So I've finally managed to catch up on OUAT, thus allowing me to return to the fanfiction world without fear of spoilers. For any of you who might still be following along, I'm sooooo sorry that life keeps pulling me away from writing. It has been good to get back at it today. Hope you enjoy. Also this one is dedicated to kagome7304. Hope you stuck it out. Sorry I made you wait so long.

She isn't quite sure how she wound up here, across town standing at his door banging her fists against it and demanding he answer. But after about ten minutes of it, she is definitely sure that he isn't going to answer; which forces her to realize how horribly desperate she must look and sound to everyone who lives on this floor of the apartment complex. She sinks to the floor clutching her knees to her chest and gives into the emotions she has been pushing away for weeks – loss, resentment, anger, and now jealousy and regret. She knows she is sloppy drunk when the crocodile tears start to slide down her cheeks, and more so when she realizes she is actually sobbing aloud.

Because she has the worst luck in the whole world, that's when her own personal Adonis, Killian Jones, rounds the corner. He freezes at the top of the stairs when he sees her, fairly certain that he doesn't want to be any closer again tonight. It just hurts to bloody much to have her push him away. Of course, that's when the sound of her sobbing reaches his ears. He knows then that he is lost. She has a power over him that she is utterly unaware of.

He strides down the hallway faking an air of confidence that he doesn't truly possess tonight. She hears the footfalls but fears that it is some concerned neighbor or even an angry security guard, so she keeps her eyes downcast. He pauses near her surprised that she hasn't looked up at him yet. No wounded animal would ever let you this close. He silently sinks down against the wall beside her, afraid of words.

"Jones?" she asks voice full of disbelief and maybe a tiny amount of fear.

"Aye," he replies.

Everything is silent and still for a moment. But then the spell breaks and Emma looks up. Her hair is a mess, the back of her shirt is torn, she reeks of alcohol and sex, and now her makeup is running down her face. She isn't sure she could have thought up a worse way to confront Killian if she had tried, but she is still determined to confront him. "What the hell was that back there, Jones?!" she yells.

He recoils from the volume of her attack. Was not expecting sobbing Swan to turn into screaming Swan, he thinks. All the things that their dalliance could have meant run through his mind – just sex, meeting a need, missing you, making up, loving you. He isn't sure what to say to this version of Emma though, so he dodges the question. "Come inside, love?" It comes out as more of a question than the direction that he was hoping for.

She is caught completely off guard. What kind of man invites a jealous emotional ex into their apartment at 3 in the morning? She simply nods.

Inside his apartment, she finds her rage somewhat cooled. He offers her coffee, which she inexplicably accepts. Then neither of them knows what to do. He breaks the silence first. "What brought you here, Emma?"

She was never expecting her little trip here to go quite like this. She blushes and stares at her coffee. "I was drunk and angry with you," she manages to mumble. But she can't make herself look at him.

"Angry with me about what happened in the alley?" he asks incredulously. "I thought you wanted that."

"I did. I was more angry about you letting me have what I wanted when your girlfriend was just inside the bar." She feels the tears slipping silently down her cheeks and is thankful for a curtain of hair to hide them. I have made enough of a fool of myself for one lifetime, she thinks. I can't believe I came here to confront him about not being the stand-up guy I thought he was and to get angry with him because I loosened my morals.

"Emma, look at me." Now his voice is all steely command.

She hesitates. In truth she isn't sure that she can look at him. She has bared her soul to him, told him that she wants him enough to compromise her own values. She is ashamed of herself. She had promised herself after Neal that she would never find herself in that position again.

He waits patiently, as she fights her inner monologue and digs up the courage to simply look at him. He locks his eyes on her reddened green orbs and resists the building urge to dry her tears and clutch her close. "She. Is. Not. My. Girlfriend."

She startles. He watches as she processes. She considers if she can believe him, finds nothing to suggest she can't, is horrified about her behavior, and begins to weigh her options. That's when he cuts in not wanting her to take the option to run.

"Emma, I've missed you. I called, sent texts and finally just tried to stay away. But I'm back now, and it doesn't seem like you can stay away either. So let's give this thing a real chance. No more running."

"I haven't messed everything up too bad?"

"Love, I don't think you ever could." And he is at her side, drying her tears, smoothing her hair, and pulling her close.

She knows they'll have a lot to talk about, but for now she is content to allow this to be their beginning.