in this forsaken town you don't frequent?"

He grinned.

"Well you know what they say lass, of all the bars in all the world…"

"Save it Bogart" she grumbled as she signaled for a refill.

"And two beers if you please." He added, earning a scoff from the blonde next to him.

"Back to the bottle so soon Mr. Jones" she remarked, knowing full well the hypocrisy of it when he looked at her flushed complexion and heard the slur in her speech.

"All in good celebration miss Swan. Our mutual friend has become a father."

She visibly grimaced and immediately took hold of her refill, holding it out to Jones as a mock toast.

"Three cheers for parenthood." She downed it in one go with the same ease one would drink water. He frowned at her behavior. He might have been excellent at downing a large quantity of alcohol and he knew she wasn't exactly a light-weight either. But being a mother herself he didn't think she would react to the happy news like this.

She stumbled into him when getting off her barstool, pushing away before he could steady her. She had thrown a few bills on the bar and turned to leave him, bumping into a lot of chairs and tables on her way out.

This was definitely not the Swan he'd gotten to know.

A conversation about drowning demons suddenly very vivid in his mind as the bartender cursed in front of him.

"How much did she have?" he asked, to which the bartender sighed.

"10$ short of a paid off tab apparently."

Killian looked at the bills he was holding, at least 70$ to his calculation and he cursed underneath his breath. So Killian pulled out his wallet, paid for his bears and placed an extra 10 $ on the bar, telling him the lady's tab was closed and took his beers from the bar.

Internally he was cursing her. He shouldn't care. She was his therapist, a stranger he'd known for only a few months.

(But he'd learned about the look of loss in her eyes and how it seemed to fade just a bit when she was with her lad. How she'd push her tongue to the inside of her cheek combined with a side glance when he hinted at that past she didn't want to discuss. He'd definitely liked it when he learned that the corner of her mouth would just lift a tiny bit when he said something funny, but she was too stubborn/professional to admit it. )

He shouldn't care that she'd left the bar drunk and unbalanced – and absolutely plagued by her own demons . But he did.

When he reached their table, Jefferson simply took the beer and told him to go after her.

(I know, go.)

And so he did.

The wind hit him hard, making him shiver with the contrast that was the heating system down in The Rabbit Hole. He scanned his surroundings, she couldn't have gone far. When he spotted her clinging awfully hard to the lamp post a few feet away he couldn't help but smile. He slowly came up to her, seeing her eyes were closed.

"Old acquaintance of yours Swan?" he joked, not being able to resist.

"Go away." She groaned.

"Not a chance love." He replied, her eyes fluttering open at his answer.

"I don't need your help Jones." She replied and tried to let go of the lamp post, unfortunately a wave of dizziness seemed to overwhelm her and he found her right back in his arms. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol that had worked its way in her system or his imagination but she was slow in pushing away this time, her head lingering a few seconds on his shoulder before there was even a remote hint to a shove at his abdomen.

"Let go."

"You stubborn lass." He groaned and pulled her arm around him, while he placed the other one around her shoulders as he tried to steady her.

"Which way?" he noticed she was ready to protest again by the attempted removal of her arm but he kept a firm grip on it with his prosthetic. "And don't try to push me away. I'm not leaving before I get you home."

She begrudgingly told him the address but let him pull her along anyway.

(You don't really practice what you preach do you?)

(I don't need to explain myself to you Jones.)

(Aye. So why should I listen to you then?)

They stayed quiet for a while. He was certain it would stay that way until they arrived at her place but then she surprised him for the second time that night.

"I got into an argument with Henry's grandmother. I… as long as Regina isn't home from her business trip I'm not allowed to see my son."

He looked at her but she was watching straight ahead, trying to walk a bit faster. Now that she was drunk her walls had dropped a bit and he could feel her thinking. If she walked faster, she'd be less tempted to fill the silence with her chatter.

"Can she do that?" he asked, curious and … rather tempted to get the most out of her unguarded state.

"Closed adoption. I relinquished every right."

He smiled, it seemed typical her – to use fancy words when plastered.

"You'll figure something out. I've yet to see you fail."

With a speed unknown she was still able to use she looked up at him. Green eyes wide and puzzled as they gazed into the brightest of blues.

"I need to throw up." She warned and emptied her stomach conents onto the street.

(and maybe a bit on his shoes.)

By the time they reached her appartment she had slumped against him, Killian blamed it on sudden fatigue. But that did not refrain her from trying to push away as they entered the lobby.

"This is a door to door delivery Swan. So, up we go."

She giggled- clearly still intoxicated but it was very endearing and he couldn't help but smile because of it. her stumble into the hall – he clearly shouldn't have let her get out of the elevator alone- made her laugh out loud, making him smile once more. But that smile was shortly lived as the door across from her opened, revealing a tall man Killian only knew too well.

"Mr. Jones."

"Officer Nolan." he swallowed nervously, " Good evening."