Emma's alarm clock woke her abruptly.

With a yawn and a few mumbled curses, she reached for it and pressed snooze. She knew that she ought to get up and start her morning, but why would she do that when her bed was so soft and warm and –

Her train of thought was derailed when her phone started to ring. Sitting up in her bed, she reached for it, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "Mm, 'ello?" Her voice was still low and rough with sleep, but she didn't mind. It was only Walsh.

He chuckled brightly on the other end and that woke her up a bit. "Good morning, beautiful. How are you?"

"'m fine," she mumbled, shifting in her bed and wedging the phone between her head and her pillow so that she could lie down again. "How about you?"

"I'm okay," Walsh panted. He sounded like he was out of breath, which told Emma that he must have just finished his morning run. He didn't usually call her until he was about to leave for work, but she wasn't opposed to hearing from him so early.

"So, I'm calling because we have that meeting with the caterers tonight at six. Can you meet me at my place?"

Emma's eyes shot open when Walsh finished speaking. The caterers. For the wedding. Her wedding. To him. Sometimes it was too easy for her to forget that he wasn't just her boyfriend anymore. The thought gave her butterflies and nausea at the same time.

How was that even possible?

"Right, caterers," she appeased him, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Six, at your apartment. Got it."

Walsh chuckled at her monotone response and she smiled. She always loved the sound of his laugh. "Good. I'll see you after work then. I love you."

"I love you too," she promised as she hung up the phone and scurried off to the bathroom to take a shower.

After her shower, Emma spent a long while looking over her wardrobe choices for the day. She needed something that was appropriate for the office, but also a little bit on the casual side, since she assumed she wouldn't have time to come back home and change before going to meet up with Walsh.

She settled on a black pencil skirt with a white, long-sleeved peplum top. The hem of the skirt rested just below her knees, and the shape of it was close-fitting, which worked well with the shape and silhouette of the shirt. She decided that the look was professional and still fun, so she'd be able to wear it to work and wouldn't need to change before going to see Walsh.

Before heading out of her apartment for the day, she jumped into her favorite pair of black pumps and put on her red trench coat, giving herself one final look in the mirror before grabbing her purse and heading out to the elevator.

She pressed the down button and waited for only a few moments before the box to her left opened up and she stepped inside. She was greeted by Elsa, a friend of hers that she'd met when she moved into the building a few years ago.

She lived directly above Emma and, to be honest, their first meeting was less than pleasant, what with Emma calling in a noise complaint on Elsa one night when Elsa was blasting Guns 'n Roses at two in the morning.

"Morning, Emma," Elsa greeted her cheerfully, wearing a white top with a grey skirt and matching blazer, carrying her blue coat over one arm.

"Hi, Elsa," Emma smiled and stared at the doors of the elevator as they closed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"How are you?" Elsa asked, putting her cell phone away into the pocket of her coat as she looked at Emma with her eyebrows raised.

"I'm fine," Emma said coolly, putting her hands in the pockets of her coat. "Wanna get some coffee?"

"Sure," Elsa smiled as the elevator doors opened and she let Emma exit first as she lingered for a moment so that she could put on her coat. She and Emma left the building and walked a few blocks away to a Starbucks where she insisted on paying for their coffee and Emma promised her that she'd pay next time.

Elsa wasn't just Emma's neighbor. They were close, after having worked together for more years than either of them could count.

"I'm not ready for that staff meeting we're supposed to be having after work today," Elsa sighed as she accepted her change from the barista and she and Emma walked down to the far end of the counter to wait for their drinks.

"There's a staff meeting today?" Emma asked, incredulous. She had absolutely no recollection of such a thing. "I'm supposed to meet Walsh at his apartment after work so that we can meet up with the caterers! This doesn't work for me at all." Emma let out an exaggerated groan and pulled out her cell, dialing Walsh's number. She held the phone to her ear as she and Elsa waited in the crowded coffee shop, surrounded by other patrons who were waiting to grab their coffee and run off to resume their morning routines.

"Hello?" Walsh answered his phone after only a few rings, and his voice was as even and calm as usual.

"Hi, Walsh. I'm here with Elsa, who just a second ago reminded me that we have a staff meeting after work tonight. I'm not sure I'll be able to meet up with you after all." She felt a pang of guilt sliver in the pit of her stomach. She hated to keep pushing more and more of the responsibilities into Walsh's lap, but he knew how important her job was to her, so he never fought her.

"Emma, sweetheart, don't worry about it!" He reassured her and she breathed out a sigh of relief as one of the baristas called out Elsa's name, letting them know that their drinks were up. "I can meet up with the caterers by myself, it's really not that big a deal. Uh, I think it was only in regards to a minor detail like napkins or placemats or something."

"Does that have to do with catering?" Emma asked, smiling appreciatively at Elsa as she accepted one of the two paper cups she held.

"Maybe?" Walsh guessed and the boyish tone in his voice made Emma laugh.

"Well, I'm glad you know that you can cover this one without me. You're the best, and I hope you know that."

"Oh, go on," he joked, and they both shared a laugh as Emma and Elsa exited the Starbucks and went out to the curb to hail a taxi.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow then?" Emma asked, hating that she wasn't going to see him tonight, but also for some reason feeling somewhat relieved.

"Definitely. Oh! And don't forget: my main man is finally in town! I can't wait for you guys to meet!"

"Oh, right. What is it you call him? The Angry Something-Or-Other?" She bit her lip against a smile when she heard his frustrated groan.

"Emma, he's the Mad Dog, and you know it. You're gonna love him."

She rolled her eyes at Walsh's infatuation with his best friend. Emma had never actually met the guy, as he'd been travelling across the country for the entire year that she and Walsh had been together. He'd only barely managed to get time off to help out with the wedding and be Walsh's best man.

"Whatever you say, hon." She mused, taking a sip from her cup as a taxi stopped in front of them. Elsa turned to Emma with an expectant eyebrow raised and cocked her head in the direction of the cab. "Alright, I have to go, but I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Perfect. Love you."

"I love you, too," she hung up her phone, giving an apologetic look to Elsa, who must have felt somewhat invisible while Emma had been caught up on the phone.

"Sorry about that," Emma mumbled as Elsa climbed into the cab and gave the address of their office to the driver.

"It's fine," Elsa sighed, giving Emma a patient smile. "Wedding comes first, I get it. Even before me. Your maid of honor. Your best friend of seven years. Don't mind me."

Emma snorted out a quick laugh and rolled her eyes. "You're such a drama queen."

Elsa laughed at that and took a sip from her coffee before looking at Emma again. "So how is all of that going?"

"The wedding planning?" Emma asked, even though she knew that that was exactly was her friend was talking about. "It's fine, I guess. I mean, the wedding's only a few weeks away, so there isn't much actual work left. We've got the venue."

"Yes, the ballroom at the plaza," Elsa chimed in as Emma continued to list.

"We have a DJ."

"Check, some dude named Jefferson."

"And we sent out our invitations two weeks ago."

"And you've gotten about a hundred RSVPs so far."

Emma shuddered when she heard that number. She never pictured herself as someone who'd want to have such a huge wedding, but Walsh was a lawyer, and someone in his line of work did a lot of networking, which meant there were a lot of work contacts and other connections that needed to be acknowledged.

"His family is flying here in three weeks, and his best man just got here last night."

"Oh, right," Elsa mused, taking a sip from her cup and tilting it upward so that she could drain it. "The angry guy? You looking forward to meeting him after all this time?"

Emma laughed at Elsa's guess and finished her own coffee. "It's the Mad Dog, and I don't know what you mean by 'all this time.' Walsh and I haven't been together all that long, and the opportunity never really came up for us to meet."

"That makes sense, I guess." Elsa shrugged as the cabbie pulled up to their office building and she reached for her purse.

"No way are you paying for this!" Emma protested and grabbed some wadded bills from her own pocket and handed them to the driver. "You paid for the coffee."

"Fine," Elsa sighed and opened the door to the cab, putting both her feet on the ground outside before rising from her seat, "but I pay cab fare tomorrow. Both ways."

"That's fine by me," Emma conceded, and hopped out of the cab as well, linking her arm with Elsa's as they walked toward the building.

When the pair finally got into the office, they walked over to their shared cubicle and went about starting their work day. Emma shrugged out of her coat and draped it over the back of her chair, deciding to go to the break room to get a cup of coffee.

Sure, she'd had one before coming to work, but she was going to need all the caffeine she could get if she was going to make it through this day.

The break room wasn't anything fancy, just a medium-sized room with plain, white walls, a table that the employees could sit at to eat, and a fridge where they could keep their lunches. There was a microwave on the far counter, and some cabinets above it. Emma walked over to the cabinets and opened one, looking for the mug that she kept at work.

It was nothing special, just a white mug with her initials on it so that she'd recognize it if someone else tried to use it – which had happened more times than she'd like to recount.

Grabbing her mug, she walked over to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup, leaving enough room in the mug for her cream and sugar. After she mixed her coffee she took a tentative sip of it, testing its temperature. Satisfied that she could now continue on with the rest of her day, Emma turned to leave the break room, only to be stopped by one of her coworkers coming in.

"Good morning, Emma!"

Emma plastered a shallow smile onto her face as Mary Margaret Blanchard strode gracefully into the break room. Mary Margaret was a nice enough woman, but Emma wasn't sure if she had the time to talk to her this morning. She tended to ramble. That, and she'd just recently returned from maternity leave, so almost every other sentence started the same way –

"You won't believe what my little Neal did this morning."

Emma rolled her eyes at the all-too familiar sentence and turned to face Mary Margaret, who was pouring her own cup of coffee.

"Try me," Emma responded, hoping that the happy tone to her voice didn't sound too obviously fake.

"Well," Mary Margaret started, taking a seat at the table, "he woke up at five this morning and he stood up in his crib, just, you know, whining for me or my husband to come and get him, but, today, I beat David to it. I decided to let him sleep since his hours at the police station have suddenly picked up and he's been doing a bit of overtime since I had the baby. You know, I say to him, 'David, you're going to run yourself into the ground,' but he just shakes it off. Typical David. It's funny, when we first started dating—"

"Mary Margaret," Emma interrupted, smiling as she began to tap her foot impatiently, "you were about to tell me something about the baby?"

The brunette swallowed the sip she'd just taken from her mug and then smiled. "Oh! That's right! I'm sorry, Emma." She chuckled out a quick laugh and then scratched her head as if it would help her remember what she'd been about to say.

"He woke up at five…" Emma prompted her, trying to help speed things along.

"Right! He woke up at five and I went into his room see what was up. And wouldn't you know it, he'd somehow managed to take his diaper off while he was sleeping! It was the most adorable thing I'd ever seen." Mary Margaret started to laugh to herself, and, although Emma found the story to be the very definition of unrelatable, she found herself smiling, too.

"That's um, really cute, Mary Margaret." She managed to say before walking backward to the door. "I'll see you at the meeting tonight, right?"

"You sure will!" Mary Margaret nodded with a broad smile. "And I want you to tell me all about your wedding later!"

Emma felt that familiar weight return to the pit of her stomach at the mention of her upcoming nuptials but smiled anyway, nodding and offering a quick 'sure thing' on her way out of the door.

This wasn't going to be an easy day by any means, but she knew that if she had any chance of even making it to the meeting later, she'd have to keep a low profile and probably avoid Mary Margaret for the rest of the day.

Emma was glad to be able to say that she had made it through her work day. It was finally six o'clock, which meant that all she had to do was sit through this meeting and then she could go home.

After gathering her coat and purse, she waited for Elsa to do the same and the pair walked over to the conference room, where their boss, Regina Mills, was about to start speaking. They took the only open chairs they could find, which were luckily by the door, and settled in as they waited for Regina to start talking.

"Okay, people," Regina sighed as she turned to face the small crowd of people gathered in the room before her. "I'm having some issues with scheduling and I just wanted to make sure that nobody is opposed to picking up an extra few hours next month when Emma goes on her honeymoon."

Emma's face turned a bright shade of pink as every head in the conference room turned to her with soft, smiling faces and happy stares. She smiled meekly and nodded, wanting nothing more than a change of subject.

"Oh, that's right!" Mary Margaret nearly sang. "You still haven't told me all that much about your groom-to-be! What's his name again?"

Emma clenched her jaw, but tried her best to keep her tone lighthearted. "It's Walsh."

"Oh, he's one of those guys," joked Sidney Glass, Regina's assistant. "He's got a last name as a first name."

Emma rolled her eyes, deciding not to comment or rebut. "Yep. He sure does."

"So, how did you meet?" Mary Margaret leaned forward in her chair across the room, resting an elbow on a knee and perching her head on a closed fist.

"Uh," Emma felt her stomach twisting with all of the attention she was being given, but she pressed on, answering the question as best she could. "Well, he's a lawyer. And, about a year and a half ago, my foster brother got into a little trouble, so we used Walsh to represent him."

"Oh, how sweet!" Mary Margaret crooned, clapping one hand to her heart. "Now, how long have you been together if you only met a year and a half ago?"

This question. Emma always hated answering this question. Because with it came the judgmental looks and the sympathetic stares as if condolences were in order.

"We started dating a year ago, and he proposed to me at about eight months." She answered flatly, simply stating facts.

"Now, that's what I call fast." Sidney bellowed out a quick laugh and shook his head.

"Wow, only eight months? And you love him enough to marry him? That's wonderful Emma. What are his parents like?"

Fuck.

"I don't know. I haven't met them yet. Or any of his family, really."

"Hm," Mary Margaret made a pensive face at that and shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I'm sure they'll just love you."

Emma gave a tight-lipped smile at the compliment and sighed heavily when Regina finally called the attention of the room back to her.

Elsa leaned in to Emma, dropping her voice down to a whisper. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Emma lied, hoping with all of her might for this meeting to end so that she could go home and escape into her bed.

Once the meeting was over, Emma and Elsa grabbed their things and left the conference room together.

"Oh, it's Thursday, isn't it?" Elsa mumbled to herself mostly as she pulled out her phone to check the date.

"Yeah, it is, why?" Emma asked, putting on her coat and flipping her hair out of the back of it.

"I'm supposed to go to Anna's for dinner." She answered as she dialed her sister's number and took a few steps away from Emma so that she could speak privately.

Anna was only a few years younger than Elsa, but Elsa was extremely protective. Emma had gotten to know Anna well over the time that she'd been friends with Elsa, and Anna was almost the exact opposite of her sister. Where Elsa was calm and reserved, Anna was bubbly and outgoing. She'd moved to the city with her boyfriend Kristoff a few years ago to be closer to Elsa, and, at first, Elsa was worried that Anna wouldn't be able to make it on her own in New York, but it didn't take long for Anna to prove her wrong.

"Okay, Anna, I love you." Elsa walked back into earshot and Emma turned to face her. "Okay, bye."

"So, what's the verdict?"

"We're still on, just a little behind schedule because of this meeting." Elsa brushed some stray hairs out of her face as they stood on the sidewalk outside of their office. "Can you believe she assembled us all just to let everybody know that it's your fault that they'll be taking extra hours next month? Unbelievable."

"I know," Emma sighed, tucking her bangs behind her hear, "and really annoying."

Elsa chuckled at that as a cab stopped in front of them. "You wanna take this one?"

Emma shook her head and shrugged. "I have nowhere to be. You can have it."

Elsa smiled warmly at her friend and pulled her into a tight hug. "Alright. I'll talk to you tomorrow, then. Call me if you need anything, okay?"

Emma hugged Elsa back, wrapping her arms around the woman's lithe waist and resting her cheek on her shoulder. "I'll think about it."

They both shared a short laugh at that and then Elsa pulled away, hustling over to the cab, clearly eager to get out of the cold. "Love you!" She called over her shoulder, waving at Emma as she got into the car.

"Love you, too," Emma called back, waving goodbye as the taxi pulled away.

She stood by herself on the sidewalk for a few moments before she was approached from behind.

"Hello, Emma," she recognized that voice and it made her roll her eyes immediately.

"Hi, Archie."

Archie was the office mediator, so (in Emma's opinion, at least) he was constantly looking to solve problems that did not exist.

"How are you? Excited about your wedding?"

His tone was almost sympathetic and it made Emma want to say some very angry things to him.

"I sure am," she replied without a trace of enthusiasm, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat.

"I heard that you two have only been together for a year or so." He was standing beside her now, hands in his own pockets as he swayed back and forth.

"That's right." She affirmed as she wondered where he was going with this.

"Do you really think that's long enough to know someone?"

And there it was.

"Why wouldn't it be?" She cursed herself for engaging, but she knew that if she didn't let him have a piece of her mind, she'd be bothered about it for longer than it was worth.

"Emma, you haven't even met his family yet. You can't possibly know him well enough to commit to spending your life with him.

Emma sighed and turned to face Archie head-on. "News flash, Archie: I'm not marrying his family, I'm marrying him! Why should I care what his family is like? He'll never meet my parents, and he seems more than okay with that!"

Archie sighed and adjusted his glasses. "Look, Emma, I don't mean to upset you, but there's a lot of things that need to be considered before you take as big a step as marriage."

"Archie, are you married?" She knew it was a low blow, but she was eager to get this conversation over with.

"Me?" He balked, flustered by her question, but then shook his head. "I, well, no. I'm not."

"So what exactly makes you think that you're an expert on the institution? I'm not going to stand here and be berated by you, while you, most likely, have no idea what you're talking about. We're done here." With that, Emma turned on her heels and walked away from Archie. There was no way she'd be able to relax after such an unpleasant interaction, so she figured she'd walk over to a nearby hotel and grab a drink in the bar.

Her office was only a few blocks away from the Four Seasons, and she had to admit that this wouldn't be the first stop she'd made there in recent weeks. With her wedding to Walsh on the horizon, she'd found herself becoming more and more stressed about it. In her defense though, this was the first stop she'd made there this week.

She walked through the revolving doors at the entrance and made a beeline for the lounge, where she approached the bar and draped her coat over the back of a chair.

There weren't many other people around her, the closest being a dark-haired man who kept his eyes trained on his drink. Didn't seem like he posed much of a threat, so she didn't mind having to sit closest to him.

"Evening, Miss Swan," the bartender greeted her warmly and she smiled at him as she climbed onto her stool. "You here for your usual?"

She smiled and nodded eagerly, flipping her hair onto one shoulder. The bartender was gone, but returned in only a few moments with a double shot of whiskey, neat. "Thanks, Vinny," she smiled at him appreciatively and he have a curt nod before walking off to attend to some other customers.

She lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip of it, delighting in the slight burn of the alcohol as she swallowed.

"Swan, eh?"

Emma cocked an eyebrow and turned her head toward the dark-haired man who was now looking at her with the bluest eyes she'd ever seen.

"I sure hope that's a last name, but, if not, I'm sure you're used to it." He chuckled at that and took a sip from his own glass, setting it back down on the bar gently. "What's your first name?"

Emma narrowed her eyes at him and made a short sound of disgust. "Why would I tell you that?"

He chuckled to himself and shook his head. "Alright, if that's the way you want it." He extended a hand to her and she shook it, against her better judgment. "I suppose you can call me Jones, then. Since we appear to be on a last name basis."

"Right. Jones. Got it." She took a sip from her glass, replacing it on the bar and then turning her head to look at him. "Nice to meet you."

He wasn't at all bad to look at. Rugged jaw line, visible stubble and a slight scar under his right eye. Actually, he was gorgeous. The accent didn't hurt, either. He wore a blue, plaid button-down shirt, which was hanging open; his white, V-neck tee shirt was clearly visible underneath. The sleeves of the plaid shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and Emma found herself looking over every part of his ensemble, from his shirts, to his dark wash jeans, all the way down to the boots he wore on his feet.

"So, Swan," he drawled as he let go of his glass and turned on his chair so that he could face her. "What brings you here alone?"

She took a moment to think about her answer. "What makes you think I shouldn't be?"

He nodded to her left hand, and she remembered (how did she forget?) that she was engaged.

She looked down at her ring and instinctively brushed over it with her thumb. "Oh, that. Ha, that's actually the reason why I'm here."

"Hmmm," he mused as he took a sip of his drink again, his free hand drumming lightly on the surface of the bar with his fingers. "Stressful wedding?"

"Stressful everything," she answered with a short, stunted chuckle.

"Ah, what's the matter love? Is your fiancé not Prince Charming?"

Emma couldn't help but notice the hint of sarcasm in Jones's voice, but she pushed it out of her mind. She really didn't owe him any explanations, and yet she found herself drawn to him, willing to tell him anything he asked.

"He's perfect, actually. I love him, I just—" She stopped herself, she was rambling into some really personal stuff, and she didn't want to pour her heart out to a total stranger. "Never mind."

His brows furrowed and he looked at her with sympathetic eyes. She turned back to him, and this time, the sympathy that she saw reflected back at her didn't make her want to punch someone in the face. It looked less mocking and more sincere; honest and open.

"Don't do that to yourself, love," he told her, reaching out to pat her lightly on the shoulder. "If you need to talk, go ahead. I don't live around here – I'm actually only in town for a month or so. I have nothing better to do than to help a beautiful woman out with her problems. Trust me, sometimes it's easier to vent to a stranger."

Emma shook her head, turning back to her nearly-empty tumbler of whiskey. "I don't want to bother you."

"Swan," his hand squeezed her shoulder softly and he nodded at her encouragingly, "go ahead."

She sighed before nodding back at him. "Well, my fiancé, he's amazing. He loves me and he's so supportive – I was actually supposed to be with him tonight so that we could iron out some details for our wedding, but I had to bail on him. He was so nice about it." She breathed out a short laugh and shook her head. "He's like that."

"So what the problem?" Jones asked, taking another sip from his drink.

"There isn't one. I just – I know that I want to be with him, marry him. But we haven't been together for all that long, and sometimes I can't help but feel like everyone is right. This is too soon."

"Then why not push back the wedding?"

"I don't know," she sighed, tucking her bangs behind her ear. "I grew up in the foster system. I never really had a family. Never felt like I belonged anywhere."

On a whim, she looked up at Jones's face and the understanding that she saw reflecting back at her made her heart skip a beat.

"Then I became an adult. And I got my own place. I got a good job and I saved every single penny I made until I could move into a decent apartment and get an even better job. I was happy on my own. I was so sure that I'd never need another person again. Then fast forward a few years, and I met him."

"I'm still not hearing a problem, lass."

"I met him, and he made me feel so loved, so needed. Something about him attracted me from the start. Maybe it was the security, the friendship, I don't know. But sometimes I wonder if that may be the reason why I'm rushing to get married. Because I'm afraid that if I don't hold on to him he'll leave."

"Ah, there it is," he sighed as he lifted his tumbler and drank the remainder of its contents, signaling to the bartender that he'd like another. He turned to Emma and looked down at her glass. "What are you drinking?"

"No, it's fine, you don't have to—"

The bartender reappeared and Jones motioned to both of their glasses. "I'll have another rum, and she'll take another of whatever it was that she had. Thanks, mate."

He settled back down in his seat and looked at Emma earnestly. "Listen to me, Swan. I don't know you, and I don't know your fiancé, but if you have any doubts at all, you should hold off on attaching yourself to this bloke for life."

"Thanks," She nodded at his words as that same sense of discomfort slivered in the pit of her stomach. She was ready to change the subject. "So, tell me about yourself. What is your love life like?"

He let out a bellowing laugh at that, even tossing his head back for good measure. "There isn't one to speak of. I'm not really one for more than a one-night stand. I hate to say this aloud, but I think I'm too much to handle. More than one dose could prove fatal for an unsuspecting lass."

Emma grinned at that, laughing as she clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Now there's a smile," he said, his voice dropping nearly an octave as he leaned in and pulled her hand away from her face. "Don't cover it up, Swan. The world deserves to see that smile."

He let his hand linger on hers and she couldn't ignore the sparks that ignited over her skin where he touched her. They stared into each other's eyes for an intense moment before they were interrupted by the bartender, who set their drinks down in front of them.

Emma broke eye contact with him and focused on her new glass of whiskey, hoping that her cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

Though they weren't talking, she could feel his eyes on the side of her face, watching and observing her silently.

She brought her glass to her lips and knocked back the entire thing, feeling oddly proud of herself that she didn't choke. She swallowed and gave a heavy sigh as she turned to Jones.

"Buy me another?"

He smiled at her sudden change in mood and nodded, flagging the barman down once again.

Vinny poured Emma another drink and she nodded to him in thanks as she picked it up and took a sip from it. "So, Jones," she giggled as she emphasized his last time, running her finger around the rim of her glass. "You say you're only into one-night stands. What's the real reason behind that?"

He raised his eyebrows at her, as if he wasn't expecting such a serious question to be thrown his way. "Well, Swan," he mocked her, "there are fewer strings, which means fewer emotions, which means less mess. I'm a free spirit of sorts, and I don't much like to be tied down."

He took a sip of his rum and then looked back to Emma with a devilish smirk on his face. "At least not in the metaphorical sense."

Emma snorted out a quick laugh at that and shook her head. "Watch it, buddy. I am engaged to be married."

He nodded at that, licking his bottom lip as his eyes took her in. "Don't think I've forgotten." He slid closer to her on his chair so that his knee was touching hers. "You know, Swan," he started, letting one of his hands drop to her knee, "I don't mind if you don't mind."

Emma's breath caught in her throat when she looked down and saw his hand on her, his fingers brushing lightly back and forth over the smooth material of her skirt. "I think that—"

"I think you think too much." He nearly whispered as he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers.

Emma gasped in surprise, but she didn't fight him. He grew braver, moving his hand from her knee to the side of her face, pulling her closer to him. She felt as though she were in a trance, unable to pull away from him even though she knew that anyone could just look over and see them.

After a moment, they were interrupted again as Vinny came over to them, arms folded across his chest. "You know this is a hotel, right?"

Jones laughed at that and pulled away as Emma did the same, her cheeks glowing red. She flashed Jones a cheeky smile and leaned in again, placing a soft, teasing kiss on his lips. "What do you say?"

His eyes were glued to her lips as she talked, and when she finished speaking he kissed her again before pulling back. "What do I say to what?"

She laughed at that and picked up her glass, drinking the rest of her whiskey and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before hopping off of her stool and standing in front of Jones. She leaned in again, but, this time, instead of kissing him, she brushed her nose against his as she spoke. "What do you say we move this party upstairs?"

She heard him groan in the back of his throat as he slapped some bills down on the bar and got up to lead her to the elevators. She grabbed her things and followed behind him, not daring to think about anything other than the way he was about to make her feel. Nothing else mattered. Not right now.

He pressed the up button and Emma kept her eyes trained on the closed elevator in front of her, not wanting to risk a look at him. She didn't want to back out.

An elevator opened up to their left, and he cocked his head in its direction. Emma followed behind him and they stepped into it. Since they were going up from the ground floor, there was nobody inside it, but after they entered it, a few other guests walked in behind them.

Jones pressed the number five and then leaned up against the wall at the back of the elevator and she stood next to him, her breath catching in her throat when his hand reached for hers, lacing their fingers together.

She gripped his hand tightly, holding onto him as the elevator started to move. She watched the numbers above the door light up, as did he, and she held her breath every time it stopped and the doors opened on lower floors. When it got to the number five, the doors creaked open, and he lead her out of the elevator and down the hall to his room.

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his key card and unlocked the room door, holding it open so that Emma could enter first.

She walked into the room and kicked off her heels, but she had very little time to take in her surroundings before Jones came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her neck.

"Gods, Swan," he growled as he used one hand to move her hair out of his way so that he could latch his mouth onto her neck, "you have no idea how badly I want you."

"Don't tell me," she sighed and reached a hand back so that it was resting on his thigh, "show me."

He groaned at that and spun her in his arms so that he could claim her lips with his own once more. Emma felt all of her worries leave her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he walked her further into the room. Her backside bumped into a counter in the kitchen, and, without thinking, she scooted up onto it, letting Jones stand between her open legs.

She cupped his face in her hands, reveling in the way his stubble scratched against her palms, driving her mad with need. His hands found their way to the hem of her shirt and he pulled it upward. She lifted her arms to help him get it off of her and in moments, she was sitting before him, her lace-clad breasts heaving under his rapt gaze.

Emma reached her hands out to his shoulders and pushed his plaid shirt off. He shrugged out of it as he dropped his head down to her neck, letting his teeth scrape over her collarbone as she threw her head back and ran her fingers through his hair.

He kissed over her neck, laving his tongue over her pulse point, which had her writhing beneath him as she reached for the hem of his tee shirt and pulled it up over his head.

She bit her lip against a moan when she saw his bare chest, which was solid and covered in hair. She ran her fingers through it and he moaned before leaning in to kiss her again. His hands fell to her hips and he pulled her off of the counter and then turned her around so that her back was pressed against his chest.

She moved her hair over one shoulder and his lips immediately found her skin again, kissing and nipping at all he could reach. One of her hands went to the back of his head as his hands found the zipper on the back of her skirt. He deftly opened her skirt and then pushed it down to the floor.

Emma stepped out of it and turned around to face him again. When she leaned in to kiss him he indulged her, tracing his hands over her hips before he bent at the knees and picked her up.

She giggled as she wrapped her legs around his waist, letting him kiss and likely mark her neck as he walked her over to the queen-sized bed in the hotel room. She laughed when he tossed her onto the bed and he smiled down at her as he crawled up the bed to where she lay, her hair fanned out above her head as she laid back against the pillows.

When he reached her he kissed her softly on the lips and she reciprocated, opening her legs so that he could settle between them. He did so, running his hand over her thigh as he ground the bulge in his boxer briefs over her aching center.

"Fuck," she sighed, biting her lower lip as he moved over her, driving her insane with yearning.

He chuckled at her desperate tone and moved one of his hands behind her so that he could unhook her bra. It came undone with minimal effort and he licked his lips as he pulled it away from her, his pupils dilating as he looked over her bare chest.

Without a word, he kissed her lips tenderly, only lingering for a moment before he kissed his way down to her neck, letting his tongue dip out against the skin there as he made a path down to her breast, kissing the tops of them both, and making her eyes roll back in her head as he latched onto one nipple, teasing the other between his thumb and forefinger.

"Oh, Jones," she panted, rolling her hips into his as he teased her. "Please."

Lifting his head, he look at her, taking in the blush that covered her face, and neck, and chest. He smirked up at her and offered her a wink before moving down so that he could kneel between her legs and press light kisses to the skin of her stomach, chuckling to himself when she started bucking her hips upward.

"Patience, Swan," he muttered under his breath, barely registering her huff of impatience as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and slid them down her legs, holding his breath as her bare, glistening sex was exposed to his ravenous gaze.

He took a moment to simply observe her, panting and writhing on his bed and he'd barely even touched her yet. He felt his cock twitch as he lowered his mouth to her core, making contact with her heated flesh and causing her to cry out.

"Oh yes," she sighed, raking her fingers through his hair as his tongue rolled over her most sensitive parts, setting her alight with desire as he worked her up. She rolled her hips downward into his face when he found her clit and sucked it into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it as she shot up and over the edge.

He brought her down from her peak gently, licking and sucking to help her ride out the waves of her orgasm.

Emma barely registered him leaving the bed, and it wasn't until she heard him rifling through his luggage that she looked up to see him kneeling by one of his suitcases.

"Wh-what are you doing?" She asked him, still shaking from her high.

He didn't answer her, only found what he'd been looking for and held it up to her like a trophy as he walked back over to the bed.

A condom.

"Safety first," he mockingly admonished her as he pushed down his boxers and rejoined her on the bed.

He held himself over her, an arm on either side of her body and kissed her, making her moan when she tasted herself on his tongue. While he was distracted with kissing her, Emma slipped her hand between then and reached for his cock, stroking it slowly to match the pace of their languid kissing.

When he groaned in the back of his throat she felt the vibrations of the sound against her lips and she smiled into their kiss when Jones started bucking his hips into her hand.

"I think someone's a little eager," she joked between kisses, giving him a particularly firm squeeze.

"Trust me, love," he breathed against her neck, "there's nothing little about me."

Before she had time to offer a retort, he was kneeling between her legs again, this time so that he could open the condom and roll it onto his throbbing length.

Once he was ready, he leaned back over her, bracing his weight on one arm so that he could use his other hand to guide himself to her entrance.

"You ready?" He asked, brushing the head of his cock over her clit.

Emma couldn't answer verbally – she simply nodded her head and braced herself when she felt the head of his cock pressing into her.

He was bigger than Walsh, that was for sure, but she was certain that she could handle all that he had to give her.

(And probably more.)

He only sank about halfway into her, pausing to study her face and make sure she was alright before he continued on, this time stopping when he was hilted inside of her tight heat.

"Bloody hell, Swan," he cursed, burying his face in her neck, "you feel so good."

She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he reached for her thigh again, angling it up and over his hip so that he could press into her just a little deeper.

"Fuck," Emma whined when he started moving, gently thrusting in and out of her as his hand held her thigh in place. She ground her hips into his every time he trust home, and Jones buried his face in her neck, biting down on her skin to keep himself from moaning.

She angled her hips upward, which had him brushing against that spot inside of her with every thrust.

"I'm so close," she breathed out, her hand closing around a fistful of his hair as he moved his hand from her thigh to the place where they were one, drawing swift and heavy-handed circled into her flesh as she began to flutter around him.

"Yes, Swan, that's it," he praised her, running his nose over her jaw. "Let me feel you."

"Oh, fuck," Emma swore through clenched teeth as he sent her over the edge for the second time. She kept moving with him, trying to prolong her pleasure for as long as she could.

Jones kissed her below her ear, and if she hadn't just experienced a mind-blowing orgasm only seconds before, that may have sent her over the edge in and of itself.

"Still with me?" He asked her, a cocky smirk on his face.

Emma suddenly found her second wind and mustered enough power to roll her eyes at him and push him off of her so that she could straddle him and sink down onto his cock. She bit her lip as he filled her again and he let out a loud groan, clenching his jaw as she swiveled her hips over him.

"You alright there?" She teased him as she braced her hands on his thighs and began to move, gliding over his length as his hands came down to her hips, gripping her hard enough to bruise as he guided her movements.

He braced his feet on the bed and began to thrust upward into her, making her gasp as she all but fell forward, her hands falling on either side of his head as she let him fuck her from where he lay beneath her.

She did her best to continue her movements, but she proved no match for him as he altered their position again, this time sitting up so that she was cradled in his lap as she continued to ride him hard. He wrapped his arms around her waist as his mouth found her breast, latching onto her nipple and scraping his teeth over it.

Emma gasped loudly as she raked her fingers through his hair. She gripped it tightly in her fingers and pulled his head back so that she could crush her lips to his as she neared another orgasm.

She broke the kiss, panting as she pressed her lips to his neck and whined, "I'm gonna come again."

She felt the vibrations of his moan reverberate against her lips as he acknowledged her statement, snaking his hand between them to help her out again. When she came this time, her nails scratched over the backs of his shoulders and he groaned at the slight pain, although he didn't mind it.

Her walls clamped down on him and triggered his own release, causing him to bite down on the flesh of her chest as he spilled himself into the condom with a stunted yell.

For the next few moments they sat totally still, panting and holding each other as they tried to catch their breath.

"That was…" he trailed off, unable to find the right words to describe the bliss he'd just experienced.

"I know," she tried to state her agreement, but her voice was shaky and strained.

When Jones finally relaxed and fell back onto the bed, she fell with him, resting her head against his chest.

It wasn't until he wrapped his arms around her that she realized what she was doing and sat up, rolling off of him. Jones walked off to the bathroom and disposed of the condom before coming back to the bed and lying down again.

"Uh, I should go," she muttered to him as she swung her sore legs over the edge of the bed and made to leave. She was about to stand from the bed when she felt his hand on hers.

"You don't have to run off, you know. I wouldn't mind if you wanted to stay."

Emma felt a chill roll down her spine at his invitation, but she shook her head. "Can't. I have work in the morning." That excuse sounded lame even in her own ears, but she couldn't stay with him. Even though she wanted to.

"Come on, Swan. What harm would it do?"

For the life of her she couldn't think of another excuse and she was tired of fighting, so she let him tug her back to the middle of the bed and tuck her body against his under the covers.

She rested her head against his chest as he lay on his back, letting out a yawn so loud that it made her smile, her cheek rubbing against his chest hair.

"I won't take it personally when I wake up to find you gone." His arm wrapped around her and he rested his hand on her hip, his fingers rubbing light, lazy patterns into the soft flesh. "But, for what it's worth, I had one hell of a time with you tonight."

She sighed and draped her arm over his torso before she replied, "I did, too."

Emma's eyes opened slowly as she rolled over in Jones's hotel room bed, stretching sluggishly as she sat up on the edge. She still couldn't believe that she'd spent the night with him, but she couldn't at all say that she regretted it – especially not after she woke him with a blowjob around two in the morning and they had another go.

With a satisfied smile on her lips, she gingerly eased herself off the bed and gathered her clothes, making sure to keep quiet so that she wouldn't wake Jones as she tiptoed across the room. Once she'd put on her panties, bra, and skirt, she padded over to the bathroom and closed the door quietly, deciding to check on the state of her hair.

She cringed at the sight of it, wild and untamed – damn, she needed a hairbrush. She decided that her fingers were better than nothing and reigned in her tresses as best she could before grabbing a bar of soap to wash her face. Once she finished, she gave herself one final look in the mirror before going to put on her shirt and leave.

After she was finally ready, she spared one final look at Jones – he was asleep on his back and the sheet had redden down to his pelvis, exposing his glorious chest and abs to her view. She gave a final sigh before she opened the door and left the room, ready to go on with the rest of her life.

Emma had just finished showering when her cell phone started to ring out in her bedroom. She wrapped a towel around herself and scurried out to answer it. Picking it up, she saw that Walsh was calling her.

"Hello?" She answered as she sat down on her bed, tilting her head to one side to keep her wet hair off of her phone.

"Good morning, beautiful," Walsh replied to her and she smiled upon hearing his voice, something that hadn't happened for a long time. "How are you?"

"I'm good."

"Oh, you're good today? I was expecting to hear 'fine' or 'okay.'"

Emma chuckled at his teasing and rolled her eyes. "You should be happy that your fiancée is in a good mood for once."

He laughed with her for a few moments before answering, "Trust me, sweetheart, I am. Anyway, I'm calling to tell you that I've made reservations for you, me, and the Mad Dog for dinner tonight. I'll text you the address later."

"Okay," Emma smiled when she remember that she was finally going to meet Walsh's best friend. She was excited to maybe find out something more about her fiancé and get to know him through someone else's stories and memories. "I'll see you tonight, then."

"You sure will. I love you."

"I love you too," she replied and hung up the phone so that she could do her hair and get dressed for work.

Her workday had been trying and as mundane as usual, but she was happy when five o'clock rolled around and she was finally free to go home. She and Elsa shared a cab, and, after saying a hasty goodbye to her friend, Emma rushed to get ready to go to dinner with Walsh.

After she'd fashioned her hair into a sleek, high ponytail and put on one of her favorite black dresses, Emma grabbed her coat and checked the time on her watch, which read 6:49. She left her apartment and, after hailing a cab with minimal effort (which was surprising for a Friday evening), she gave the address Walsh had given her to the cabbie, who got her to her destination around 7:15.

She paid the cab driver and stepped out onto the curb, pulling her phone out of her purse and quickly dialing Walsh's number. He answered after a few moments and greeted her cheerily.

"Hey, I'm outside, are you guys here yet?"

"Yeah," he answered her, and a minute later he was at the entrance, waving her over.

Emma hung up her phone and walked over to him, giving him a hug and a kiss in greeting.

"Hey, how was work today?" He asked her, taking her coat and draping it over his arm.

"It was alright," she answered him, looking around the room to see if she could spot his best man. "So, where is he?" She asked, an eager smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"He's at the table," Walsh started, but stopped for a moment, wringing his hands. "I feel like I should warn you about him, though: he's a total jackass. He makes inappropriate jokes and he spouts innuendo like it's nobody's business."

Emma nodded as she listened to Walsh speak, trying to keep her mind from wandering to a certain Brit she'd met the night before who fit that description to the letter. "I'm a big girl, Walsh. I can handle myself." She leaned in and gave him a reassuring kiss on the cheek before taking his hand and letting him lead her into the dining room.

She saw only one table that had a single person seated at it, and assumed that that was where they were going to be sitting. The man seated at the table appeared to be looking at his phone, as his head was bowed toward his lap.

"Is that him?" She asked, leaning toward Walsh.

"It sure is," he confirmed, letting go of her hand to put his arm around her waist.

"Hey, man," Walsh called to his friend and the man lifted his head, making Emma's heart drop into her stomach.

She recognized him immediately: the same blue eyes, the same rugged stubble and pouty lips. It was him.

"Emma Swan, I would like you to meet my best man," Walsh held her tightly to his side as he kissed her on the temple and then gestured with his hand toward the man sitting at the table. "This is Killian Jones."