"You know you have to actually lift the glass to your lips to drink the vodka."

Emma lifted her gaze from the glass of icy spirit and smiled.

"Funnily enough I had heard that before, Jones."

"And here I was thinking that I had stumbled upon something revelatory."

He gestured to the seat beside her and she nodded, waiting until he ordered a drink.

It was Tuesday and The Rabbit Hole sports bar was just about as empty as she had ever seen it. She was glad of it - the last thing she needed now was to deal with a bunch of drunks even if she really wanted to get drunk herself.

His order came, alongside another vodka for her, and he paid with a crisp ten pound note before settling into the stool beside her.

"So, Swan, what brings you to Wimbledon's only American sports bar tonight?"

He grinned, his smile bright despite how tired he looked.

"I could ask you the same," she replied, nodding at what remained of his business attire - tie askew and shirt sleeves pushed up.

"I asked first," he quipped, "But since you must know, today I got a new job and I thought it appropriate to celebrate."

"The one at Graham's company?"

He nodded. "Yep, you are looking at the new deputy marketing manager for Mills Media."

Emma smiled. She knew how much Killian had wanted a promotion and it just wasn't happening in his current position. At least someone had good news that day.

"That's great," she sighed softly, staring longingly into her vodka, before quickly adding, "My visa renewal was declined today."

"Declined?"

"Apparently there have been some changes to the law and private detectives are not considered to be on the list of 'needed skills'."

"But your business- Emma, you've been set up in London for two years now, how can they expect you to just leave that?"
She shrugged. Fact was, the realisation was only just sinking in, almost five hours after a tense meeting with her solicitor. "I'm not sponsored by anyone, so as far as they are concerned my business interests bare no weight in their decision."

She downed the last of the drink she had been nursing when he arrived, the ice freezing her throat so she had to bite back the urge to choke. She then pulled the second glass towards her, savouring the burn that the vodka was now producing in her gut. A few more and she'd be able to forget about all this, at least for the night.

"So what will you do?"

"What can I? I guess I'll head back to Boston and then, think of something. I still have a few contacts there."

Fact was, she'd closed the door on her life there the moment she stepped on the plane to London Heathrow 26 months earlier. The only things left in the city for her now were bad memories and bad blood.

"But your life is here."

"You try telling that to vVsas and Immigration."

There had always been a chance that this would happen. Her solicitor had been very frank when she had started the process of filing her papers, but she had hoped that things would turn out for the best. She liked London. Really liked it. She'd formed this great group of friends - both locals and expats - who were more like family than the family she never had, and now it was all going to be cruelly ripped away from her.

Killian shifted beside her, swinging so he was facing her on the wooden bar stool.

"Marry me."

She looked at him, her mouth agog.

"Excuse me?"

He took a quick breath, before leaning in a little closer so their faces were inches apart.

"Marry me. Then you can get residency."

His blue eyes shone with sincerity. Emma couldn't quite believe what he was suggesting

"What? No. That's ridiculous. I can't marry you, I don't love you, like that I mean, I-"

Lips curved into a smile, he tilted his head, "And nor do I feel "that way" for you. This is merely me offering my services to get a good friend out of a quandary."

She paused a second and took a sip of her vodka. He was serious, she could tell. She'd always been good at spotting a lie and this seemed like too far a joke even for Killian. Emma shook her head.

"I can't marry you Killian. What if you want to, you know, I mean if you met someone…"

He placed his hand over hers where it rested beside her half empty glass.

"Look, love, it's not like I plan on getting married 'for real' any time soon, or ever for that matter. We've known each other long enough to make it seem legit - friends falling for each other and all that bullshit."

"You're really serious aren't you?" she wondered, still slightly dazed by the day's events.
"As a heart attack."

She weighed up the pros and cons.

Pros: she needed a visa and he was a citizen. He was a decent guy- even if they'd only gotten close recently, he'd been a mutual friend for a long time. It wasn't like she had any other options right then.

Cons: she was pretty certain that a visa marriage was illegal. Not to mention having to explain to everyone what was going on - would they lie? Would they tell the truth? And there would have to be a wedding -and it all seemed so complicated.

"I can practically see the cogs turning, Swan."

"I don't know, Killian, it seems risky. And a little crazy."

"Do you trust me?"

Looking into his eyes, she reminded herself she did trust him. His heart was always in the right place even if his love of rum sometimes got the better of him. She knew he wouldn't screw her over. And if she had to pretend to be married to someone for a while, it didn't hurt that he was just about one of the most handsome guys she'd ever met. Slowly, she nodded.

"Then at least let us investigate this. It could work."

She did really want to stay. She thought of everything she would have to leave behind - her business, her friends - his friendship-

Her heart began to pound like crazy as the decision to at least consider this was made.

"Okay, let's... investigate."

He reached out his hand, his large palm covering hers as they shook on it, a broad grin on his face as if he just couldn't wait to commit fraud against the government. She chuckled, holding her other hand to her mouth. "Fuck, this is insane."

He picked up his rum and swirled it around his glass, looking every inch like he had fallen out of some 1940s film noir.

"No love, this is where the fun begins."

And with the smile he gave her, she felt her stomach drop.

In the good way.