Author's note: Written as a birthday present for a friend on Tumblr, came out a bit longer than expected. Enjoy! Please review if you can.

"Emma, are you sure I can't get you some water?" It was nearly midnight and Granny's diner was empty save for Ruby and Miss Swan. The blonde was slumped over in one of the booths, glasses strewn about the table that once held various mixed drinks surrounding a half eaten birthday cake. Emma slurred a response that Ruby assumed was a 'no' before she laid her head down next to the base of the cake and closed her eyes.

Red shook her head and smiled, "Alright Em, but don't blame me for your headache in the morning!" The waitress clucked her tongue as she disappeared into the back of the diner, no doubt getting started on the numerous amount of dishes left over from the party they'd had earlier.

Storybrooke's sheriff groaned and turned her head to rest it on the opposite cheek, failing to find a comfortable position in her drunken exhaustion. It was her own fault for challenging the dwarves to a drinking match; now she was too plastered to even stumble back to her shared apartment. Thank God she had Mary Margaret and David to take Henry home before she had passed her liquor limit. The neon clock on the back wall ticked away her sleepless stupor, each second chiding her for declining that much needed glass of water.

The bell hanging over the front door jingled, signaling a new guest to the diner that now was only occupied by Emma. She was too befuddled to care who the newcomer was; they were interrupting her sobering quiet time.

"Party's over," she mumbled to whoever had entered, unable to find the energy to even pick her head up.

"Swan, you disappoint me," came an all too familiar drawl, "I sincerely believed a woman of your caliber could hold her liquor. I have finally found something I can best you at after all."

Without having to look up she knew he was smirking. Goddamn pirate. The blonde slowly raised her head from its resting place, gold tendrils falling into her vision as she met his smug expression. Emma regarded Killian with a frown that lacked sincerity; the liquor was taking an edge off her ability to be angry with him.

"The diner's," she attempted to blow the hair away from her eyes, continuously failing until she gave up, "dinner is closed. Diner. The diner, is closed."

He ignored her and began his walk towards her table, gliding into the empty bench across from her with ease. Emma watched him as if she had never seen him before, mostly because anytime she tried to focus her stare it made everything fuzzy. The blonde clumsily rubbed her eyes and focused on him again, attention caught on his outfit.

"Leather, where is it?" She looked genuinely confused. Killian shifted in his seat and a laugh escaped him, enjoying her in this state.

"You really have had too much, love," he rearranged the empty glasses on the table so that he had somewhere to rest his good hand, "you made me change my clothes this morning. Said I was scaring the townsfolk." The pirate shook his head and looked down at his seemingly normal attire, "I can tell you these clothes would not last long in Neverland."

It was coming back to her now, albeit blurry, playback of an annoyed David helping her find clothes that wouldn't make Kiilian look like he'd escaped from some erotic dinner show. Emma examined what she could see of him waist up; unbuttoned, charcoal peacoat, burgundy pullover, with the collar of an ebony button down peeking out from the slight v-neck. The blonde cocked her head to the side, letting out a deep sigh.

"Liked the leather better." She stated bluntly, a frown creeping back to her lips. Her statement elicited another laugh from the brunette and he leaned forward to grin at her.

"I'll have to remember that when I get another moment alone with you, darling, " the pirate chuckled and leaned back in his seat.

"Ugh, you're so," Emma racked her brain for the word she was having a hard time remembering, "so...so..."

"Attractive? Irresistible? Blessed with horrible good looks?"

"Pompous!" She slammed her hand on the table as she exclaimed it, pleased to have finally find the proper term for the pirate at her table. Emma found herself grinning, folding her hands on the table and leaning towards him. "You're pompous."

"And you're drunk," he pursed his lips, gaze moving to the half eaten cake and the nearly melted candles that still sat on it.

"What did you wish for then?"

"I didn't," Emma scoffed, her eyebrows narrowing, "I'm...too old for those sorts of things."

Before she could protest he picked up the abandoned book of matches that sat next to the cake, striking it against the rough leather of his holstered hook. The blonde watched as each candle came back to life, flickering in fear of being blown out again.

"No one is too old for wishing, Emma," he said softly.

His sudden use of her name was like a much needed slap to the face. Emma shook her head, her expression suddenly guarded.
"If you don't make a wish, then I will," her threatened her.

"Not your birthday," she slurred in reply.

Killian gestured to the clock on the back wall of the diner, "And it's no longer your birthday either, love."

Emma watched him, unable to determine what his end goal of the situation was, and inwardly cursing herself for being too drunk to do much about it. The pirate leaned towards the cake, the flames dancing nervously until they vanished, leaving behind a upward trail of smoke. His gaze never left hers through the entire action, making it that much more nervewracking. The blonde swallowed hard, her heartbeat rising abruptly and her cheeks warm. She couldn't tell if they were still pink from the alcohol or if their new color was because of him.

"What," the sheriff swallowed again before continuing, "what did you wish for?"

"Oh, you know that age old rule," he was smirking again, leaning across the table until he was inches from her face, "if I tell you, it won't come true."

Emma felt as if she couldn't breath. He was so close, so close that his scent enveloped her. Despite having been in Storybrooke, he still smelled of ocean and charred sandalwood. She was tempted to fall into him, to nuzzle her face against the clothes she wished were made of leather and lose herself. That was the liquor talking, surely, otherwise she wouldn't be in this situation...right?

"Killian," Emma's voice was hoarse, searching his face for an answer to all the questions she wanted to ask.

A groan rumbled in his throat, unable to deny the effect of Emma using his name instead of his villainous label. His fingers slid over the side of her face, noting how warm her cheek was and imagining the blush there since the dim lighting of the diner kept it hidden from his gaze. The blonde felt as if her heart would burst from her chest at any moment. She could feel his breath against her lips, frozen in her position and waiting for what she thought would never happen.

Killian captured her lips as if he were attempting to wake her from a deep slumber, tender at first, gauging her response. Emma sighed into his mouth, her eyes fluttering shut as she relished the feel of his hand cradling her face. He felt her begin to kiss him back, her teeth grazing his lower lip and tugging ever so slightly. The blonde's mouth tasted of whiskey and something sweeter, but the pirate couldn't get enough of it, his tongue tracing her lip until her mouth opened and let him in. Another groaned escaped him and he felt her mewl in reply.

As he pulled back from her mouth, he scattered kisses across her face until taking one more from her lips. She opened her mouth to say something but he shushed her.

"Happy Birthday, Emma Swan," he whispered against her lips, tempted to kiss her again. "I told you it would come true."

Killian broke away from her, sliding out of the booth and sauntering towards the door, leaving Emma flustered in her seat. He paused at the exit, turning to smirk back at her.

"I'll remember the leather for next time."

And with another jingle of the doorbell he was gone. Emma stared at the door for what seemed like an eternity, unsure if the interaction between herself and the pirate had just happened or if she'd finally passed out and this was all some strange dream.

"Oh, I thought you'd left, I could've sworn I heard the door open." Ruby emerged from the kitchen, folding her apron in her hands.

Emma slowly turned to look at her, seeming as confused as ever. The waitress regarded her with a perplexed expression, setting the apron on the counter.

"Uh, earth to Emma?" She waved her hands in front of the blonde's face until sighing defeatedly. "Snow is going to kill me if I leave you here like this. Come on, you can crash at Granny's."

While Red helped Emma into one of the guest beds, her mind replayed the events of the last few hours, lingering on her after hours interaction with Killian. As sleep claimed her mind, she willed herself to remember every moment of it. She would have a few choice words for the pirate in the morning. After a very large cup of coffee and a couple aspirin, of course.