Red Sky at Night
"Red sky at night," Emma said as she walked up behind the bench Killian was sitting on. She knew she'd find him down at the docks – his favorite place to brood. At some point it had become hers as well.
"Sailor's delight." He looked over his shoulder and gave her a crooked grin. "You know that saying, love?"
"We have it here, too," Emma said as she sat down next to him. "What's the rest? Red sky at dawn …"
"Sailors be warned."
She looked up at the dark canvas of the sky, dotted with countless stars. She picked out the one constellation she knew – Orion – and she made a mental not to ask Killian to show her the rest, though they were probably different in the lands he'd sailed before. Perhaps they could discover them together. "The moon looks unreal, it's so large," she said in awe, marveling at the full moon, tinted an eerie, yet beautiful red.
"The perfect night to take to the open sea. Let loose the sails, trust the wind take you where she may."
"You miss it." She leaned in, her shoulder against his, soaking in the warmth that radiated off him.
"Part of me does, aye."
"And the other part?"
He took her hand, palm up, tracing the lines with his thumb. "I don't miss the loneliness. Nights where all you have are your thoughts and the darkness and the silence."
"Crew full of men hardly seems alone."
"I could count on one hand …" He raised an eyebrow, knowing those kinds of comments always got a rise out of her and she rolled her eyes before he continued. "The number of men I could truly call friend."
"Things are different here?"
"Well, I need two hands now to count those I would consider mates, but seeing as how I'm sadly lacking in that department …" He twisted the hook, the moonlight glinting off it.
"That's not funny."
He shrugged.
"So not so lonely?" she asked.
"Not so lonely."
"Does that mean you're staying?" Suddenly, Emma couldn't imagine Storybrooke without him. A few days ago, she was ready to leave everyone behind and drag her son off to New York for a life without magic, knowing she would be breaking hearts and tearing apart the tenuous connections that had formed. And now she was terrified this man was going to do the exact same thing she'd threatened to do to him.
"Nights like this," Killian said with a sweep of his hook, "with the sea beckoning … it's not hard to imagine the wheel under my hand as I steer the Jolly to a distant realm, leaving your Storybrooke behind."
Not the answer she wanted to hear. She pulled her hand from his, bracing it against the bench, her eyes straight ahead, on the sea, on his freedom. "What's stopping you?"
He reached out and took her chin in his hand, turning her to face him and the mixture of sadness and longing in his gaze made her breath catch in her throat. "No Jolly Roger, love, you know that. Plus, I'm feeling quite anchored to this land."
She tilted her head. "You are?"
He brushed a curl off her shoulder with his hook, letting it glide across the curved metal. "I am."
"You know, we could always get the Jolly Roger back."
He raised an eyebrow and winked. "Fancy another adventure, Swan?"
"It's your ship. Your home."
"You're my home now."
She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something. He could see her brain working, trying to deflect his affection. He liked to think she was having a tougher time of it lately – pretending she didn't care about him.
"Hoping you'll grace another page in Henry's book?" he asked, changing the subject to let her off the hook, so to speak.
"You gave up your ship to save my family. The least I can do is help you get it back. And if there happens to be a teeny tiny adventure involved …"
"Then so be it?" he finished for her. "Pirate, Swan – it's in your blood. If Regina's curse hadn't pulled you away from your family, you would have been that princess that rebelled and found herself in a world of trouble, rescued by yours truly. We would have ruled the seas."
"You seem very sure of yourself."
"Henry isn't the only one with a great love of stories. I had three hundred years to read about dashing rapscallions and their damsels in distress. Princesses. Pirates. It's fate."
Emma stared at him, torn between kissing him and rolling her eyes and shoving him off the bench. She decided on neither, but kept both options open.
"So this adventure, how does it begin?" she asked, half-seriously.
"We require a magic bean."
"Or Jefferson's hat …" Emma said, but then she remembered. "Jefferson's hat that was crushed when Mary Margaret and I traveled through it." She couldn't blame herself for forgetting – that first trip to the Enchanted Forest had been a lifetime ago.
"We'll figure it out," Killian said, taking her hand again, lacing his fingers with hers.
"So sure of yourself?"
"No, love - so sure of you."
Biting her lip, she looked up. A light streaked across the sky – a one in a million chance that she would look at just the right moment. "Falling star."
"Supposed to make a wish, aren't you?"
"Maybe I'm through making wishes. Maybe what I want is right here." Emma turned completely, her knee brushing his. She put her hand on the back of his head, her fingers digging into his hair as she pulled him closer. Her breath mingled with his and she closed her eyes.
"Aye, but one little wish couldn't hurt," Killian whispered just as his lips touched hers.
A pulse of energy flared between them, sizzling through Emma like she'd touched a live wire.
"Whoah," she said when they pulled apart. She opened her eyes slowly, confused, aroused, flushed – all at once.
It took her a few seconds to realize things weren't quite like they were only moments before. The sun was shining and people in strange clothes were everywhere, bustling about, totally ignoring the couple on the bench. They were still by the sea, but it didn't take a genius to realize it wasn't the same one they'd been sitting by a minute ago. The ships were different, wooden, sails unfurled. Shouts and laughter rang out around them.
"Killian, what exactly did you wish for before we kissed?" she asked.
"Um …" he started, rubbing his hand up his neck and then scratching his ear.
She was about to knock him off the bench when she saw it on the horizon. There was no mistaking its silhouette as it turned, apparently heading their way to make port.
The Jolly Roger. In all it's glory.
"Oh, no," she said as Killian pulled her to her feet. "Not again."
Killian gave her a blinding smile. "Come on, love, time to get my ship back."