Emma finds him on the docks three minutes after midnight, a cool, ocean breeze tousling his hair. The same wind stirs the dark water into small waves and eddies that slap against the wooden dock.

"It's late for sea gazing," she says neutrally, allowing her arm to slip through his with the easy affection they've finally found. His hook is cool against her waist through the fabric of her top.

He's silent for so long that she doesn't think he'll answer, before, finally, "How about star gazing?"

"I've never really taken the time. They always–stars always made me feel small. Sad." She admits. She turns her face into Killian's shoulder; the night is cooler than May warrants and his leather jacket has a familiar, comforting warmth.

"They make me think about home. Liam taught me to navigate by the stars when I was but a lad."

"Oh? Are they the same, here, as in the Enchanted Forest?"

"What's here is also there," he says slowly, "but there are more stars there. Whole constellations this world is missing."

"Tell me about one," she commands, and then frames his answer with her lips even as he says it–as you wish.

He raises his arm and she follows the line of his finger past the dark ruby that glints below his knuckle. "Up there, between the Great Bear and Leo; there's a constellation in our world that, from wherever you sail, will lead you home to the port you left. I don't understand the magic of it, but I believe it had something to do with fairies."

She smiles, delighted. "I can see why you like them," she says. "What's it called?"

He bends to press a kiss to the back of her ear. "The Swan."