Of all the things that Emma could get fixated on, names are probably the least consequential.

There are million other tiny details that they have to get settled before the baby gets here and she only hit the twelve week mark three days ago. They don't even know if it's a boy or a girl. Half of any list they make will be useless in a few weeks, but that didn't stop Emma from stopping at the library on the way home from the station last night and checking out three baby name books.

Belle just smiled and asked, "So you're telling people now?"

Emma shrugged. It didn't really matter to her. They told the most important people in their lives weeks ago. Her parents. Henry. Regina and Robin. "We're not planning any big announcement or anything, but yeah."

So here they were, curled up together on the couch, a book in each of their laps, trying to figure out what they would name their child. Emma felt like she was studying for some sort of test. A multiple choice test where you had to pick the right answer from millions of possibilities. It was probably just the pregnancy hormones messing with her brain, but this was the choice that she was terrified of getting wrong.

A name was forever.

"You know, love," Killian reminded her for the fifth time that morning, "we don't have to decide anything today. We have time."

"I know," Emma said. But she wanted—needed—to do this now. "But who knows how long it'll take us to actually agree?"

Killian rolled his eyes, going back to his book and leafing idly through the pages for a name that caught his attention. "What do you think of Leia?" he asked. He kept a straight face, but couldn't help glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

"We are not naming a daughter after a Star Wars character," Emma said, shoving his knee with her foot. "Or as a joke. Take this seriously, Killian." And just to make sure he got the point, she stuck her tongue out at him. This was...beyond wonderful. Having this, with him, to be talking about baby names and nursery colors and how to ask Henry if he minded moving to the third floor. Having a partner and a second chance at all the things she had missed with Henry.

Killian smirked at her and went back to turning pages, looking for the next ridiculous name.

Emma glanced back down at her book, staring at the name she'd come across five minutes ago.

She took a deep breath. "What about family names?" she asked.

"What about them?"

"Well, my parents' names are obviously out," she said.

They're family was already confusing enough without shared first names. Maybe if she'd been in a normal family and her parents were actually older than she was, maybe then, but using one of their names seemed—too fatalisitc?

"And likewise with your dad's name."

Killian snorted. "Aye, that's for certain. That would be the poorest parental choice since Harry Potter saddled his son with Albus Severus."

Emma bit back a smile. "Harry Potter isn't real, Killian."

"Snow White and Prince Charming aren't supposed to be either." Killian winked at her. "How do you know this Rowling woman isn't just another author like your boy?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "I should never have let Henry introduce you to those movies."

"But, now that you mention it," Killian said, his grin widening. "What do you say to putting Hermione on the list?" He flourished the pen, beginning to write under the empty column labeled "Girl".

"What about Liam?"

Killian's eyes flashed up to hers.

"We don't have to," Emma hurried to add. "If that's too much." She flipped to the next page quickly, eyes scanning for something—anything else to move on from this moment. She guessed wrong. It happened with pasts like theirs, there were a hundred toes to step on. You just dealt with it and moved on.

Killian's hand covered hers. "You truly wouldn't mind?" he asked.

"It's a good name," she said.

He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. "I love you."

"Hmm, I love you too."

Killian wrote Liam David Jones across the page and underlined it. "See now, that wasn't so hard."

"Killian..."

"If we're going to stick my family in there, we'd better put a bit of yours in as well," he said. "Now, half the work is done." Killian turned a few more pages, eyes scanning the page with far more fervor than a few minutes before. A permanent smirk dimpled his cheek.

Despite the fact that they were already sitting next to each other, her knee propped against his thigh, Emma didn't feel like that was enough. This was a moment she wanted to hold onto. One she never thought she'd get when she was a girl. One she thought she screwed up completely as a teenager. One she thought she lost as a woman. She leaned into him, her cheek against his shoulder as she looked at the book of names in his lap.

"What about your mom?" she asked softly. "What was her name?"

In all their time together, Killian hadn't said much about his mother. Emma never pushed. She understood there were some things you didn't talk about because you couldn't. She knew something had happened, but until now, she'd avoided the subject. Because they were making a future, not fixing the past. (The longer she was with Killian, the less she wanted to fix the past. She wouldn't want to risk changing what she had right now.)

Killian held his breath for a moment. "Siobhan," he said. "Her name was Siobhan."

Emma didn't say anything and the name hung in the air before them.

Carefully, slowly, Killian reached out and wrote Siobhan in curling, tiny letters, a little below where he'd written 'Liam'. He spelled it differently than she expected—Emma didn't know what she expected—but she saw the name and this was her. This was the woman that had named her sons Liam and Killian. Seeing her name on the paper, Emma felt she knew her a little better.

"What about Siobhan Margaret?" she asked. "It sounds like it could work, doesn't it?"

KIllian nodded, writing the rest of the name.

And as he finished the last curl on the 's' in 'Jones', something in Emma clicked, just the way that something had clicked that day at the diner when Killian admitted to trading his ship to find her. The click of broken pieces finally coming together.

Emma caught her breath.

"Swan?" Killian asked. He rarely called her that in private anymore, not unless he was angry or concerned. The soft edge in his voice spoke of the latter emotion. His hand squeezed hers and she knew he hadn't missed how much importance she put on this one simple task. . "It's just a name, Emma, we don't—"

"That's her," Emma said, her voice a little breathy. Because wow, this was happening and this was real and she didn't know how she knew, but she knew.

She looked up at him, into his slightly puzzled blue eyes. Eyes she's suddenly very sure their daughter will have. At least, she hopes her daughter will have those eyes. "That's our daughter."

"Yeah?" he asked, eyebrows winging up.

"Yeah," she said.

And this face was her favorite face. Absolutely awestruck. Everything, every inch of bravado and teasing and all of the walls that protected him stripped away, so all she could see was Killian. Her Killian.

Her true love.

Her future.

Her right now.

He kissed her again, a deep, slow kiss and the books end thud onto the floor as Emma climbed into his lap, leaning into him. For a few minutes, they get lost in each other.

"We should probably wait to tell everyone," she said, "just in case I'm wrong."

Killian grinned at her. "And when are you ever wrong?"

She kissed him again. "I was wrong about you being wrong about you."

"To be fair, I didn't start out with the noblest of intentions."

"Still, I'm really glad you convinced me not to let the ogre eat you."

"Aye, I'm rather proud of that one myself."

# # #

Six weeks later, Emma pins the latest ultrasound on the fridge, the words Siobhan Margaret Jones in neat block letters across the top.

So, I figured we needed some fluff after this week's episode. Here ya go.

Oh, and in case you're wondering Siobhan is pronounced "shih-vawn".