AN: Two things you may like to know before you read:

1. This is my first Captain Swan fic.
2. It's been about 10 years since I last wrote something so please forgive the the possible rustiness of my skills.

(Un-beta'ed)


Emma rushed across the semi-crowded courtyard; half eaten bear-claw in her mouth, stack of books in her arms.

God, she was so late.

Her professor was going to murder her.

This was all David's fault. David and his stupid, old-fashioned, wind-up alarm clock.

"Think of it as a good luck charm," he'd told her as she'd been packing for her final semester of college. "I used it all throughout my college years and it never once failed me."

Stupid David with his stupidly charming face and his stupid sweet gestures.

Yes, this was definitely David's fault.

As Emma continued to mentally curse her brother, she quickly turned down a path she frequently used as a short cut to the Science building. She sent a 'thank you' out to whatever deities were listening that she lived on campus (parking was such a nightmare) and adjusted the books in her hold enough to sneak a quick glance at the watch on her left wrist.

(Pointless, really, as she already knew what it was going to tell her).

Grumbling irritably, she lifted her now-free left hand to the breakfast she'd haphazardly stuffed into her mouth before she'd left her dorm that morning, and took a hearty bite. The sweet pastry did little to lighten her mood as she glanced ahead, still at least five minutes away from her destination (and ten minutes late to her class). She shoved the remaining bit of the donut into her mouth and chewed as she increased her pace. As she did so, the books she had precariously balanced in the cradle of her right arm slipped slightly from her grip, causing her to momentarily look away from the path in front of her. She continued forward as she adjusted the stack in her grasp and just when she thought she had it under control, she ran smack dab into something tall and solid.

Her world tilted as she stumbled backward, the stack of books that had been so important only moments ago, forgotten as they tumbled from her arms during her effort to remain upright.

Her attempt, it seemed, was futile, however, as she ended up flat on her back on the sidewalk; her long, blonde hair in her face, books scattered all around her on the ground.

Good luck charm, my ass.

Seriously, she was so going to throttle her idiot brother.

After regaining her bearings, she moved to rise just as a pair of hands stretched into her line of sight. She studied them for a moment in bewilderment, unsettled by the collision (and lack of morning coffee), before placing her own hands in them on impulse. As she was lifted off the ground, she became aware of several things at once: her ass really hurt; someone seemed to be talking to her; the hands holding hers were soft and warm and, oddly, familiar.

It was this thought that sent her back to reality, her green eyes suddenly flicking toward the man before her (the man whose hands still held hers).

Crap, Emma thought, he is really cute.

Cute and clearly distressed, his artfully tousled, dark hair falling over his striking blue eyes as he babbled endlessly, spouting what she now realized was a ridiculous number of apologies.

So that's what she'd collided with (or, more accurately, who).

She shook herself mentally (Now is really not the time to be ogling boys, Emma) and forced her brain to focus on what he was saying to her.

"—wasn't looking where I was going, lass, I'm so sorry. "

Of course he had an accent.

Of course (as if he wasn't attractive enough, ugh).

It was the chiming of the clock tower in the courtyard signaling the change of the hour that reminded her how she'd gotten into this situation in the first place.

It's also what reignited her (misplaced) aggravation, which she now directed at the handsome, bearded man before her as she abruptly ripped her hands from his gentle hold and stepped back a few paces, glaring all the while.

Her reaction clearly caught him off guard as he had finally stopped his incessant babbling. His brow furrowed in confusion as Emma shifted her gaze from him to the textbooks littering the ground. She checked her watch once more (fifteen minutes late now) and sighed before stooping to sort out what was hers and he mirrored her.

He was so close she could feel the heat from his body, smell the cologne he was wearing (or did he just naturally smell that good?) and, really, she tried to just ignore him, pick up her things, and continue on her way to class but…

Damn it, she was only human and there was just something about him that kept pulling at her. So she glanced up.

The bastard was already looking at her.

When their eyes met this time, he smiled warmly, held out his hand, and said, "I'm Killian."

Emma looked from his hand to his face a couple of times before she wordlessly rose from her place on the ground, restacked books in her graps, determinedly ignoring his outstretched hand.

"And I'm late for class, no thanks to you," she sharply replied as she turned away from him.

As she started to walk down the path toward the conglomeration of science buildings, she heard 'Killian' laugh and, what she assumed, were his footsteps behind her.

He was following her. Fantastic.

She picked up her pace, shifting the pile in her arms again but this time without looking away from what was ahead of her (she so did not need to run into any other good-looking men today, thanks).

"You're a tough lass, aren't you?" She heard Killian ask, his lilting voice laced with amusement.

Emma said nothing as she rolled her eyes and continued walking.

"You know," he began, now walking evenly with her, "Most men would take your silence as off-putting, but I love a challenge."

Emma sighed once more, threw a glare at him, and focused ahead again, "Why are you following me?"

She saw his smile widen from the corner of her eye (a smile that absolutely did not make her heart flutter wildly in her chest), clearly pleased that he'd gotten her to talk to him.

"Who says I'm following you?" He retorted, amusedly raising an eyebrow.

Emma scoffed and shot another brief glare at him; she'd just met this guy and he already knew exactly what buttons to push (and took obvious enjoyment in doing so).

"So, what's your name, lass. I told you mine, only fair you return the favor."

For whatever reason, she decided to indulge him (if only to get him off her back).

"It's Emma," she said gruffly, noticing she was (blessedly) close to her destination.

"Emma," he repeated appreciatively, shifting the heap of books in his arms that paralleled her own, "Like the novel."

"What novel?" Emma replied before she could stop herself.

Okay, she really had to get away from this guy. Now.

"What novel?" he repeated, his tone fraught with disbelief, "Jane Austen? One of the greatest English novelists of the Regency era, probably of all time?"

Emma huffed out a laugh and raised an eyebrow at him, "Lit major, I take it?"

Caught off guard by her sudden change in temperament, Killian simply stared at her for a moment before laughing nervously and looking away from her in a way that could only be described as bashful.

"I am indeed," he said, scratching behind his ear with his free hand, before he gestured at the books in her hold, "I'm going to hazard a guess and say yours is in some area of science?"

She nodded and allowed herself a small smile, "Specifically, natural sciences."

Killian met her green eyes with his blue as his forehead creased in confusion again, "Natural sciences?"

"Yeah," she said, heading in the direction of Hopper College of Engineering, "You know, chemistry, physics…biology?"

Killian chewed his bottom lip in earnest when he realized she'd altered her (their) course, before simply replying with an, "Ah."

They continued their trek in silence, seemingly lost in their own thoughts. When they were finally before the main doors, Emma hesitated momentarily before turning to Killian, shifting the books in her arms once more so she'd be able to open the door.

"Um well, it was nice to meet you, Killian," she said, suddenly nervous as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She's usually not this awkward around guys, what the hell?

The sound of his name seemed to shake him from his thoughts as he met her eyes and chewed his lip once more, briefly drawing her gaze to his mouth. Emma licked her lips nervously when he said nothing and moved to open the door.

"Wait," she heard him mumble.

When she looked at him again, his expression seemed pained as his criminally blue eyes roved her face, searching for what she didn't know. She waited, blinking at him as her hand rested on the door handle, pile of books balanced precariously supported by her left arm.

"I-I don't usually do this," he stuttered, his eyes holding hers as he took a step toward her, "But, um, would you, I don't know, perhaps want to get a coffee with me sometime?"

She must've looked terrified, like a deer caught in the headlights because after a moment of silence, Killian tore his eyes from hers and laughed depreciatively, his hand moving to scratch behind his ear again (and she was so not thinking about how adorable it made him look).

"Oh, um," Emma started, "Actually I—my course load is really hellish this semester and I don't really know if I've got time to—"

"Right, of course," he said, waving her off as he shot an obviously disappointed, but understanding, smile at her.

She returned it hesitantly and moved once more to open the door and (finally) head to her class (perhaps if she hurried, she could catch the last half).

"Emma," Killian said as she stood with the door propped open. He stepped toward her to help ease the weight of the door and handed her a folded piece of notebook paper.

"In case you need a break from your hellish schedule," he explained with another smile as Emma took the paper from him, "Right then, um, see you around, I suppose."

Emma nodded in agreement and mumbled back a quick "see you" before she turned away from Killian and entered the engineering building. As she walked slowly up the stairs in the direction of her classroom, she attempted to push all thoughts of her handsome, new acquaintance to the back of her mind, remembering the last time she'd let a guy come between her and her studies; never again.

After quickly climbing the stairs, she reached her classroom and looked through the window in the door. The professor's back was (blessedly) turned toward the class as she slipped silently through and into a desk in the last row. Sighing with relief, she sifted through her belongings in search of her Quantum Physics textbook, only to discover that it wasn't there. Strange, she thought, I could've sworn I brought it with me this morning.

She thought back to her run-in with Killian and wondered briefly if she had left it on the ground in the quad, when she saw an unfamiliar cover peeking out beneath her things. Puzzled, she pulled it out and looked at it.

It was a copy of Pride and Prejudice.

Or, more specifically, it was Killian's copy of Pride and Prejudice. She must've picked it up accidentally when they'd had their run-in.

Wait. If she had his book, then that meant…

He must have hers.

Shit, Emma thought with a grimace, What the hell am I supposed to do now?

Sighing, she forced herself to leave the issue alone until later; she'd already missed half of her class because of Killian, she was not going to miss the rest of it because of him too. So, Emma spent the next twenty-five minutes soaking up as much knowledge as she could.

It was later that evening in her dorm, while she readied herself for bed, that she found that folded piece of notebook paper Killian had given her earlier that day in the pocket of her jeans. She sat on her bed, back up against the wall, and unfolded it curiously.

It was his damn phone number.

Her roommate, Mary Margaret, walked in just as Emma chuckled in surprise, her eyes unconsciously tracing the curves and edges of his (naturally) elegant handwriting.

"What's so funny?" She asked the blonde.

"Oh, it's nothing," Emma said, a small smile lingering on her face, "I just remembered where I left that book I misplaced today."

Mary Margaret nodded absently in response as Emma admitted to herself in that moment that maybe this wasn't just about her book and that maybe, just maybe, she was also looking forward to having an excuse to see Killian again


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