“Funny thing, love. I’ve been giving some thought to that bit of subterfuge we performed in the past. More precisely, I was marveling at how quickly and convincingly you discharged your task of keeping my past self occupied.” He took his chin in his hand and stroked his lip in thought. “Bringing him back to my ship? One might surmise that you wanted to act on some secret desire to, ah, despoil a certain dashing swashbuckler with no recourse.”

Emma took a steadying breath. “That’s ridiculous. I was just doing what you asked me to do. It’s not my fault he wouldn’t stay put.” She stepped sideways, putting the lantern on a table.

He peeled away from the wall and began to slowly close the distance between them. “As you well know - Emma - all actions have…recourse.’”

“Killian, you know I wasn’t actually going to-“

“Bed me? Aye. That you say, now. I can’t help but wonder, though, if you would have done the same were you with another captain? Had it been Blackbeard, say, would you have gone back to his quarters?"

He met her at the stairs, not touching her, but…so close. "I think you wanted to court danger with a version of me that wasn’t asking for any attachments. That you wanted to-” he cocked his head to one side, speaking in a soft staccato, enunciating each word in his soft English lilt, “-see how far you could go.”

Emma held her own, even though her insides were on fire. “It was just for the mission. For my parents. And, I guess, for me.”

At this he laughed out loud. “Yes. Tell yourself that. Emma.”

“Besides, you said yourself. He- you don’t remember. So, what’s the harm?”