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Emma didn't believe in fate, not after everything she's been through in her life, but he made her consider there was a chance. Sometimes she thought about the man who flipped her world upside down. Wondered how he would've reacted if she'd told him about Henry. Or what he would've said if she had admitted she'd fallen for him after the most glorious week of her life. But she never told him about then five-year-old Henry or her stupid feelings. He was gone before she could even consider taking that risk. 

Good. 

Love brings nothing but wasted years and endless torment. Emma was better off with him leaving when he did. 

"You okay, Mom?"

Henry broke her bitter trip down memory lane. One she's taken too many times this week. Stupid emotions. 

"Yeah, kid, all good. How are you? We're only about thirty minutes out."

Henry eyed her curiously. Fuck he looked like his father when he made that face. It broke Emma's heart, but she'd never tell him. He isn't Neal and would never hurt her like he did. 

"What's that look for? Hmm?"

Henry was silent for a moment before he turned down the radio. "You've just been weird this week, and I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know this isn't where you met Dad, but Storybrooke obviously makes you feel weird. That's why Aunt MM's and Uncle David always come to our place in Boston. I just…I hope you didn't feel like I was pressuring you to go there this year."

Emma was too stunned to speak. How did she raise such an emotionally mature young man when she's, well, not. 

"Henry, kid, I love you so freaking much. I don't avoid Storybrooke-"

"Mom," Henry rolled his eyes at the blatant lie. 

"Okay, we don't come here often. It's nothing bad, I promise. And never ever worry about pressuring me to do anything, okay? We always promised to be upfront with one another. I'd tell you if I didn't want to come here."

"Okay, as long as you're sure, Mom." 

Emma looked at him again; god, she had the best kid ever. "Yeah, I'm sure. Thanks for being the best, kid."

"That's me, the best!" The two giggled, her ever so modest son. "Now, can we stop? I really need to go to the bathroom?"

"Ugh, I knew it! We're so close, can't you hold it? I'm worried about the storm."

"Mommmmmm. I just saw a sign that there's a store off the next exit. I can't hold it, please I'll be quick. Besides, the weatherman said the storm wouldn't hit for hours."

Emma conceded it was easier this way. Plus, she had to go to the bathroom if she were being honest. Henry was right, the exit was less than a mile away, and she could see the store he'd mentioned. There seemed to be a tiny town, one that rivaled Storybrooke for how small and quaint it was. 

Hopefully, they let non-paying customers use the bathroom. These moms and pops could be such a hit or miss. She brought her wallet in just in case. 

Emma wasn't sure why she parked in front of this particular store, Jones’ Wooden Thumb. There were dozens on the main street. She shook off the weird feeling; this is the one Henry mentioned. That's why. No other reason. 

Just go in, Swan. 

They didn't see another soul as they walked in, which was surprising given how packed the shopping center seemed to be. After failing to see even a staff member, Emma walked around and took in the scenery. It was breathtaking. 

The shop sold pieces of art and decoration made out of what she assumed to be driftwood. Everything was hand-carved, it was beautiful. Henry seemed to be just as in awe of the pieces around him. 

"How did they make this? Do you use a chainsaw? How did they get these different colors?" 

He was spouting out questions so fast Emma failed to notice they were no longer alone. 

"Oh, that, my boy, is a trade secret. But you look trustworthy. Would you like to see my workshop?"

Emma froze. 

It was the one person she dreaded running into. More than Neal. More than her birth parents. 

It was Killian Jones. 

Oh fuck. 

                                                      ---------

He didn't see her at first. 

In fact, he didn't notice her until he'd already opened up his damned mouth. He had heard the lad and was so excited to see a young person interested in his work rather than looking at their phone. 

Then he saw her. 

His siren, his Swan. 

He hadn't seen her in half a decade, and she was more beautiful than he remembered. And he thought of her often. 

They had spent a week together all those years ago. Merely exchanged names at first, but it felt so much more intimate than that. Perhaps it was the different ways they had brought the other so much pleasure that made it feel so real. 

He'd shared more with her in that week than he'd shared with some of his best mates after years of friendship. Of course, they avoided certain topics. And it appears Emma had omitted a rather large topic herself. 

He wasn't mad. It was just another reminder that they didn't know each other as well as he pretended during the sleepless nights. 

She was spooked. He could see it clear as day. He wasn't sure what to say next. Does he tell her she's haunted his dreams since his abrupt departure? Does he pretend he'd never seen her before? That he doesn't know how she moans when he…nope, he cannot have these thoughts in front of who he assumes is her son. 

He's definitely older than five, so he's not concerned the lad is his, but there's this weird feeling in his chest. He can't put his finger on it. 

"Yeah! I would love to see it! Mom, can you believe it? Wait - first, can I use your bathroom?"

Killian shook his head as he tried to come back to reality. "Aye, lad. It's just towards the back on the right." 

The boy ran off without another word. They were alone. 

Fuck.

She looked stunning. Her hair is a bit longer than the last time he saw her. She was wearing the same red jacket. God, he loved the red leather jacket.  

"Swan-"

She stepped back as he reached for her. The sting in his heart hurt more than he imagined. She still hadn't met his eyes; she looked like a deer in headlights as she looked back towards where her son went.

"Emma? I…how… I'm sorry, love. How are you?"

She laughed. At him, definitely not because he said something funny. 

"Please, Emma. I never meant to…I know I fucked up. I'm sorry."

"Thanks."

Killian wasn't sure how much longer he had before her son returned, and with the warm welcome he was receiving, he was running out of time.

"Do you want me to pretend I don't know you in front of him? Or I can act like I'm busy, and you guys can leave so you don't have to feel uncomfortable? Whatever you want, Swan, I'll do it."

He saw the flash in her eyes. He'd said the same thing all those years ago. Killian saw her open her mouth to speak, but her son had returned.

"Can we see your shop? This stuff is sooooo cool!" He envied her son. He was blissfully ignorant of the tension in the room. What Killian wouldn't give to be him at this moment. 

Killian looked at Emma, still frozen. He didn't want to make the decision. He'd given her an out, and he'd be damned if he took another choice from her ever again. 

"Henry, I don't think he has time to show us the shop anymore. Isn't that right?"

He tried to hide his disappointment, he failed, no doubt.  

"Sorry about that, lad. I do have a couple of orders to finish before Christmas. Perhaps another time?"

"But you just said…please, I promise I won't break anything. I'll be good!" 

Killian looked back at Emma, he could see her resolve breaking. Seemed like this was a frequent occurrence, but he couldn't blame her - her son was giving the most killer puppy dog eyes he'd ever seen. 

"Fine, only if Killian has a minute. And no touching anything without his permission."

Killian was shocked. Emma agreed to spend more time at the shop, and he wasn't going to waste a single moment. He was finally near her. 

Well, her son. But she was there, even if it was on the other side of the workshop. 

Killian tried his best to push her from his mind as he was showing Henry the different tools he used to make one of his pieces. He was proud of his work, he was excited to share this with someone. Henry asked the most interesting questions, and he genuinely enjoyed talking to the boy. 

Henry would call his mother over, and she'd humor him for a moment before bringing her attention back to her phone. 

"I'm sorry about that." Killian didn't answer Henry immediately, confused why the boy was apologizing. "She's usually a lot nicer or will pretend to be. Did you say something after I walked away? You should say you're sorry…even if you're not." He whispered the last part, which made Killian chuckle. He was a bright boy indeed. 

"Your mother is fine, Henry, I promise. She's probably just talking to…." Killian paused, not wanting to entertain the idea that Emma had someone else. 

"She's probably texting David."

Killian's heart sank. She did have someone. Of course, she did, how could she not. It's been years, and it's not like she ran back to his arms. 

"Yeah, we're going to David's and MM's for Christmas. They live in Storybrooke. Mom used to live there too, or we did, but then we moved to Boston when I was five." 

Oh fuck. 

She moved because of him. That's where they met, and she moved across state lines even with him out of the country.

"Where are you going to spend Christmas? You shouldn't be alone. Maybe you can come with us!"

"Henry, what are you two talking about?"

That sure as hell got Emma's attention. 

"Henry, you cannot invite strangers to places. Let alone to a house that isn't even ours. Right?"

He saw the boy's shoulders deflate. Apparently, this is a conversation they've had more than once. But Killian wouldn't lie, hearing Emma call him a stranger stung. 

"I appreciate the invite, Henry. It's very kind of you, but I'm not spending the holidays alone."

Emma's head spun so fast that he thought she'd hurt her neck.

Interesting. 

"Oh, who are you spending it with then?"

Killian debated how he'd respond, but Henry didn't understand the weight of his question. 

"My brother, Liam. He lives in town too, and we'll spend it together with his wife." Killian looked over to Emma to try and gauge her reaction. 

Nothing. 

Killian looked up at the clock hanging by the front door. They'd been there for two hours! He didn't want them to leave, but he knew he'd pushed his luck far enough today.  

"Henry? I know you and your mum have a bit of a drive left, and I heard there was a storm coming. I reckon you should get on the road before you're trapped here." 

"Oh, okay. You're right. Do you mind if I get something before we go? I've had my eye on something, and I want to get it for my Mom."

"Of course, lad! Anything you want, it's on the house."

"Killian, we can't. It's only right we pay for it."

That was the first time she'd addressed him. "I know, love, but spending the afternoon with Henry has been a joy. Please, allow me."

The two adults couldn't look away from each other while Henry went and picked out his gift. Killian started taking steps towards Emma as he realized their time was already ending yet again.

"Swan-"

"How'd you know?" Henry came back with his gift. 

A swan.

It was a centerpiece he'd been working on. Over the last five years, he found himself drawn to the animal. Whenever he was stuck creatively, he always could work through it with a swan piece. 

"How'd you know that was our last name?"

"I…your mum said it earlier." She didn't, but he didn't think Henry would call him on it. 

"Well, Henry, say thank you to Killian. We need to get back on the road."  

Henry gave Killian a hug and thanked him for his time. He sprinted to the door, leaving them alone once again. 

"Emma…"

"Thanks for this afternoon. Bye, Killian." Emma had already started to walk away before he could say another word. 

He stood there for a moment, but he didn't want her to leave. He tried to find the words to stop her, but he saw her standing there, frozen. He hoped that maybe she'd say anything before walking out of his life again. 

Then he saw what she was looking at. The storm wasn't on its way.

It was here. 

A couple of inches already covered the parking lot. 

"Swan, please don't drive in this."

"It'll be fine. I just put on snow tires because I had a feeling this would happen." 

He was dismissed, he knew it and didn't want to push it further. Emma and Henry ran to the car, and Killian couldn't help but watch to make sure they made it away safely. He saw Emma try and start her bug, but nothing happened. 

Oh fuck. 

                                                     ---------

This couldn't be happening. 

Not after being trapped in the same store as the man who has haunted her dreams. She tried to start the bug, but nothing happened. 

"Mom?" She could see Henry's eyes started to water. He was scared, and her frustration probably didn't help.

"It's fine, kid. You know how this car can be finicky."

"I'm cold. Can we go back to the shop while we wait for it to heat up?"

Emma didn't want to, but the bug wasn't giving her much hope. She looked up and saw Killian still standing there as he watched them. 

"SWAN! Get back in here!" 

Emma thought it, but she didn't want to look like she was giving into him. She probably would've stayed out for another couple of minutes if it weren't for the kid shivering next to her. 

"Ugh, fine. Henry, let's go back in." 

They sprinted back into the shop, and Killian greeted them at the door. He offered to look at her car, which she took him up on. The two stood inside as they watched Killian fight with the bug. 

After nearly thirty minutes, Killian came back inside with a disappointing look upon his otherwise handsome face. 

"So, good news-bad news, Swan." He waited for a response, but she didn't seem to be in the mood to play games. "The good news is the piece I need to replace is inexpensive and is super easy to change out. The, um, bad news is that I can't get the piece in until tomorrow afternoon."

"What do you mean?"

"Liam, my brother, he's a mechanic. He's not available right now, but he has the piece, and we can get it from him early tomorrow and send you on your way." Emma didn't give him any reaction beyond being frustrated with the situation and the joke that apparently was her life. "I will call Widow Lucas and see if she has any rooms available for the evening." He didn't wait for any acknowledgment before he turned away. 

Henry seemed to have sensed the tension this time and decided to walk around the store while Emma stood frozen. What tiny smidge of hope she had disappeared once she overheard Killian say, "Please check again, love. Are you sure you have nothing?"

Perfect. They had no place to stay for the night. 

"Uh, Swan? I'm not sure if you heard, but it seems as though there's no room at the inn. Pardon the pun." 

"Well, thanks for checking. We'll figure something out. Thanks, Killian." 

Emma wasn't sure what she would figure out. It's different now that she had Henry, otherwise, she would've toughed it out and stayed in her car. She looked back outside to the storm. There was no way she would have the Nolans come out in this - even though they totally would in a heartbeat. 

"Swan…listen, I know this isn't ideal. And I don't want to make you any more uncomfortable than I already have, but I cannot let you and your boy go out in the cold. I, uh, my house is right behind here. And I have two guest rooms. I'm not going to force you to do anything, but would you consider staying with me, I mean at my house, for the evening?"

At first, Emma wanted to laugh in his face. Then yell. Yelling sounded really good right about now. 

How dare he make such an offer! After everything he'd done to her, with her.

 Focus Emma. 

But then she saw Henry wander back to her. She couldn't punish Henry for Killian's lack of communication all those years ago. He had multiple guest rooms, she didn't miss how he made that explicitly clear. 

She looked back at those ocean blue eyes and was lost in them, in the memories of that week. Damn, she missed him. 

FOCUS EMMA.

"Fine. Thank you, Killian."

Emma definitely caught him off guard with how quickly she'd given in. Killian asked for a couple of moments to close up the shop to go home. He wasn't kidding, the shop was 20 steps from his house. Not that she counted. 

When they walked in, it looked like everything a home should. The one she'd told Killian she'd dreamt about growing up. It was her dream home. 

Oh fuck. 

                                                     ---------

He was surprised with how easily Emma gave in would be an understatement. Something told Killian it had more to do with the kid currently eating him out of house and home more than anything else. He'd take what he could get. 

He knew it was a risk bringing her here, to their dream home. They'd talked about it one of the nights they were tangled up together. He didn't mean to model his house after their conversation. Still, subconsciously over time, he noticed how he'd done exactly that. Killian assumed it would be the closest they'd ever get to their dream home together. 

But now she was here. He wouldn't push her, but he'd be damned if he didn't savor every moment. 

Emma had barely said a thing, but Henry suggested a game night after dinner. She couldn't avoid him. The trio played Monopoly, one of Killian's favorites. 

He noticed Emma was a bit aggressive with her buying of property. They just so happened to be the ones Killian had voiced he planned on buying after his first trip around the board. At first, he thought he'd imagined it, but then he saw it again. She was smiling, hell, she was laughing and enjoying herself. 

Eventually, Henry gave in and watched the adults play before looking for a movie to watch. 

"Swan, you're a pirate!" 

"Oh, looks like someone is being a sore loser." She threw her head back and laughed at him. It was the most beautiful noise he'd ever heard. 

Correction, the second most. First place also belonged to her, but that was saved for more adult games. 

Apparently, Killian's rolls weren't up to par, and Emma jokingly accused him of cheating. "Don't think I'm taking my eyes off you for a second."

At first, he was concerned, but he saw the corners of her mouth barely twitch up to a smile. Killian licked his lips and leaned forward. "I'd despair if you did." He wasn't sure where the hell that'd come from. Now concerned he'd gone too far, he made eye contact with Emma with his apology on the tip of his tongue. 

Except he didn't apologize. He couldn't because he saw Emma blushing, and fuck if he didn't miss seeing how far down that blush ran. 

The game didn't last much longer as Emma was well ahead of Killian almost from the start. Henry was very much over the game as he waited for the two of them to make their way over to the couches for the Muppets Christmas movie. 

Henry decided he wanted to sprawl out on the couch. Which, of course, left the loveseat for the two of them to share. Killian was about to offer to sit on the floor when Emma had asked if he'd bring them over a blanket. 

He'd be lying if he wasn't confused by the whiplash of Emma's mood, but he wasn't going to question this gift. Killian made his way over to Emma, and at first, there was a couple of inches of room between them. But he swore that Emma had gotten closer to him as the movie went on. Or maybe he moved closer to her. But she wasn't retreating at his touch anymore, and he thanked his lucky stars. 

They talked throughout the movie, laughing at the ridiculous hijinx. At one point, Henry had shushed them since they talked too much. After that, they settled down, still trying to make the other one laugh without disrupting Henry. 

Henry had fallen asleep at the end of the movie, so Emma brought him up to one of the bedrooms so he could sleep in peace for the rest of the evening. While she went upstairs, Killian decided to make some popcorn and brew hot chocolate for the two of them. 

Emma had come back downstairs when he saw her in her pajamas. She was wearing one of his shirts. 

The one he'd left five years ago. 

Oh fuck. 

                                                     ---------

She'd forgotten that she had bought this shirt. His shirt. 

Go figure they'd run into each other. 

Emma was scared he'd read too much into it, but then again, would he really be all that wrong? Tonight she'd let her guard down again, and she missed him. Things were easy between them, playing stupid Monopoly and laughing at that silly movie. 

Neither of which were actually stupid. She was merely frustrated with herself for giving in to him so easily again. She nearly jumped him after the look he'd given her at the table. If not for the ten-year-old who now slept soundly upstairs. 

They were alone again, and Emma wasn't sure what to make of the recent development. She saw his face, he'd recognized the shirt instantly. She'd hoped he'd show her an ounce of mercy and move on with the evening. As if he were reading her mind, he did just that. 

"I thought some substances were in order, Swan."

"Don't forget the-"

"Cinnamon. Already topped you off, but I have more if you'd like some." Killian extended his arm with hot chocolate in hand, and Emma made her way over to him without a second thought. Emma hadn't had a good cup of hot chocolate all season and moaned as she took a sip without a thought. 

When she looked up to Killian, he looked almost in pain. She recognized that face. It meant danger. As much fun as that sounded, she couldn't give in. Not again. 

"Ready for the second movie?" Emma broke the moment. She felt guilty, but she needed to protect herself. Protect them from each other. 

She saw the defeat in his eyes, but he covered it back up quickly. The two headed back into the living room. There was a brief moment where they were both unsure where to sit. Henry wasn't there anymore, so there was no reason to sit together anymore. 

"Do you want to sit over here again? You're a lot warmer than the blanket, and your house is freezing." 

That was the lamest line in the history of lamest lines.

But that didn't deter Killian. She knew she was giving him mixed signals, but he respected her boundaries which only made her want him more. 

Stupid respectful English man. 

The two decided to go with the best Christmas movie, Die Hard. 

As their drinks and popcorn were long forgotten, Emma felt Killian stretch his arm behind her head halfway through the movie. 

She laughed at the move. 

"Are we in junior high?" Emma turned to face him, but he could barely look her in the eyes. She could see the tips of his elf-like ears turning bright red. He didn't say anything, but he didn't move his arm. After another beat, Emma leaned into his side. 

Both were silent as they watched Bruce Willis climb through the air duct. 

Then Killian lowered his arm onto Emma's; he tugged her ever so slightly closer into his side. Emma didn't stop it. 

She missed his touches, even the innocent ones. Although nothing was innocent about the ways Killian had touched her before. 

As the movie progressed, Emma had practically wrapped herself around Killian. His head rested above hers. She'd sworn she'd felt him kiss the top of her head as the credits rolled. 

Netflix's homepage soon illuminated the living room, but neither moved. Emma didn't want to break contact first. She missed him so much. Emma knew it was insane to fall in love with someone in a week, but she had. 

Then he left. 

For his wedding. 

The veil was broken. She remembered why she was so frustrated and heartbroken. He had to fly back to England for a wedding. He had used her as his last hurrah and left her with a note staying where he'd gone and his phone number. 

That was it. 

Killian must've sensed the shift in Emma's demeanor.  

"Swan? You alright, love?"

Emma nearly jumped off the couch. "Don't call me that, Killian. I shouldn't be here. We…we shouldn't have just done that."

"Done what, lo - Swan? We watched a movie. That's all, and I'm confused where this is coming from."

"You're confused? Do I need to remind you why you left me all those years ago?" Emma didn't realize how loud she was until she finished her question, which sounded more like an acquisition than anything. 

"Why I left? Do you mean the wedding? I apologized for having to leave and left you my number." 

Emma walked away from him, beyond frustrated and disgusted with how carefree he was about the whole thing. 

"Yes, Killian. You left me a simple note stating you were going to your wedding and left me your number. Real classy move there, by the way. I can't believe I was starting to fall for you again. You'd think I'd learn! And where's your wife? Oh my God, you're married and we just fucking cuddled on the couch like fucking teenagers. What - why are you laughing at me?! What the fuck, Killian Jones. Are you kidding me right now?" 

She saw red, and she was about two seconds away from grabbing Henry and taking her chances at the inn. 

"Emma Marie Swan. You beautifully stubborn incredible woman, whom I love so bloody much. Did you truly think I left you for my own wedding?" Emma shook her head. She didn't miss what he'd said. "Emma, come here." He waited for her to make her way back to him. "It wasn't my wedding, darling. It was Liam's, my brother I mentioned earlier. I was the best man and needed to fly out for the wedding." 

Oh fuck. 

                                                     ---------

He'd just told her he loved her. 

She didn't run. She might've thrown a pillow at him, but she was still here in his arms. 

He was so upset that his actions had hurt her. That she had ever believed he could ever hurt her in a million years. 

"Emma -"

"You keep calling me that." That's all she said. He wasn't sure if she was still in shock. 

"Aye, that's your name, my love. And truthfully, I've missed saying it over the years." 

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. She looked so scared. "You did?"

Killian had to look away for a brief moment as he felt the tears well in his eyes. She'd never been shown what a treasure she truly was, and Killian had only added to that pain. He looked back down at her; a million thoughts raced in his mind. He'd thought about this moment often over the years, what he would say if he ever found her in front of him again. 

All thoughts left him, all grand speeches disappeared with one look at her. 

"Aye." 

"Good."

Killian wasn't sure who moved first, but Killian's lips were on hers in the next moment. He'd almost forgotten how soft they were. Almost. 

He felt her hands wander as they played with the hair on the nape of his neck. He was half-hard, and they'd barely gotten to first base. She would be his undoing. 

Then she moaned into their kiss. 

No, that would be his undoing. 

Killian wanted to take things slow for their first time together, but he couldn't control himself. Not as Emma rocked her hips into his so wantonly. He slowly moved them back towards the couch until Emma fell back into the seat. Killian hovered over her as his two arms framed her. 

He'd sworn he heard her whine in protest, but he was in no position to make fun of her need. He was just as greedy as she was. Before thinking of his next move, Emma made it for him and brought him down. He assumed she'd want him on top, but he had other plans. It'd been five years since he’d had a taste of her, and he wasn't going to wait even one more moment to get another. 

She was so sweet; he'd forgotten how much he loved her taste. 

Oh fuck.

                                                     ---------

She missed him for many reasons, but right now, he was reminding her why she missed his mouth. 

"Fuck, Emma, I could come just from this alone. You are absolutely soaked, my darling." 

Emma could barely compute the dirty words between his licks. She hadn't felt pleasure like this since their last time, and he was making her go foggy in the brain. 

"Don't, oh fuck, don't you dare. Not yet."

"Don't what, love?" He stopped giving her the most intense smolder, disarming her even further. "Hmm? Come on now, Swan, use your words." He smacked her bundle of nerves when she didn't respond. Emma didn't know how intense that pleasure could feel. She'd have to catalog it for later. 

"Don't finish yet, need to…."

He laughed. The smug asshole. The smug asshole with the most talented mouth. "Oh, my love, I'm not finishing anywhere else but inside you. Don't you worry, lass, you'll get your fill soon."

He dove back in; this time he added a finger, then two, making her see stars faster than she had in years. She could barely think straight as she came down from her high as Killian's mouth slowly teased her. 

Without a second thought, she reached for him and kissed him once more. She could taste herself, and although new, she didn't mind it. The fact he could make her come undone so quickly after years apart only turned her on more. 

As the two broke for air, Emma spoke up, "You said you had two guest rooms?" Emma saw his face fall for a moment; she realized she hadn't been as smooth as she intended. "What I meant was, I was hoping you had…a…" She finally felt the nerves she'd pushed down from earlier. For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to look him in the eyes.

"Would you like to come to bed with me?" She could only shake her head in response. "Emma? I have no expectations. I didn't think you'd sit next to me tonight, let alone anything we just did. Being near you, having you in my arms, is more than I thought I'd ever get again." 

She wanted to be brave, for him but primarily for her. He'd been the man of her dreams, and he was finally in front of her again. After a moment of reflection, she found her voice again. "Killian, I know we need to talk and figure some things out, but I know three things." 

It was his turn to nervously shake his head. 

"First, I'm so freaking happy Henry had to go to the bathroom and that out of all the places to stop, I felt drawn to stop at your shop." The two chuckled as they thanked Henry for this moment. "Two, if you don't make good on your earlier promises, you'll be in big trouble." 

Emma was completely thrown off balance as Killian gathered her from the couch and nearly ran up the stairs. She would've been impressed if she weren't so concerned he'd drop her by accident. They made it to his bedroom in no time, and he carefully placed her on the bed as if she were something precious. 

She was, to him at least.

Emma removed her clothes as Killian watched her from the foot of the bed. He followed soon after. At first, he kept his boxers on and Emma wagged her finger before he knelt down. 

The two explored each other, just like they did all those years ago. At one point, they thought they heard Henry, but after another moment of silence, they realized it was the wind. While he was temporarily distracted, Emma flipped Killian onto his back. 

"I'd much prefer to do more enjoyable activities with you on your back, darling." He stuck out his bottom lip to emphasize his pout. 

"Patience," Emma whispered back, mocking him as he had told her that downstairs. "Grab onto the headboard, and do not move." 

Emma wasn't sure where this commanding voice came from inside, but Killian seemed to have loved it as he moved his hands instantly. She moved her mouth down his body. She had never been a fan of chest hair until Killian. But now? She found nothing sexier than the dark patches of hair that covered his perfect chest. He was firm but not overly muscular. He was perfect. 

Killian whimpered as Emma explored the planes of his chest. As she snuck down lower, she saw his hands move for a moment, and she stopped immediately. She would've pinned his hands to the bed if she weren't so far down. "Behave. Otherwise, you won't get your reward, Killian."

He instantly complied with her demand, he didn't take the threat lightly. 

Emma finally made her way down to her prize. God, he was bigger than she remembered. His cock was red and swollen and was leaking. At first, she teased with light kisses, but Killian's resolve gave in as his hips lifted from the bed. 

"Emma, please love, take pity." 

She looked up, her one hand still stroking him, "No."

Emma dove back down, taking him into her mouth entirely. She changed her speeds, sometimes humming around his tip. He made the most delicious moans, and Emma was soaked from it. She started to touch herself while she sucked him off. 

"Fuck, love, so fucking glorious. Look at you, sucking my cock and touching yourself. You dirty lass."

Emma was about to climax again, and she could feel how close Killian was. She knew she needed to stop if they wanted to be ready for the main event. 

"Emma, darling, this isn't where I want to finish. Not for the first time." Emma finally relented and let him go with a pop. This time it was Killian's turn to flip her over. "There we go, Swan, much better." 

Before she could give her retort, Emma saw Killian reaching over for the condoms, and she remembered something. 

"Killian?"

He stopped mid-tear of the packet. "Yes?"

"The third thing I wanted to mention." She met his eyes and found the courage. "I love you."

That was all Killian needed before he attacked her mouth again. "I don't know if I can do gentle or slow right now, but Emma Swan, I love you so much it hurts, and I promise I'll show you how much after this. We're long overdue, my love." 

She merely nodded as Killian lined himself up with her entrance. He didn't go slow, it wasn't gentle, but it was perfect. The two found a rhythm after a couple experimental thrusts. They lasted longer than either of them anticipated. Emma came first, Killian followed shortly after. He fell on top of her as he caught his breath. 

"That was…"

"A one-time thing."

Emma thought Killian would get whiplash for how fast his head twisted. She couldn't keep it together and started laughing immediately. 

"Oy, wench, you'll pay for that! It's rude to play with a man's heart like that. Especially as he still has the rubber on."

Emma rolled over and batted her eyes. "I'm sorry, Killian. I love you. Am I forgiven?" 

"You're lucky I love you too, Swan." He said it jokingly, but Emma knew she was indeed fortunate. 

The two came together two more times that night. They eagerly made up for the lost time. 

When Emma woke up the following day, she was hot. Like burning up. She didn't remember the blanket being so heavy before she went to bed, then she realized it. Killian had practically wrapped himself around her. He held onto her like she might disappear if he didn't. 

She was so touched by this incredibly infuriating, handsome, smug, charming man that she loved. Emma debated how to wake him up, but she remembered they weren't alone. Henry would be up soon and expect breakfast. 

Emma shimmied herself out of his clutch and made her way to the kitchen. She assumed Killian wouldn't mind her going through his cabinets as she looked for something to make. Eventually, she settled on pancakes and got to work. Henry would be up soon, the one thing he didn't get from her was an internal clock. 

She heard the bedroom door open as she finished putting down the second batch. She assumed it was Henry, but it was her other favorite guy. 

Killian came up behind her as she flipped the pancakes. "Something smells delicious." 

God, his voice was sin itself. "It's just from a box," she whispered as she leaned into his embrace. 

"I wasn't talking about the pancakes, love." Emma didn't realize he had spun her around until his lips were on hers again. When they broke for air Emma was thrown not to have his lips immediately back on hers. 

"I'm just…I missed you, Emma. So much. I can't believe you're here. I just can't believe…"

"I know, me too." 

Killian immediately dove back in with the same hunger as before. Emma was about to say the hell with the pancakes when they heard the upstairs bathroom toilet flush. 

They were not alone, and they needed to remember that. Henry made his way downstairs and grabbed a plate. Killian asked the boy how he slept, and the two fell into a conversation about the shop. 

Emma watched as Killian treated Henry as an adult and didn't baby him. It was crazy how fast the two of them bonded. She knew she wasn't the only one who was smitten with Killian. Emma also knew they'd need to talk about what came next because there had to be a next. She wouldn't allow for anything less. 

"Swan, I think we have enough pancakes to feed several Romanian powerlifters. Come sit down, love." 

Emma rolled her eyes, and she fixed herself a plate. She didn't mean to, but she placed a gentle kiss on Killian's head as she walked by. She didn't realize what she'd done until she saw Killian's eyes blown wide. 

"You guys can chill. I saw you down here already." 

Emma choked on the mouthful of pancake, concerned he meant last night. 

"Yeah, Mom, you guys should be careful by the stove. We're not allowed to play around in the kitchen." 

Both Emma and Killian had a sigh of relief that he only saw their morning activities. That would be an adjustment for Emma as she explored this with Killian. The rest of the meal went off without a hitch or reference to their rekindled romance. 

Emma stayed in to clean as the boys went outside to make Olaf. It's when she realized she was about to uproot her entire life and Henry's, and she couldn't think of a single thing to stop her from making this crazy move. No voices of self-doubt for her or Killian's love for her. 

Chapter 1: Not for the first time

Not for the first time, and surely not for the last, Hook woke up in an unfamiliar bed. Light was beginning to filter in through a large, high window. Damn it, he’d fallen asleep. And someone warm, soft and very naked was pressed up against him.He took a moment to appreciate the sensation before setting himself to the problem of how to extricate himself without waking her.

How much had he had to drink last night? The inevitable headache had not yet set in, but he had no very clear memory of how he’d gotten into this bed with this—he managed to pull away far enough to take a glance—blonde creature. And he generally kept his wits enough about him to slip out once the evening’s selection had drifted off. He must have been very drunk indeed.

This was, of course, the exact situation he tried to avoid. She was far too close, her head against his chest, and somehow she’d finagled herself directly into his arms. More than likely, she was the clingy type, and he’d much rather avoid a conversation before he made his exit, and that meant stealth. Somehow his left arm had ended up under her neck. How the hell was he meant to get it out? She’d certainly wake if he accidentally stabbed her with his—his—

Wait. Where—

He lifted his head to look past hers at his left arm. It did not end in a hook. It simply ended. He suddenly felt far more naked than he had a moment ago. He did not remove his hook during a tryst. Women who found the blade’s danger exciting rarely felt similarly about a stump. And where was it? Even his brace had been removed. How drunk, indeed?

Slowly, he maneuvered himself out of the tangle of their limbs. There was a small, protesting sound when he finally made his escape, but she seemed a heavy sleeper.

Controlling his trepidation, Hook stepped onto a surprisingly deep carpet and began the search for his clothes. Perhaps his prosthetic would be somewhere nearby. There were two piles of clothes on the floor, apparently examined in haste, one of which appeared mostly black, although the light in the room remained rather dim. He bent to pick it up and stared at it in consternation. These were not his clothes. The material was softer. Lighter. The coat shorter. No, he’d never worn such a thing. And there was no telltale glint of metal nearby. He cursed in frustration, remembering his intention to be silent only when he heard the rustling of bedsheets behind him.

The woman in the bed groaned, and in a voice ragged from sleep, said, “Babe, what time is it?”

Still naked, didn’t have anything resembling a watch, and a quick glance at the walls did not reveal a clock. Attempting to salvage his quest not to wake her, he murmured, “Terribly early, love. Go back to sleep.”

Completely ignoring his instruction, she pulled herself up on one arm. The blanket slipped off of her chest. She didn’t seem at all embarrassed, after whatever had happened the previous night, so he took the opportunity to look her over. He did eventually even raise his eyes to her face. Her lips were full and looked well kissed-–likely he himself deserved the credit for that. Her eyes, a very pleasant green, sparkled with amusement—perhaps related to how long it had taken his gaze to reach them. Drunk as he’d been last night, he’d had excellent taste. He was beginning to sorely regret his lack of memory.

She smirked slightly at his frank appreciation. “Where you headed so terribly early ?”

He scowled, remembering exactly why he hadn’t left. “Nowhere, without my clothes,” he said, putting an intimidating edge into his voice that cowed near everyone he used it on.

All it earned from her was a full-on grin. “Well in that case, might as well come back to bed, huh?” She patted the bed next to her.

Hook weighed his options. He didn’t remember any pressing appointments he had this morning. On the one hand, the wench had hidden his clothes—and his bloody hook . Bad form. And now she was using his apparent lack of options to keep him in her bed? No, he ought not reward this blatant manipulation. He should demand his possessions and go.

She raised an eyebrow, enticing. He should go.   In his current state of undress, there was no way of pretending disinterest. She was smiling as if she’d already won—she couldn’t be allowed the victory. But… it hardly seemed fair to have, presumably, so thoroughly pleasured this wench and not even get to remember it. He should, surely, be able to escape with a memory.

That was it. He fell onto the bed, onto her, to shake her self-assurance—to give her something that would make her miss him for the rest of her days.

_______

He understood his mistake by the time she was through. Having forgotten the previous night, he had supposed she was some woman he’d seduced. But no common woman–no noble one either–would’ve been capable of that . She could only have been a professional, at the peak of her trade. Like magic, she had known exactly what he wanted. It was as if she could read his mind, as if he’d told her exactly what he liked. She’d known his desires better than he’d known his own.

As they both lay panting, he tried to give her her due. “That was….”

She laughed, a bit breathlessly. “Worth waking up early for.”

It was now, he decided, well and truly time to take his leave.  If she’d taken his clothes, and whatever coin he had in his pockets, she'd certainly earned them. But one thing he did need. “Where the devil is my hook?”

Her brow furrowed slightly. “Is it not in the drawer?” She gestured vaguely toward a table by the bed, just next to him on the side he’d been sleeping. Seeing a drawer, he opened it experimentally. A box rested in it, a dark wood with ornate carvings. Picking it up, he saw that the designs included a ship at sea, flying a skull and crossbones. It opened easily to reveal his hook, fitting perfectly in a compartment on one side, with his brace resting on the other.

He stared for a long moment, tracing the design with his hand, and trying to make sense of its existence. “This is quite the contrivance, love.” He found himself wanting to keep it more than he was willing to admit. What need could she have of such a thing, anyway? He looked at her carefully. “Where did you come upon it?”

She laughed. “What, are you trying to get clues about this year’s? Good effort, but not going to happen. You’ll find out when you see it under the tree. No cheating!”

Not a word of what she’d just said seemed to have any relevance to his question, or any obvious meaning at all. This had to be intentional, and he wasn’t rising to the bait. He dropped the subject entirely. “Well, it’s been a pleasure, love. But I do need to be going, and I’m not sure what I’m expected to wear.”

She grimaced. “OK, so I definitely did the laundry, and I was absolutely planning to put it into the drawers… soon. I know, I know, where you’re from laundry was an all-day activity, and with washing machines it’s so easy. I know when it’s your turn it gets done immediately. But look, it’s all right here in this basket!” With this somewhat baffling sentiment, she gestured to a basket full of clothes. “Here, I’ll just get something for you today and then I’ll put away the rest… later.”

Smiling sheepishly, she pulled some garments out of the basket that looked remarkably like the ones he’d found on the floor. Oh well, at least these ones were clean.

The clothing was simple enough to figure out, but he was more interested to see what she’d put on. Women of every class looked about the same once you got them naked, but how someone dressed gave you a bit more information.Once he had pieced together how his own strange garments were assembled, he turned to her and was… stymied. She wore blue trousers of a material he did not recognize, a tight shirt and a strange short coat of what might have been leather, dyed a shade of red.

Now that the sun had come out, he looked around the room for more hints. The bedsheets, he recalled, had been extraordinarily soft, as was the carpet. He’d have guessed she was a woman of some means, although her expertise indicated how she might have made her money. But he hadn’t a clue what manner of woman dressed like that . He’d have liked to solve this mystery, but it was past time for him to leave. “Well,” he said finally, “it’s been a pleasure, but I really must take my leave of you, Miss…” he waited to see if she’d supply a name.

“Nuh-uh,” she said. “Not without breakfast. Just because Henry’s not here doesn’t mean we stop being good examples.” She gave him a wink, as if that was supposed to mean something to him.

He wanted out , but… after this morning and, presumably, last night, he certainly needed to replenish his strength. Well, if the woman wanted to make him breakfast, he supposed he could accept.

She leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek–he really did need to leave, before the woman started having expectations— and bounded downstairs.

Hook followed more slowly, taking a moment to look around. There were pictures on the walls. One in particular arrested him. A wedding. Hers. Unmistakeable. Somehow, he hadn’t gotten the sense of infidelity from her. It certainly wasn’t something he had a particular problem with, but he could usually tell. The portrait was… strange. He couldn’t see brushstrokes. It was almost like looking through a window. She looked so… happy, in the picture. Reluctantly, he moved his eyes to the side, to her husband. He looked quickly away again, as if burned, after just a glimpse of dark hair and a pathetically besotted smile. The poor bastard. He’d certainly seen it before, but something about the man’s face, even briefly seen, made it difficult to gloat.

Perhaps she was a widow? Somehow, that didn’t feel right. There’d been no grief about her. He thought back to their interactions. Just because Henry’s not here … No, that was certainly it. The husband was away, and the wife hopped into bed with the first dashing pirate she saw. He didn’t normally judge a woman for such a thing, but in that brief glimpse of the wedding picture he’d allowed himself, he’d had a moment of…sympathy? No… pity. He didn’t seem a sniveling coward keeping his treasure of a wife in a hovel, cursing her with his own reputation. The woman in the picture had glowed with joy. He wondered briefly what had gone wrong in their marriage to cause her to sneak around. A woman like that was probably difficult to satisfy.

He considered taking another look at the picture, but something deep inside of him rebelled.

He allowed himself brief glances at a few more pictures. The blonde woman and another man and woman, unmistakably a couple. The blonde woman and a dark-haired woman he instantly disliked–he didn’t look at her for too long. Something about her face hit him the wrong way. The two of them were hugging a boy. He looked at the child a bit longer, something striking a chord in him. Was the blonde woman the mother, or the brunette? Suddenly, thoughts of Baelfire entered his mind, until he forcibly shook them out. Forget breakfast–he needed to leave.

But between him and the front door was the woman, who’d set a place for him at the table, and the aroma of bacon and eggs was difficult to ignore. He wasn’t sure how the bacon was ready so fast—perhaps the cook had been working on it while they’d been upstairs. He hoped her servants were discreet, although this likely wasn’t the first time. They’d certainly made themselves scarce–he hadn’t seen a hint of a person in the house other than the two of them. Perhaps they were changing the sheets before the husband returned.

He glanced around the room. No pictures in here, at least. The setup was strange—in this room, there were large box-shaped objects all around, one of which she had just closed, and in the room he’d just walked through there appeared to be a small tree with baubles on it. He supposed that was how they set up their houses in… his mind stopped short, unable to recall which port he was in.

The woman was smiling at him expectantly. Without conscious consideration, he sat down at the table and lifted a fork.

“So,” she said, “what are your big plans today that you absolutely had to wake up for?”

His big plans, as she put it, involved leaving port as soon as possible, but he was reluctant to say so. This woman seemed to think she had some sort of right to his plans. She might take offense to the fact that he’d be gone forever before the sun set again. “Just… checking on things,” he evaded.

Her eyes widened with interest. “Things related to a certain… event… a week away?”

He frowned. What was a week away? He tried to calculate. If today was… he stopped short. What was the date, again? Worry began to set in in earnest. He looked away from the woman, trying to remember… remember…

“Okay, I get it,” she said, laughing. “No hints from me means no hints from you.”

The woman was very pretty, Hook decided, but at least half of what she said was nonsense. And something was nagging at him about what she’d said during this morning’s festivities…He’d been too preoccupied with the sensations to take any particular note of her words, but…

He ate the food she’d set in front of him with his mind elsewhere.

When he became aware that she’d been speaking, it was clearly not the first time she’d spoken. “Hellooo? Earth to Killian? We got an early start but I am actually going to be late if I don’t head out.”

“Right,” he said, trying to shake himself from his reverie. Late to what , he wondered idly, but that wasn’t quite what had bothered him. “I’d best head out myself.” Good, something about this place was getting to him. The sooner he was back on the Jolly, the better.

He stepped out the door before her, so she could lock up, and looked around the world. There was a strange sense of wrongness to everything. The houses looked… unusual. There were one or two people on the street in strange garb, more or less like what the blonde wore–like what he wore. And there was a large yellow… thing in the yard that–

Hook cursed loudly as something sped by faster than anything had any right to go.

“Hey! You ok, babe?” the blonde woman asked.

She seemed so completely unfazed that he was loath to admit to a moment’s fear. “Of course,” he lied. There was a tense moment where she considered whether to accept his answer. With as wide of a smile as he could muster, he said “Well. Goodbye, then.”

She hesitated a moment longer, and finally leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Walking away from him as he stood, a bit dazed, she called “Love you!” over her shoulder, and opened what turned out to be a door on the yellow monstrosity. He watched as it started to move, and before he knew it, the thing was out of sight.

After another moment of standing still, looking after her, wondering what she’d meant by “love,” he finally started to make his way in a direction he hoped was toward the docks, staying to the side where the surprisingly large, incredibly loud, remarkably fast abominations were not.

It was just as he caught sight of the sea–indeed in the direction his instincts had taken him, that he figured it out. What was strange about her words in bed, and her words to him when he’d been distracted this morning.

An hour later Emma was not fine. Those two contractions had ramped up and were now five minutes apart. Her back felt like it was going to split into two. She didn’t remember her back hurting this much with her last two. She tried walking around the house as she’d done during her last two pregnancies. But that seemed to only make things worse. Bouncing on her yoga ball didn’t help either. Emma was close to tears and very frustrated, and that’s when Killian texted her to look outside.

Emma went to the front of the house and saw nothing but white blanketing the street, while the sky had large heavy flakes gently falling. When did that happen? Obviously, when she’d been walking through the house trying to ease the labor pains. Another text made her phone vibrate in her pocket, and it was Killian again, telling her he may be late because he couldn’t drive home until the snow plows had cleared a path. Another painful contraction tore through Emma’s body. They had gotten progressively more painful. The contraction, along with the pain in her back, and now Killian telling her he may be late (not to mention the hormones), made her burst into tears. She knew it was time to call Killian.

The phone almost seemed like a foreign object in her hand as she pulled up her most recent phone conversations and tapped Killian’s name (with a little hook emoji next to it). 

He answered on the fourth ring, which annoyed her slightly. “Hello, love,” Killian answered, sounding slightly out of breath. “Leroy’s snow plow is stuck and we’re trying to dig it out,” he informed her, her annoyance slipping away. “Can I give you a call back in a few minutes?” He sounded distracted (which he was, he was digging out a snow plow), and Emma was almost tempted to say yes, when another contraction ripped through her. 

“I’m in labor!” She gritted out as quickly as she could while the contraction enveloped her stomach. A muffled thwump came from the other side and Emma was pretty sure Killian had dropped his phone into the snow. She could hear him cursing over the line as he tried to pick the phone back up. It would have been comical if the situation didn’t seem so dire.

“Emma, love, are you still there?” The concern in his voice came through loud and clear. He rattled off all the questions she knew he would ask. How long had the contractions been coming, how long were they lasting, had her water broken yet? She answered them the best she could, sobbing the entire time.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her tears subsiding slightly.

“Whatever for, darling?” He asked, sounding slightly distracted. She knew he was probably trying to get the snow plow out even faster than before.

“I should have called when the first contraction hit an hour ago. I just….I didn’t think it would come on this fast. And then the snow….” Emma began sobbing again. She had no control of her emotions at the moment.

“It’s fine, love.” Killian said comfortingly. “Your father is already on the phone with your mother letting her know the kids will be staying there for now, and I’ll call the hospital after this to let them know we’re coming in. Actually….” He trailed off, something he did when an idea he knew she probably wouldn’t like had come to mind.

“What, Killian?” Another contraction was ripping through her at the moment, she didn’t have time for his guessing games.

“Should I call Regina to poof you over to the hospital?” Emma paused to consider this as the pain in her body subsided. She knew she couldn’t use her magic, but there shouldn’t be any reason why Regina couldn’t use hers to help her get to the hospital.

“Yeah, that might be good.” Killian hung up the phone after telling her he loved her, then texted her to let her know Regina would be there immediately. Purple smoke immediately deposited a very put together Regina Mills into her living room

“Leave it to you to be as dramatic as ever with your child’s birth.” Regina snarked. Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes as Regina called her dramatic. She wanted to call Regina out about that, but another contraction hit and everything in Emma’s body screamed that this was different.

“Emma?” The slightly higher octave in Regina’s voice alerted Emma to the fact that she could tell something was different as well. Emma looked down to see water spreading out along their wood floors. Shit!

Another contraction slammed through her body without warning. It was sharper and more painful now that the cushion of amniotic fluid was gone. Regina immediately started to help her over to the couch, but the prospect of sitting down while having contractions seemed worse than the actual contractions themselves.

“Emma, I don’t think it’s safe for me to magic you to the hospital like this. But I can bring Killian here, if you’d like.” Being alone, even for a minute, terrified Emma to no end, but giving birth to his child without him terrified her even more, so she nodded yes. Regina poofed out of sight, leaving Emma to wander around the house, hoping to stave off the birth of this child before Regina returned with her husband in tow.

Two more contractions hit before Regina returned, not only with Killian, but with Zelena as well. Emma side-eyed Regina for bringing her sister.

“Darling,” Zelena began, “when I told your parents I’d been a midwife in the Enchanted Forest, I wasn’t lying. Except that it had been in Oz. I actually know how to care for a pregnant woman and help them birth their babies.” Emma gave a barely perceptible nod and then braced herself for another contraction that was coming on.

“May I?” Zelena asked, dousing her hands in sanitizer and putting her hands on Emma’s stomach before she could even answer. Emma could swear she heard Killian growl in the background. She reached out her hand for his and he took it. They both knew Zelena had reformed her ways since having Robin and losing her magic during the Black Fairy’s reign of terror, so she wasn’t a threat, but sometimes Killian fell back into old protective habits. Zelena felt her stomach until the contraction subsided and Emma let out the breath she’d been holding.

“Emma, darling, I think your baby is coming out posterior. Or what you might refer to as sunny side up. The back of their head is hitting your tailbone and that’s why you’re having back labor. You can still labor and have this baby normally, but it’s going to be much more painful and probably take longer than your last births, I can imagine.” Emma was not keen on the sound of that. She’d been lucky with both Hope and DL to have fairly easy labors. She was not at all prepared for a baby in a difficult position and to have it in her home.

“Walk around with her, Hook.” Zelena said, still using his old moniker and receiving a dirty look from him. Zelena smirked. “It will help the baby position itself better. Regina and I will prepare the bedroom for the birth. Maybe let her soak in a warm tub if she can deal with sitting.” 

The contractions were picking up now, even though Zelena had said she might be in for a long night. 

“Maybe a bath would be helpful?” Killian suggested. They had a jacuzzi tub so it was quite large and fit both of them comfortably. Emma could only nod. The pain was becoming unbearable. She needed something to help manage it if she couldn’t get drugs at the hospital.

Killian finished filling the tub and put in her cushioned bath seat that Emma used when she was luxuriating in the tub. He helped her get out of her sodden pants (she’d almost forgotten her water had broken not too long ago) and the linen shirt of Killian’s she’d taken to wearing. Then he brushed back her hair into a ponytail to keep it dry and out of her face.

The water felt wonderful on her back as she sat on the cushioned seat. The next contraction that hit felt muted with the warm water surrounding her. It may not have been an epidural, but it definitely helped to dull the pain. Emma became aware that it was just her and Killian now. She could faintly hear Regina and Zelena through the closed door, but right now, with the snowstorm raging outside, and she and Killian holed up in the bathroom, it felt like it was only them.

“This reminds me of how this little one was conceived.” Emma said breathing through another contraction (why hadn’t she thought of the bath earlier). Killian gave a salacious smile.

“You mean when you seduced me into having a ‘snow day’, and then we proceeded to not leave the bedroom until your mother came by with the kids?” 

“Yeah.” She said, not able to get many words out.

“Seeing you in my robe definitely does things to me, love.” Emma reached out to grab his hand and hook when another contraction hit. “Try not to break my hand this time.” Killian chuckled.

“It was only a finger.” She mumbled. He quirked his eyebrow in disagreement. Emma laughed, and then immediately started sobbing. Killian’s face fell, not sure how to help her.

“She’s in transition.” Zelena said from the doorway. “The baby should be here soon.” Killian nodded, dumbstruck by the abrupt change in his wife. Emma lifted her head with tears still streaming down her face. She felt as though she were suddenly in a fog and her vision had tunneled. Everything felt surreal. Having had epidurals before, she’d never really experienced the pain that had come along with labor. She’d felt slight bursts in her stomach and then pushed when the doctor had told her she was ready. This was a whole different ball game going on. 

“Come, Emma,” Killian said, towel now in his hand as he offered his hook, “Time to get out of the bath and meet this wee one.” Her husband’s voice always soothed her. Emma nodded in agreement, but needed help from Killian and Regina to get to her feet. The moment she was out of the bath the contractions seemed amplified. Her two helpers got her to the bed just in time for a huge jolt of pain to hit down below.

“Ah!” Emma screamed, the urge to push now overwhelming. It was the only thing her mind could focus on. PUSH!

“Emma!” She was suddenly aware that Zelena was screaming at her. “Don’t push unless you’re having a contraction, you could hurt yourself otherwise.” Emma scoffed at that. Pushing seemed like an involuntary action now. It was as natural as breathing. Another contraction hit and the pain that ripped through Emma’s back was excruciating.

“I can’t give birth like this!” She panted. “I feel like my back is going to break.” Killian brought a wet washcloth up to her brow. When had he gotten that?

“Try being on your hands and knees.” Zelena suggested. She helped her up from the sitting position and situated her. “Takes pressure off the back.” But when the next contraction hit, Emma’s arms and legs buckled under her from the pain.

“I can’t do it,” She moaned, rolling onto her side. That position felt good. “The baby’s going to have to stay in. It can’t come out.” Regina and Zelena smirked at Emma’s statement, while Killian just gave her a comforting smile and a small laugh.

“You know that can’t happen, love.” He pushed stray hairs that had escaped her ponytail from her forehead. “Just push when the contractions hit and our little one will be here before you know it.” Emma just shook her head and continued to cry as Killian looked on helplessly.

“This is completely normal.” Zelena said reassuredly. “And she’s never done it without the drugs so she’s never experienced the pain before.” She put her hands on Emma’s stomach again as Emma moaned at the pressure Zelena’s hands brought. She gave Emma a big smile. “Good news! I think this baby will be out in a few pushes.”

The prospect of meeting her child gave Emma new vigor, and the side position was really working for her. When the next contraction came she pushed with all her might. She could physically feel her baby moving downward. She almost couldn’t believe she’d missed this with Hope and DL (dammit, she was in labor and she was going to call her son whatever she wanted), but at the same time, she was glad she was never going to experience this again. The contraction subsided without the promised baby.

“You did so good, Emma.” Her husband whispered. “Just a few more and you’ll never have to do this again.” She felt the smile against her ear. She felt the next contraction gearing up. Emma pushed as though she’d never pushed before. The pain was almost blinding. A feral scream escaped her throat. There was no way she was going to survive this. It was too much. Too much. Too…

The sound of her baby crying alerted her to the fact that all the pain and pressure had ended. She looked up to see Zelena holding her baby with a proud smile on her face and Regina looking on in wonder.

Zelena wrapped the baby in one of the new blankets Killian had bought and handed the baby to an exhausted Emma as she adjusted herself to sitting up in a better position on the bed. She realized the bed was covered in towels so that her sheets wouldn’t be ruined (good call). Emma stared at the baby she was holding. She couldn’t believe they had a newborn again. Emma stroked the tufts of dark hair that barely covered the baby’s head.

“Emma,” Killian said in the same awestruck tone he had every time a child of theirs was born, “Do we have another lass or lad?” Emma laughed out loud, she hadn’t even thought to look, so used to having the doctor announce it at the hospital. It hadn’t even occurred to her that she didn’t know. She slowly unwrapped the blanket from the babe as if she were unwrapping a fragile present, then wrapped the baby back up to preserve the warmth.

“We have another lass.” She proclaimed. Killian gave her a huge smile before kissing her.

“Born at 12:01.” Zelena announced.

“Looks like the kids were right to worry about this baby coming on Christmas.” Killian said, stroking the soft skin of his new daughter.

“I’m sure they won’t mind once they meet her.” Emma said. She couldn’t take her eyes off the precious bundle in her arms. The baby opened her eyes and where Emma had expected to see blue eyes, she was surprised to see green staring back at her.

“Did you two have a name picked out?” Regina asked, breaking the bubble she and Killian had been in. They hadn’t. They had only agreed on Margaret as the middle name in honor of her mother. A memory stirred in the back of Emma’s mind.

“I knew a girl once, we were in middle school together. We had to do a name project, researching the history of our name and why our parents chose it, and whatnot. Which made me depressed, of course. I could look up the meaning of Emma, but I had no parents, so I couldn’t find out why I’d been named that. Anyways, there was a girl in the class named Natalie and her name meant Christmas Day, and I always thought that was kind of neat. It kind of goes with the theme of our kids' names being significant.” Hope’s name had been a no-brainer, with her middle name after Killian’s mother. Dylan’s name had associations with the sea, with his middle name being for Killian’s brother.

“Natalie Margaret Jones.” Killian said, getting a feel for the name on his tongue. “It’s perfect, love. Hello Natalie. I’m your Papa. And this wonderful woman here is your Mama.” Natalie yawned in response.

“It’s been a tough day for her.” Emma quipped.

Regina decided she didn’t need to stay anymore and poofed herself away, telling Zelena to text her when she was done. Zelena wanted to stay for a few more hours to ensure everything was in the range of normal. She called Emma’s doctor and informed her of the baby’s early arrival. Emma shot off a text to her parents letting them know about Natalie’s arrival and that they’d FaceTime tomorrow, and to let them know their presents from Santa had been delivered, even if they weren’t at the house (now that Natalie had been born, she planned on using her magic to wrap all the presents and put them under the tree for the children’s arrival).

Zelena finally left when Emma and Killian could barely keep their eyes open anymore, promising to come back the next morning to check on them. Emma had to admit, the prospect of sleeping in her own bed with no nurses coming in to check on her sounded amazing. Natalie had drifted off to sleep, completely sated from Emma’s breast. Neither she nor Killian could stop looking at Natalie’s little fingers and toes. 

“I guess there’s no going back now.” Killian whispered, careful not to wake their newborn daughter. Emma gave a small laugh which startled Natalie slightly, her hands coming to her face, then gently lowering down before settling down upon her chest. 

“Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday, sweet Natalie.” Emma said, rubbing her finger up and down the soft baby cheek.

‘Merry Christmas, love.” Killian said, giving Emma a kiss on her temple. “You’ve given me the greatest Christmas present ever.” He smiled before kissing his daughter on the top of her head.

“Merry Christmas, Killian.” 

Tag List: (Let me know if you want to be added or removed)

What could one expect, after all, from a princess that was once a bandit?

Emma wasn't the greatest fan of balls, much to her mother's chagrin, but they were a good place for her to get a feel for the attitudes of the Kingdom's people as well as of any visiting royal or dignitaries. This was also the reason the Crown Princess was currently in town, dressed in a basic tunic, trousers, and cloak to blend in with the local populace. Balls provided some insight into local attitudes, but she'd long ago found that the best place to get the pulse of the Kingdom was to visit a local tavern.

Today her destination was a tavern called the Snuggly Duckling. Located by the dock, it was a favorite of visiting merchants, sailors, and those who wished to separate them from their hard-earned coin. Though only midday the tavern was already bustling with people. Even so, Emma spotted August seated at a table in the corner, two mugs already in front of him. When she sat, August pushed one toward her and Emma drank it great fully. The tavern's owner brewed a surprisingly good ale that Emma was rather fond of.

August smirked at her as she drained hate the mug. "Hard trip?"

"You know how the town gets in the days leading up to one of my mother's balls. I was nearly run down by no less than three times."

August's brows furrowed. “Your mother's ball?"

"Yes, didn't you hear? My mother insists on holding a ball to celebrate my birthday." Emma would have preferred a hunt.

Now August frowned. “Emma, your mother isn't hosting the ball," he said slowly. "You are."

Emma let out a loud laugh, drawing the attention of the people around them. She waved them off as she replied, “That is absurd! Where did you get such an idea?"

"The invitation." August rummaged in his satchel for a moment before producing a folded and bent piece of paper, which he handed to her.

It read:

Her Royal Highness Emma Ruth Leona Eva Odette Nolan

invites you to a ball to celebrate

the 28th anniversary of her birth.

Every eligible bachelor is encouraged to attend.

"Papa and I received that weeks ago," August told her as she stared at the invitation.

Emma sighed. Somehow, she wasn't that surprised. Not even with the “all eligible bachelors" bit. After all, Emma was turning twenty-eight. It was almost unheard of for a Princess, much less the Heir to the throne, to remain unwed at such an age. She was lucky that her parents hadn't pressed the issue sooner, seemingly content to let their only child choose when, and who, she wanted to wed. However, her mother's patience must be beginning to wear thin and Emma knew Snow would view a ball as the perfect place for her daughter to meet her own True Love.

After all, not everyone could be so lucky to meet theirs while committing highway robbery.

"You really weren’t aware?” Her friend asked, incredulous.

She shook her head, grabbed her mug of ale, and finished it off. Other than helping compose the guest list, Emma tended to avoid all the other aspects of organizing balls. It wouldn't have taken much effort for her mother to conceal the invitations before they were sent out.

What impressed Emma, though, was that her mother, notoriously bad at keeping secrets, managed to avoid spilling the beans.

August cleared his throat. "There is more...”

"I'm going to need another round before you tell me anything else." Emma signaled the tavern keeper and soon had a fresh mug of ale to help her deal with whatever else her oldest friend was about to reveal.

"Rumor has it that you are to dance with every eligible bachelor in attendance."

She was to… what?

Emma's head dropped to the table with an audible thump.

Her mother's scheme was truly above and beyond anything Emma thought her capable of. She would need to remember not to underestimate her in the future.

With the ball only days away, it was far too late to cancel it altogether. Royals from neighboring and distant kingdoms would already be en route. And short of faking illness or injury, which Emma refused to do, neither August nor Emma could come-up with a plan to avoid her dancing with every eligible bachelor who sought one.

It seemed that Princess Emma Ruth Leona Eva Odette Nolan was hosting a ball after all.

~*~

The following morning, during breakfast with her parents, Emma surprised them by volunteering to oversee the decorating of the castle's Grand Hall where the ball was being held.

“As this is the first royal ball I am hosting, I want to be sure that everything is perfect," she told her parents, staring directly at her mother as she did so.

For a moment, the room was completely silent. That was until her father let out a boisterous laugh.

“I told you she would find out, Snow," he said to his wife, who flushed red in embarrassment.

"Yes, well...'' her mother murmured, glaring at her husband before turning to face her daughter. "I simply thought that a ball hosted by you would encourage a more diverse attendance and not just the same people we always see."

"Like all those eligible bachelors I'm supposed to dance with."

Snow turned an ever deeper shade of red, which amused Emma. She'd never seen her mother this embarrassed before.

Temped as she was to enjoy her mother’s discomfort, Emma continued, "Since it is too late to change anything, I'll go along with this inane plan on one condition. After tonight, allow me to find a suitor in my own way."

"But darling..."

Emma knew exactly what objection her mother was about to make, so she interrupted her, "I swear I'll make a real effort. Perhaps I could spend part of the summer visiting other kingdoms."

Her mother grinned. "A fantastic idea!" she exclaimed. "I know Aurora and Philip would love to have you, as will Ariel and Eric."

Finished with her breakfast, Emma left her parents, her mother happily reminiscing about her visits to various royal courts, and headed toward the Grand Hall. A short time later her father found her engaged in a tedious discussion about where the flower arrangements were to be placed once they arrived on the morning of.

After that was settled, he casually guided her to the side where they were out of the way of the bustling staff before he said, "I'm sorry about not telling you about your mother's plan. I tried to talk her out of it, but obviously I failed." He gestured to the activity before them.

Emma studied her father for a moment. Though she wished he would of given her some type of warning regarding her mother's machinations, she also knew that her father was utterly devoted to his wife and would do almost anything to see her happy. In the grand scheme of things, an unhappy wife would be much more unpleasant than an annoyed daughter.

"However," he father cleared his throat, "Are you sure the bargain you struck with your mother is a wise idea?"

“No," Emma replied, shaking her head. "I am sure I will still have to endure an endless string of visits from Prince such-and-such who just happens to be passing through if I fail to return with a suitor."

Not that Emma strictly needed to marry a Prince. That was expected, of course, but she knew her parents would be just as happy if she brought home a commoner. After all, King David was the son of a farmer. Not that many people knew that. To most, he was Prince James, David being his regnal name, son of the late King George.

The truth was David was the twin brother of James that had been separated shortly after birth by the machinations of an evil imp. James was secretly adopted by King George and his wife and raised in luxury. When his untimely death jeopardized a profitable deal with King Midas, her father was forced to assume the identity of the brother he hadn't known about. So the farmer became a Prince, married a Princess-slash-bandit, and together they became King and Queen of David's “Kingdom” after deposing King George.

So while the aristocracy would be upset if she brought home a suitor of non-noble birth, she knew her parents wouldn't care.

If she could find a suitor she actually liked that is. There were hundreds of men who would happily marry her given half a chance, but having grown up with parents who were True Loves, Emma wanted more than a marriage of convenience. Even if she never found True Love herself, was it too much to hope for a normal love with the man she would share her life, and Kingdom, with?

Her father must have sensed the direction her thoughts were taking and wrapped his arm around her. "You don't have to get married, you know."

Emma looked at her father with a raised brow.

"I'll admit, it will certainly make things easier if you do, but neither your mother nor I are going to force you to marry if you do not wish to," he explained.

That brought up a topic Emma had wondered about. “Who would inherit the crown if I never have children?"

Her father scratched his beard. “A distant cousin of George's, I imagine."

Her nose wrinkled. “I could always adopt.”

Or have a child out of wedlock and declare them heir regardless of legitimacy, but that would likely fracture the Kingdom.

Before Emma could continue contemplating other options, a footman approached her father and herself.

After giving them a quick bow, he informed them, "Your Majesty, Your Highness, the Queen of Arendelle and her entourage will be arriving shortly."

Emma let out a very unregal squeal and rushed from the Grand Hall. If there was one aspect of balls that Emma did enjoy, it was seeing the friends that lived some distance away. The Queen of Arendelle, Elsa, her younger sister Anna, and Anna's husband Kristoff were some of Emma's closest friends, despite the distance between the kingdoms. They regularly exchanged letters but only saw each other once or twice a year, usually at balls.

She arrived at the front gate just as the group from Arendelle began to cross the long bridge to the castle, Elsa riding in the lead. Riding just behind and to the Queen's left was a man Emma had never seen before but read all about, Captain Liam Jones.

As excited as she was to finally meet the suitor willing to put in the time and work to get to know Elsa and not be intimidated, she frowned as she noticed that she hadn't spotted either Anna or Kristof. That was until she remembered from a letter this summer that Anna was expecting her first child and it wouldn't surprise anyone if Anna, and by extension Kristof, decided against traveling at this time. Emma would miss them, though, since Anna tended to bring excitement to any event.

When the group came to a stop in front of the castle, Emma watched as Liam swiftly dismounted before assisting Elsa off her horse. The smile the normally shy Queen gave him made Emma grin. It was great to see her friend so happy.

King David and Queen Snow, who joined Emma at the castle gates a few minutes ago, walked forward and greeted their fellow monarch. "Queen Elsa, welcome."

"It is always my pleasure to visit your lovely Kingdom," Elsa replied. “May I introduce my betrothed, Captain Liam Jones.”

‘Betrothed?’ Emma mouthed at Elsa as the curly haired man stepped forward and bowed deeply to her parents. Elsa blushed and nodded.

When the formalities were finally complete, Emma ran forward and wrapped her friend in a hug. Still not accustomed to physical displays of affection, it took a moment for Elsa to relax and return the hug.

“Congratulations,” Emma whispered in her friend’s ear. Elsa hugged her tighter.

Once Elsa released her, Emma turned to Liam. Elsa’s fiancé wasn’t a tall man, only half-a-head taller than Emma herself. His brunette curls shone in the fall sun and he was shaved clean of any facial hair. Though he was currently dressed in a formal outfit of pale blue in the Arendellian style, Emma knew from Elsa’s letters that Liam was not originally from the country. She couldn’t recall Elsa mentioning where he was originally from, though.

According to Elsa, he’d joined the Arendelle navy some years ago and slowly worked his way up the ranks until becoming Captain of his own ship. Last summer, Elsa had sailed on his ship for a trip to Agrabah to negotiate the creation of a new sea-based trade route. Apparently, Elsa, prone to insomnia, had spent many nights in Liam’s company and slowly a romantic attraction developed. After returning to Arendelle, Liam sought Elsa’s permission to formally court her, even though it meant leaving his current post in the Navy.

It was easy to see that Liam adored Elsa. It was visible in his eyes every time he looked upon her, which he did often. Emma noticed as the group was escorted through the castle toward the guest wing that he always kept Elsa within sight if she were not next to him, though she often was.

It sent a pang through Emma’s heart and made her realize that she wanted what the two of them had. She told herself that she would put a serious effort into finding a suitor during her travels next summer.

Maybe she would ask Elsa if Captain Jones had a brother.

TBC