A/N: Here's the last chapter. At the end of the night, David and Killian share a meal, a fire and their thoughts on the events of the day. Thanks again to everyone who read this. You are all the icing on my cake. :)

The house was dark when David got home, but he could see a flickering light out the windows on the ocean view side of the house. He set a take out box on the counter and grabbed a beer from the fridge before picking it up again as he headed out the back door to the beach.

Killian had a fire blazing in the small pit they had dug in the sand just outside their back deck. It was a bit of a summer time ritual for them to meet there Sunday nights after a long week of cooking for the masses to wind down before their day off on Monday. They'd drink some beers and listen to the waves and sometimes fall asleep in their beach chairs if the weather was warm enough or the fire burned long. David certainly appreciated being able to either sit in silence or complain about something he knew for certain his companion would understand without extra explanations. As much as he loved Mary Margaret — and she was a great listener — sometimes Killian would give him the perfect piece of advice to solve whatever issue he was having with the restaurant or his plans for it. Their Sunday night discussions had, more often than not, been all the difference between having a restaurant and having a great restaurant — today notwithstanding.

David kicked off his shoes and sunk his toes into the sand and took a deep breath. The now cool grains surrounding his feet, relieved the heat he still carried from being behind the grill and stoves all night. The tension in his body drained into the ground like seaweed being pulled out by the tide. He took another deep breath and just stood quietly for a moment letting the mayhem of the day slide off under the gaze of the moon. The stars shone brightly against the dark canvas of the limitless night overhead. David loved looking at the stars because it helped him put things in perspective. Especially on a day like today. He was grateful to be home and done with all the crap. No doubt Killian was as well.

He could see his housemate, slouched in his low chair, beer bottle dangling from his fingers, and his feet at a safe distance from the dancing flames of the small fire, but close enough to enjoy its warmth against the slight ocean breeze. He could see tousled hair sticking up over the edge of the back of the chair, backlit from the fire's shifting colors, and wondered if he was asleep yet. Wouldn't be the first time Killian was conked out before David even made it home.

David trod heavily through the thick layer of sand, and practically collapsed into his own chair which was within arm's reach of Killian's. Killian, not remotely surprised to have company, turned to David at the sound of his deep sigh as he finally took a load off his feet.

"Long day?" Killian asked sardonically.

The light from the fire flashed across Killian's face causing the butterfly bandage stuck to the bridge of his nose to stand out against the shadows of his eyes. David winced.

"Ouch. Sorry, man. Emma texted Mary Margaret earlier and told her what happened. I certainly never meant for things to get bloody," he apologized.

"Can we...can we please not talk about blood?" Killian asked with a distinct look of disgust. "Passing out once today was enough."

"Right. Sorry. Forgot about the whole...you know...thing you have with that. And if you do pass out, I'm leaving you here. Too damn tired to haul you up to your room," David sighed. He held out the takeout box to Killian. "I brought you dinner."

Killian reached down with his empty hand and picked up another take out box and exchanged with David. "Same," he said. "Ended up making fisherman's pie since all my lobsters seemed to have skittered off."

David looked perplexed. "Imagine that. Maybe they ran off with my short ribs. Enjoy the shepherd's pie I had to make instead," David said, eagerly popping open the still steaming box of food.

Killian sat up in his chair and opened his box, breathing in the aroma of the lamb, potatoes, and vegetables, his eyes drifting shut, and a slow smile breaking across his face. David would, no doubt, have been pleased to see this if he weren't already completely distracted by the fisherman's pie he was shoveling into his face in a manner his cooking school teachers would have been scandalized by if they had seen it. Truth was, this was his absolute favorite dish of Killian's and he couldn't help himself.

"Oh...God...Killian. So...good...uhnn," David groaned. The fish practically melted in his mouth it was so tender and flaky, and the sauce was creamy with just a dash of spice and...and...huh? His words finally caught up to his ears and he looked over at Killian who had paused the movement of his fork mid way from the box to his open mouth, his eyebrow defying gravity in its attempt to reach his hairline.

David swallowed the rather large mouthful of fish and prawns carefully, trying not to choke on his foodgasm. "Heh...heh...can we just pretend I didn't say that?" he asked sheepishly.

Killian shook his head as he finished putting the forkful of shepherd's pie into his own mouth. "Sorry, mate. Can't unhear that one," he uttered before swallowing. "Besides, I feel the same way about this," Killian continued, poking his dinner with the fork. "This is even better than the crepes, and you know how much I love those."

For the next several minutes, both men savored every bite of their meals until the boxes were scraped clean and the forks licked of every last morsel of their respective pies. In unison, they each sat back in their chair and gave a contented sigh, Killian rubbing his (unusually shirted) stomach. David glanced over at Killian who had his eyes closed and seemed to be listening to the melody of the lapping of waves on the shore and the crackle of the fire.

"The, uh, rodeo clown was a nice touch," he said breaking the silence. Killian chuckled but kept his eyes closed.

"Aye. As were the protesting mermaids in spite of my run-in with their blasted signage. Next time though, if you are trying to hide your involvement, you might want to enlist the help of someone I don't know. I remembered meeting Ariel at Mary Margaret's book club meeting she had on your side of the house a couple of weeks ago."

David nodded. "Huh. I had forgotten about that myself. Hopefully there won't be a next time."

"Agreed, mate," Killian said. "So, why'd you do it? Sabotage my chance?" he asked with more curiosity than anger.

"The grapefruit spoon. It was obvious enough you were conflicted about the whole Inspector thing given you sharpened every knife and pointy thing in the house, but you sharpened the fucking grapefruit spoon. Who does that?" David asked with a shake of his head as he pressed his lips together and frowned. "Anyway, I knew as soon as I saw that, you didn't really want that three-star rating, but that you were trying to put on a good face. I just figured I'd make sure you didn't get it," he offered with a shrug. "What about you? How'd you know?"

Killian smiled, his teeth glittering in the firelight. "The crepes. And, really, they were the best batch you've ever made. I knew with the first bite that you were worried at the prospect of dealing with that kind of surge in business. Honestly, mate, you are one hell of a chef when you are terrified."

"Kinda tough to maintain though."

"Aye. That it is. That it is," Killian agreed. "We've got a good thing going just the way it is, don't we?"

"Yeah. We do. I don't want to be a slave to the restaurant. I'm pretty happy with the balance we have."

"So...here's to...fucking things up on purpose!" Killian toasted, his beer bottle pointed at David.

David tapped the neck of his bottle to Killian's with a solid "clank." "Here here!"

Killian tossed another log onto the fire from the small pile of firewood he had stashed by his chair. It sent sparks up into the night sky, and whatever moisture had been hiding inside it popped loudly when it hit the flames, sending them higher and extending the circle of warmth out just a little more.

"Did you invite your crew over tomorrow for surf and turf?" Killian asked.

"Yup," David said with a yawn. "You?"

"Mmmhmm," Killian answered right before echoing David's yawn. "Sent them all a text when I got home."

"I put the lobsters in the downstairs walk-in with the ribs. Probably should hit the sack now so we can get up and start cooking again," David suggested, his eyes drifting closed.

"You go ahead, I'll wait here until the fire dies down some," Killian said. "Night, Dave," he added with one last yawn.

"Night, Killian," David said in a sleepy voice.

Within moments, both men were snoring under the summer sky full of the only stars either of them were truly interested in.