A/N 1 - I feel like we need some fluff. I hope this helps with the angst we're all suffering from.

What was she doing here? Another Friday night, another "Girl's Night Out" class that her friends had talked her into signing up for. Of course they were all about these art classes. Glass blowing, paint nights, etching, drawing, and now this? Pottery. 'Come for Girl's Night Out! We'll have fun.' She always ended up with a headache and a shitty piece of art.

Emma was just not one for the frivolity. There was only so much oohing and ahhing and screeching she could tolerate while she feigned interest as the girls exchanged their latest dating stories. But she could never say no to her sister, Mary Margaret, or be rude to their mutual best friend, Ruby. So she found herself in girl hell, with Ruby, Mary Margaret and several of their other friends, yet again.

At least tonight there was wine? Yes, that was a question. While on Emma's side, it made it easier to bear when she could have a few glasses of wine, it also made the other girl's shrieks just a little bit shriller.

It wasn't that she didn't love Mary Margaret and Ruby, truly she did. But she loved them minus the gaggle. She loved it when it was just the three of them, and she felt like she could be herself. When she didn't have to put on the facade of "everything is perfect" happiness. Nights like tonight, well, these were hell.

But here she was, with a full glass of Pinot Grigio, because damn it if wine was available she was going to take full advantage. She camped out in front of the furthest to the back potter's wheel in the studio, waiting for the instructor to finally come in.

Killian knew what kind of night was in store for him. Booking these "Girl's Nights Out" had been a great way to help balance the books at the studio, helping to keep them afloat. Pottery was not exactly the most lucrative of the arts. Some nights he just really, really wasn't in the mood for the woman who attended. Usually it was gatherings of book clubs who had given up on actually reading the books, or sorority alumni groups. Tonight he understood it was just a group of friends. He really hoped they were well behaved. Luckily they didn't actually use the kiln, so there were few chances that anyone got injured, just he didn't want to babysit tonight. His studio partner, Jefferson, usually helped, but tonight he'd called in sick so he had the group to himself.

He'd been in the back preparing the clay when they entered, and based on the rise in the decibel level alone he knew he was in trouble. He was pretty sure tonight would be one of the groups where only about 4 of the woman actually even finished anything, and the rest just stood around and watched.

He took a deep breath and finally walked out to introduce himself to the group.

"Hello, ladies. I'm Killian. Which one of you lovely ladies is Ruby?" All the ladies turned to see where the English accent hand come from, and had not been disappointed when they saw the gorgeous, dark haired man with the scruff.

"That's me." A leggy brunette raised her glass and saluted. "See girls, I told you. My friend said he's hot. And, listen to that accent!"

"RUBY!" He turned to find the voice that had so quickly admonished her friend. "I'm sorry, Killian. You'll have to excuse my friend. You'll be getting a lot more of that tonight, I'm sure."

His heart hit his chest when he saw her. Long blonde hair, porcelain skin, green eyes. The instructions the studio sends around prior to coming in directs all class takers to dress comfortably, wearing long sleeved cotton shirts, jeans, closed toed shoes, and hair pulled back. She'd clearly read the instructions and followed them to the letter. Grungy, stained jeans and a faded t shirt, and yet he'd never seen anyone so beautiful in all his life.

Trying not to gawk he turned his attention back to Ruby. As she was the one who'd booked the night, he went over the particulars of the agreement, finalizing the details of payment, and ensuring everyone was there. Once that had all been taken care of, he called everyone over to the center of the room.

"All right, I know you're all anxious to start at the wheels, but there's actually a lot of prep work we need to do to the clay before we get to that point." He outlined all the steps they would be taking, wedging the clay to remove the air, centering it on the wheel, and then finally working on the wheel. There was a lot of work ahead of them, and he could tell he'd already lost a few of the women. Taking a quick glance at the blonde, he was encouraged to see that she was listening intently, and had followed the instructions taking her clay to the table to start working it. His heart would have been crushed if she'd followed the others to the table with the wine.

Over the course of the evening, most of the women were content to watch him throw his pot, having given up as soon as they couldn't get their clay centered. He actually went from wheel to wheel, centering the clay for each of them. He hated when people didn't have an end product, and usually ended up making a small bowl for each participant to pretend they'd made themselves.

He made his way over to the blonde. She'd been working quietly on her wheel, and had made progress, having followed every single one of his instructions.

"That's quite good, love. You have natural talent."

She looked up startled, and accidentally knocked one of the edges of her bowl. Her eyes widened in horror.

"AH, no worries…" He wanted to fill in with her name, and realized he didn't know it.

He knelt down next to her, instructing her to keep the wheel moving at the same speed, and put his hands over hers, showing her exactly how to put the edge back into place. Within a minute the bowl was as good as new.

"I think it's finished, love. We won't be firing these tonight, but I'll show you the glazing colors to pick from. We get your details, fire them and have them delivered to you."

A week later Emma arrived to find a box that must have been hand delivered. She smiled when she noticed the pottery studio's logo on the outside, and picked it up and carried it inside.

When she opened it she was amazed. It was better than she even remembered. She knew that she had done good work that night, but seeing it completed confirmed it. She had selected a blue glaze, and it was gorgeous. She took it into her bedroom and put it next to her bed.

That night, as she was falling asleep, she looked at it and remembered how relaxing she found the class, despite the rest of the women there. She decided she'd sign up for a solo class.

If the feel of the instructor's hands on hers, the memory of his accent, or the blue of his eyes, factored into it, she didn't admit it to herself.

Wednesday nights were beginner classes. These were some of Killian's favorite nights to teach. All types of students, from middle school students to the elderly, were there for all sorts of reasons. But they were all there because they wanted to learn. He spent Wednesday evenings going around the studio giving each student whatever help they needed, depending on whatever they were working on that night.

So when he saw Emma walk in the door it didn't register at first. Jefferson had gone over and gotten her started and given her clay to work. It wasn't until a full 15 minutes later when he finished up with one of the regulars that he realized who it was standing at the bench working the clay. He went over to correct her wedging technique, and she looked up a little sheepishly.

"Hello, love. Fancy seeing you here." She smiled. "See, you've got to push the clay away from you, like this." He looked at her, silently asking permission to work the clay for her, and she stepped back. Watching his hands as he deftly pushed through the tough earth, she couldn't help but admire his strength. "Did you learn nothing last time?" he teased her.

At that she laughed. "It was a little hard, with the girls and all. That's kind of why I'm back. When I could ignore them all, I realized I found it really relaxing. I wanted to give it another try." He still hadn't given her the clay back, and the two just stood silently, shoulder to shoulder as he worked it. It wasn't until another student called for Killian's attention that he realized he hadn't given it back, and he shook himself out of a daydream.

"Emma Swan, right? Look, your clay is ready for the wheel. Take it over and I'll be over in a second to help you get it centered. It won't do you any good to start trying to do anything if it's not centered."

Jefferson noticed his partner's interest in the blonde, and stepped up that night, quickly moving to take care of anyone's questions, leaving Killian to assist Emma the rest of the evening. At the end of the night, she had a coffee mug, and a smile on her face that Killian would remember the rest of his life.

As he helped her pick the glaze for the mug he commented again on her skill. "I'm serious, love. Natural talent. You should really consider signing up for regular classes." She tried to brush off the compliment, but he wouldn't let her. "Come back Friday night. That's the night we glaze. I'll help you throw something more difficult, and you can learn how we use the kiln. Please, you'll enjoy it."

He looked at her with his blue eyes, and there was no way she could say no.

She came back on Friday, and realized it was just her, Killian, and Jefferson. And beer. She was offered a bottle as soon as she walked through the door. The easy atmosphere was exactly what she needed after a long day, and she settled into working with the two guys easily. At first, they were serious about getting everything dipped and carefully placed into the kiln, but once it was fired up, the joking started.

Killian took her into the studio, and worked with her on the wheel, teaching her some new techniques that would allow for thinner walls on her bowl, allowing for more delicate work in the future. Within an hour, she had a very fine piece that he then showed her how to lift the edges on, and it looked like a clover within seconds. She was speechless.

As they'd worked, Jefferson had been working on a piece as well. She found out quite a bit about the two. Killian had moved here 10 years ago to be closer to his brother, and met Jefferson in art school. Jefferson was an odd duck, and Killian quietly said it was too many years with experimental drugs back in college, but that he was a good guy. She liked him. She liked seeing their friendship. Eventually Jefferson left to get to a date, leaving her alone with Killian.

She was nervous. She was glad she'd had a couple beers. She was glad to hear the beeping of the timer on the kiln.

When she hopped up thinking they were going to start unloading, he pulled her back down, and she landed close to him on the couch they'd been sitting on in the back of the studio.

"Where do you think you're going, love?"

"Don't we have to unload the kiln?"

He laughed. "Not if you don't want to get burned. We stay here while the kiln's going to make sure it doesn't catch fire and burn the place down, but we can't unload it until tomorrow when it's not a billion degrees. Nothing left to do tonight."

Her eyes settled on his, and her body registered just how close they were.

"Oh." The beer was doing nothing to help her nerves at this point. "I guess I should get going then. Don't want to keep you here later than you need to be." She moved to stand up again, and he gently took her hand.

"You don't need to go. Or, if you do need to go, I understand. Just, I'd like to see you again. I mean, outside of class." She realized that she heard the same nervousness in his voice that she herself felt. She sat back down, not letting go of his hand, and smiled at him.

"I don't need to go, not just yet." When his lips met hers she knew the heat she felt wasn't from the adjacent furnace.

Over the next two months, Emma became quite the expert potter. She spent a lot of time at Killian's studio, both in official classes and just there hanging out with Jefferson and Killian while they worked. She threw on her own while they did, and he hadn't been lying when he said she had natural talent. He counted Emma among his best students, and it was soon that he graduated her from the Wednesday night beginner classes to the Tuesday night intermediate classes.

Even love hadn't blinded him to the point where he was having her join the Thursday night advanced classes.

He was in love. But something told him she wasn't ready to hear that yet. He knew something was holding her back, and he was fine with that. He got the impression she'd been hurt in the past, and didn't want to pressure her.

So they hung out in the studio, threw pots, and on nights when they were both free, would go out on proper dates.

He once asked about meeting her friends, officially. But she brushed it off. She said that it was more than what she wanted to subject him to, and he should really thank her for it. It was said with a kiss, but he couldn't help but be troubled by it. He loved her, and it wouldn't do if she wouldn't open up her life to him.

But he could wait until she was ready.

Mary Margaret and Ruby arrived with a bottle of wine and dessert, and curiosity as to why Emma had skipped almost every social engagement with them for the past two months. It was her turn to host their monthly dinner, a tradition that no one was allowed to cancel on, ever. The two were ready to finally get answers out of their best friend and sister.

As soon as they walked in, they started pestering her with questions about what was going on.

It was Ruby who started to notice it first.

"Emma, this is a nice vase. Where'd you get it?" Emma turned a tiny bit red as she noticed the blue pottery vase Ruby was holding up. It was something she had finished last week, and Killian had just delivered to her the night before.

"Oh, I just found that at a store last week."

Mary Margaret continued. "Look at this one. This is gorgeous." She pointed to the platter that sat on Emma's dinette table. It was actually a masterpiece of Killian's. The pottery portion of the piece itself wasn't that complicated, but the glazing pattern had been complicated, and he'd been quite proud to show it off to her. And she'd been touched when he said he wanted her to have it.

The two women spent all night questioning all of the pottery in Emma's apartment, never letting up.

But Emma never cracked. It wasn't until Mary Margaret went into use the restroom, which you couldn't get to without going through Emma's bedroom, and came out holding a ceramic ring holder, holding it out to Ruby.

"Ruby, she's got a ring holder? Emma, what's going on?"

Emma closed her eyes, giving herself a moment to collect her thoughts before answering.

"Remember that night we did Girl's Night Out at the pottery studio?"

Ruby answered first. "Yeah, and that super hot English guy who taught the, OH MY GOD. Emma have you been getting some?"

Emma rolled her eyes, and didn't dignify that with a response. She turned more to Mary Margaret to continue her story. "Well, it turned out I really enjoyed it, and I started going back to take private classes."

"I bet they were private classes," Ruby interjected.

"RUBY!" Mary Margaret shushed her. "Do you want to hear this or not? Emma, please, continue."

"Well, as Ruby so delicately put it, Killian is super hot, but he's also really nice, and smart and funny. We started hanging out, and, well one thing's led to another and we're" Emma crinkled up her face, not believing she was about to admit this for the first time, "kind of seeing each other.

The two friends couldn't have had more different reactions. While Mary Margaret responded with a "Oh Emma, that's so wonderful" and pulled Emma in for a hug, Ruby yelled, "Hot Damn! How is he in bed?"

Emma rolled her eyes at Ruby, but took the two on a tour of the apartment, this time giving them the real backstory on all of the pieces of pottery they'd admired earlier. They were both impressed, not just by Killian's pieces, but by how good Emma had become since their one class.

When her two friends left for the night, as she hugged them both goodbye, she was surprised to have Ruby whisper in her ear. "I'm really happy for you Emma, truly. You deserve this." Ruby never treated anything as less than a joking matter, so to have her friend be so sincere really touched her.

It was late when her friends left, but she texted Killian the second they walked out the door. She told them her friends knew. She felt like it was important that she let him know.

He showed up fifteen minutes later, just as she was about to crawl into bed. He looked sleepy, with his hair mussed, and wearing his pyjamas. She smiled at the sight. "What are you doing here? Not that I mind."

"Can't I just want to see my girl?" He asked, as he shuffled into the living room and pulled her into a hug. Her text informing him that she'd told her friends had woken him, and the news had made him happy. So happy that he wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep without seeing her. So he did the only thing he could think of. He got in his car and drove over to her house.

She rested her head on his chest and slipped her arms around his waist before answering. "I think that's allowable." She then stepped back, leading him into her bedroom.

"Come on, sleepyhead. Let's get you put to bed." He yawned, and she realized just how late it was. He probably shouldn't have even driven.

She tucked him in and crawled in, preparing to curl up, head on his chest. "Swan." She lifted her head up a little, looking at his face. He yawned. "I'm glad you told your friends." He rolled over on his side, making it impossible for her to put her head on his chest as planned, so instead she spooned up against him, pulling his arm over her shoulder.

"Swan."

"Yes, Killian?"

"I love you."

Emma stilled slightly speechless at his semi-conscious admission. Did that really count that he said it while he was asleep? But what she realized as she thought about it was that it didn't matter. She loved him, and even if he did only say it because he was asleep, she could tell him back.

She rolled over, pushing him back, so that he woke up.

"Killian." He looked at her slightly stunned to be awake again, eyes wide open. "I love you too." She kissed him. As they broke apart, both breathed deeply and smiled. "Now go to sleep.

As Emma fell asleep that night, looking at her little blue bowl, she thought about the man next to her, and the feel of his hands on hers, and his blue eyes, and how much she loved him, and couldn't have been happier.

A/N 1 - Practice, practice, practice. So… criticism is welcome.

A/N 2 - This was inspired by JMo's Instagram of the coffee mug she threw. I was a fine arts major, and it's been years since I've thrown anything on a wheel but it's crazy relaxing. I was going to send it to someone as a prompt, but the more I thought about it the more concrete it got in my mind and I just ended up writing it myself. And yes, I have taken some liberties with the process.

A/N 3 - I kind of don't like how severe I sound on "Girls Nights Out" in the first bit. They are my versions of hell, but I don't mean to make it sound like I think other people shouldn't enjoy them.