A/N: so some of my favourite writers started doing this Neverland Renaissance thing on tumblr and I though, well, why not join in since I absolutely LOVE 3A. This what came of it. Missing scene/Canon divergence set after Dark Hollow. And of course, being me I had to end it in a hopeful tone to counteract all the angst. I hope you enjoy!

We might kiss when we are alone,
When nobody's watching,
We might take it home
We might make out when nobody's there,
It's not that we're scared,
It's just that it's delicate

Only a few steps away from their camp and she found him sitting against a log, rum flask in hand, archetypal brooding-pirate look on his eyes, and something else there, too – something she refused to name hurt no matter how loud the voice inside her mind screamed that that was exactly it.

And the worst was, she knew she was the one who had put it there.

If I had to choose someone, I'd choose Henry.

He's the only love I have room for in my life.

Regardless of how many ridiculously open (and vulnerable, he always seemed to willingly make himself so damn vulnerable for her) declarations of his devotion and faith in her - in them - she knew better than to do something as crazy as believing him, or giving any credit to the warmth she felt blooming within her rib cage every time he looked at her like that for that matter.

She was nothing but another conquest to him, something unattainable, just another challenge he so enjoys to pursue and would probably toss aside once he got his fill of her.

(Lies, lies, lies, the same nagging voice retorted in her mind.)

(Only that she knew it was far too dangerous for her heart to let herself trust her instincts on that one.)

But, deny what him as much as she would, something had definitely shifted in her at the sight of him backed against a tree, or whatever it was in that dismally dark Dark Hollow, his essence being ripped out of his body. From that moment on she had had no thoughts other than keeping him safe. She didn't register Neal shouting somewhere to her left; didn't register the number of shadows lurking around, looking for an opportunity to go at her next – hell, she didn't even think of Henry or her parents in that moment. Her mind was save him, her reflex movements were save him, her heart – yes, her heart – was all about saving him.

Emma knew what she had to do then, Rumple's words ringing clear in her mind going on about how magic is emotion, how you must ask yourself why am I doing this, who am I protecting.

(She found the answers to those particular questions uncomfortably fast.)

Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes and let her mind wander through all of their moments together, the familiar scenes replaying in her mind like a movie in fast forward as emotions were swelling and ebbing inside her like the tides.

At one point it all became too much, the feelings she had always known were buried deep inside her magnified to something so big, so all-encompassing that she felt fear claw its way up her throat again. Oh, but she would be damned if her aggressive denial of everything related to him and her self-preservation instincts would stop her from saving his ass.

And so, for the first time ever since she found him under a pile of corpses lying through his teeth, Emma pulled the cork from the proverbial bottle she kept her feelings for him in and let them wash over her. And just like magic her powers came to life instantly and lighted Neal's coconut, trapping Pan's shadow and finally saving hi– their lives, she did it to save all of their lives.

Of course after all that hassle – after snapping at him and Neal when they finally left that awful place – after seeing his face crumple with the harshness of her tone then, with the biting truth in her words – of course she couldn't shut her eyes and get some rest like she damn well deserved.

There was really no point in telling herself she had accidentally gone to the small opening where she knew he always kept watch, so Emma opted for swallowing down any words she might have wanted to tell him (a bunch of nonsense along the lines of I just watched you nearly die and I was terrified of losing you) and just sitting next to him.

"Isn't there a rule or something against drinking and keeping watch?"

"Not any I'm aware of, love."

It wasn't the shortness of his reply or even the abrasive tone in his words as much as the way he refused to look at her, apparently finding something infinitely more interesting in the pattern of the leaves scattered around his feet.

It stung, and it stung even more because part of her always knew this day would come, the day he would simply have enough of her kicking him away at his every attempt to get closer to her and simply give up on whatever game he was playing. But surely if she knew this would happen all along - if she had always known it was only some sort of game to him, it shouldn't hurt half as much as it was hurting her. It really shouldn't but oh, it did. And how it did.

He rubbed the heel of his palm against his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh at her unusual silence. "Why, if I may ask, have you decided to grace me with your presence, Swan? Your watch isn't for another hour or so."

"I couldn't sleep."

"Hmm."

And that was about as much as she could take.

"Seriously? You're going to be like this now?"

Another one of his annoyed sighs came out followed by his telltale sign of irritation, the jaw clench. "Like what, Swan?"

"Like… like this," she said in a higher pitch than intended, waving her arms at him in frustration. She probably looked like a sleep-deprived maniac but she couldn't say she cared when he was acting like that. "You're not even looking at me, you barely said a word to me since this afternoon. You didn't even offer me your rum - that's a first." Her eyes were rolling upwards before she could stop herself.

"Well, if you came here only looking for a drink, love, I wonder why you haven't said so before. I never knew you to mince your words. All you had to do was ask." He finally looked up to her then, offering his flask with a petulant raise of that ridiculous eyebrow of his. The fact that his tone was so calm and composed after witnessing the little scene she was making only made him that much more infuriating. "But I've a feeling that's not really what brought you here now, is it?"

Taking a long pull of his rum, she handed it back while wiping at her mouth with the back of her free hand. "You're right. I wanted to talk to you. You've been different, more distant… and you've been in that brooding mood since we got back from Dark Hollow. Want to tell me what's wrong?"

"Ah, I see." Killian's chuckle was dry and mirthless as he tucked his flask inside his coat and pushed himself up from the floor. "You needn't worry about it, Swan. I got the message, there's no need for you to come all the way here to reiterate it. You've made yourself quite clear."

Even she could tell he was biting his tongue against adding the usual endearment at the end of his sentences.

(She realised with startling clarity just how much the lack of that one word he used to address her with stung, too.)

"Is that what this is all about?"

Emma was suddenly up on her feet and hurrying to stand right in front of him, deliberately blocking his way before he went back to camp. Oh no, he was not running away from an important conversation, she was the one who did that in their relationship. Not that- not that they were in a relationship, or anything even remotely like that- oh hell. "Because of what I said about…" She trailed off, unable to repeat her words after seeing just how deep they had hit him.

"About not having room in your life for any love other than Henry? Yes, that would be quite right, Swan."

Decidedly giving up his tactic of not meeting her gaze, he went for the exact opposite of that, using those all-seeing blue eyes of his to bore a hole in her skull and try to read every single one of her thoughts like he always made a habit of doing.

Her arms crossed over her chest defensively and words were spilling out of her lips before her brain had the time to process any of it.

"I told you I'm not interested in any sort of relationship a million times before and it never had this effect on you. Well, it never seemed to have any effect at all on you. What makes it so different now?"

"The fact that you meant it this time, Emma." He tilted his head slightly and she felt her heart going to the point of shattering into a million pieces at the hurt and the pain she found in his gaze. "And you didn't just mean while we haven't rescued Henry yet."

Closing her eyes, she let her arms fall back to her sides with a deep exhale. When she opened them again, the striking contrast between the defeat and resignation currently etched into his face and the confidence with which he had told her he would win her heart before were too much to bear. Her heart ached for him. She was suddenly filled with this unbidden urge to wrap her arms around his neck and hold him until he forgot every single one of her words from before, and it terrified her to realise how much she wanted to do just that.

"So that's it? You're just going to take my words to heart and avoid me until you can leave and disappear at the first chance you get? Is that what your new plan is? Because I…" She swallowed hard, not trusting her own voice to keep from breaking. "I thought you told me you were going to win my heart eventually," she added in an almost whisper, something so quiet and delicate she wasn't sure he caught it, at least not until she looked up from their feet and met his eyes, a heartbreaking frown hovering above them.

"Aye, I know I could win your heart, Emma. I know we can have a chance together. But I'm not sure I'm willing to pressure you into something you're fighting so strongly against even after everything we've been through."

His lips were pressed together tightly in a thin life and Emma could tell there was a lot more he wanted to say but wouldn't only for her sake, knowing her all too well and certainly foreseeing she would flee the second he said too much about his feelings. But it was the way he refused to break contact from her eyes that was nearly making her knees give in. Those two blue gems truly seemed like the proverbial windows to his soul, and it both warmed and scared her out of her wits to see how much faith he had in them, in their future together - even when she didn't seem to have any.

"What you said earlier simply made me think that perhaps I should be respecting your wishes rather than pursuing my own, while selfishly believing yours were the same when perhaps they're the very opposite."

"Killian…" His name fell from her lips like a sigh and it was all she could do to avert her gaze and try to keep her struggling tears from spilling over. She would not let him see her cry, much less if he was the very reason for it. Her emotional turmoil of a brain decided anger seemed like the most attractive course to follow.

She knew it was a coward move, but in these sort of situations Emma was a master at going down the angry path instead of treading the unknown territory of being vulnerable and open – especially with him.

"Then you lied to me. You said you could read me like an open book, but clearly that's not true or you would know better – you should know better than that, Killian," she admonished him, jabbing her finger in his chest punctuating each of her last words.

He grabbed her wrist in mid-air and prevented her from trying to puncture his chest with her index finger by splaying her palm flat against his heart, holding his hand over hers to keep it there.

"I would never lie to you, Emma - not then, not now, nor ever," he said,anger flaring behind his own eyes because she dared to doubt him on the one thing her superpower should have told her all along.

(It had. She had only been too stubborn to listen to it when it came to believing certain things he said.)

"And I do know better than that. Indeed, you've always been an open book to me, which is exactly how I could see that part of you did mean those words you said. Quite a significant part, actually," he added in that subdued voice again.

She couldn't even deny it, there was a great part of her that was too scared of getting heartbroken and left alone again to even want Killian to try to win her heart. The problem was, at some point between their kiss and having Neal join their rescue party, he had started underestimating the increasing part of her that did want him to succeed, that wanted it more than anything.

The part of her that wanted to believe his feelings were as real as the adoring looks he would shoot her when he was proud of her; the part that wanted to imagine them going back to Storybrooke side by side with Henry safe and having him stick around for a while (dare she even conjure up the word forever in her mind?); the part that wanted him to continue his innuendo-filled courtship of her until he finally, finally won her heart – that part wouldn't be silent now, and it sure as hell wouldn't let her let him give up on her, not when that was the last thing she wanted if she was being honest with herself for a change.

Tonight had already proven how inarticulate Emma Swan could be when she needed words the most, so action it was. Keeping her hand firmly on his chest and bringing her other arm around his neck, she pulled him down until his lips met hers with the same force and momentum of their first kiss. This time though, after his initial shock was quickly over, his response was completely different.

Instead of following her lead and kissing her back with enough passion and urgency to match hers, his left arm darted to her lower back and pulled her closer until their bodies were connected from thigh to torso, allowing her to melt against his chest as his hand wound its way through her hair to cradle to back of neck. He took control of the kiss, tilting her head this and that way so he could cherish her lips rather than devour her whole. His tongue stroked hers and explored her mouth in a languid dance, as if he had not a care in the world besides worshiping her with his lips as much as she would allow him. When her hands let go of his shirt to scratch lightly at the nape of his neck, he gave her a moment to catch her breath as he proceeded to leave a trail of kisses along her cheeks and neck, nipping lightly at her jaw every now and then, before his hand left her hair to cup her cheek and he captured her lips again.

As they both came up for air eventually, he relished in the way she chased after his lips when he pulled back, eyes fluttering open to reveal two shiny and slightly red-rimmed jades, her lips red and kiss-swollen, her skin glowing in all her flushed glory, her hair a tangled mess of curls from his ministrations.

As soon as her vision became less blurry and he came into focus again, she was stunned to see the beautiful contrast between the smug smile stretching his lips and the softest look she's ever seen on his eyes.

"I thought you said that was a one-time thing, love."

Willing her heart to regain some semblance of a normal pace - she was sure he could hear the loud thudding in her chest given how loud her pulse sounded in her own ears – she decided there was no point in denying the blatant meaning behind their second kiss like she attempted to do with their first. Definitely not after all that transpired between them since then.

She took two steps back from a still panting pirate and offered him her best teasing look and a noncommittal shrug, or at least what she hoped looked noncommittal enough that he would understand her message. She still needed a little time and space to come to terms with her own feelings for him, but that in no way meant she wanted him to give up on her - on them.

"I thought you knew better than believing everything I say."