A/n: I've wanted to read one of these forever so I went ahead and wrote it myself. ;) Rated T for slight language (just one word). Short and sweet. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think. :)

He didn't know how he'd gotten into this situation.

He'd never had to do this before – wasn't this his father's job? Or perhaps his mothers'? At the very least, it was to be passed to his grandfather before it got to him, wasn't it?

It wasn't that he minded so much as he didn't have a damned clue how to go about doing it (not without inciting the wrath of his mothers), and now he was fumbling over his words, sounding like a bumbling fool while Henry looked at him like he'd suddenly gone mad in a matter of seconds.

Gods, but he saw Emma in the child when he looked at him like he had no idea what he was talking about – he wasn't sure if that was a bad thing or a good thing.

"So, you see, my boy…" he went on, using his best fatherly tone (he wasn't sure if he had one, actually, but he used what he assumed was one). "Once the mainsail has been… hoisted, so to speak, a man is rather urgently inclined to… shall we say - dock into the nearest port, and-"

"Wait, what?" Henry's brows furrowed and he frowned, his patience wearing thin as the fifth nautical term of the day rolled off the pirate's tongue. "What have you even been talking about? I thought when you hoisted the mainsail, it meant that you were leaving the docks? And what does this have to do with where babies come from?"

"We're not actually talking about ships, Lad. Gods, I'm doing the best I bloody well can," he grumbled, struggling to find the words to make this less awkward, but about half a second away from putting it rather bluntly -"your cock goes between a woman's legs and that's how a child is made, now if you'll excuse me, lad…" He tipped his head back with a sigh and looked up into the sky for a moment, a silent prayer, then slowly fixed his gaze back down at Henry.

It was possible that nautical euphemisms weren't going to work quite as well as he had originally hoped.

Henry eyed him sympathetically and shrugged with a hint of a smile. "… It's okay if you don't know…"

"I know where children bloody come from!" Hook could feel himself growing red – though he wasn't sure why. He would not be bested by Swan's child – he had to show her that he could be trusted with Henry, even with this. If he ruined this, who knows what she'd think of his… abilities as a father figure?

Henry deadpanned, giving him an 'are you kidding me?' look and bloody hell, he did look like Emma when he did that.

"Then why are you talking about The Jolly Roger?"

"B-because- you're not making this easy."

"I don't get what's so hard about it, I just asked where babies come from," he shrugged, then took a deep breath. "Okay, fine, so the what was the mainsail again?"

"The sail is a euphemism."

"For what?"

"For what's in your bloody trousers, boy," he smirked, attempting a new tactic and raising his eyebrows suggestively, sobering and shaking his head when he was met with a blank stare. His mind wandered back to his slightly more candid version of the lesson, the temptation growing as awkward seconds passed.

"My legs?"

Hook's mouth opened then shut, bobbing like a bloody fish for air until his mouth curved into a defeated – yet amused – grin. "Perhaps, you'd be better off asking Dave about this, aye?"

"That's okay, I think I've got it, Captain."

"What's that?"

Henry shrugged, smiling. "We had sex ed in school last week. I just wanted to see what you'd say. I already did it to Dad and Ruby."

Hook was speechless as he watched the boy nonchalantly swing his backpack over his shoulder.

He'd make a pirate of him yet; that boy had the poker face of a champion.

The cheeky little bastard.

"Yours was the best though," Henry added over his shoulder, flashing him a wide grin before trotting down the steps.

Hook chuckled once he was gone, an odd and likely misplaced sense of pride swelling in his chest as he watched Henry trudge down the dock, turning once to smile and wave before disappearing in the direction of Emma's.

He liked his best, did he?