She was a marshmallow. 3 sweaters, two pairs of pants, a pair of thick socks, and the fuzziest boots she'd ever seen – purchased in New York during the year with false memories – formed the base, with four plush blankets as the outer coating. But even within her burrito of warmth, she could still feel the biting cold, as sharp as a knife, deep within her bones. More memory than actual feeling, but she knew this wouldn't be a sensation easily forgotten. Not when it just as easily could have been the last thing she ever felt.

A mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon appeared over her shoulder. As she attempted to free her hands from the blanket burrito, wondering if she might be able to feel her fingers again, a pair of gloves appeared over her other shoulder, dangling from a silver hook.

"You read my mind," she said as she finally located the opening at the top of the pile of blankets, grasping the gloves and slipping her still-trembling fingers inside before taking the mug and sipping from it slowly. She could feel the shift from cold to warmth immediately, the change from unknown to familiar.

"Warm enough, love?" he asked, the attempt at a teasing smirk battling with the look of concern etched into his blue eyes. "Ah, I'd almost forgotten…" he trailed off before she had the chance to answer as he walked around the couch and approached the fireplace. After he'd placed several logs inside and was preparing to light them, Emma closed her eyes and waved her glove-covered hand, opening her eyes once more to find a roaring flame that sent shadows dancing on the walls of the living room. "Ice caves aren't conducive to heat, I gather?" he asked, eyebrow raised as he returned to the couch, taking a seat as close to her as possible.

"Magical ice caves, not exactly," she replied, taking another sip from her hot chocolate. They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, his eyes never drifting from her, as if she might disappear again if he looked away for even a second. Finally, she lifted up the blanket pile and patted the empty space next to her. He considered it for a moment before stripping off his jacket, the shiny leather reminder her of her own - lying frozen solid in the bathroom floor - and sliding over directly next to her.

He radiated more warmth than all of the blankets combined. A pirate thing, maybe…built for tropical climates. Like the way he always smelled like the sea, no matter how much time he'd spent away from it. It was a part of him. Well, maybe not a pirate thing, she corrected her own thoughts, a Killian thing.

"Would you change anything?" his voice interrupted her thoughts as she met his cerulean gaze once more.

"What do you mean?"

"If you could go back, like we did, and rewrite your life…your story…what would you change?" He searched her expression, as if he could find the answer before even she knew it, and what terrified and thrilled her was that she knew that he could. She was an open book to him…had been from the very beginning.

"Nothing," she answered without hesitation. Truth was, she'd known the answer for awhile because she'd already asked herself the very same question.

"All that you've faced...villains and dark magic and snow monsters and ice caves and yet, you wouldn't change any of it? Why?" he asked, almost taken aback at her answer.

"I snapped a branch in the Enchanted Forest, and Snow White and Prince Charming never met, which meant I was never born, which meant Henry was never born…I could go on forever." He nodded knowingly. "I wouldn't just be changing my life. I'd be changing the lives of every person I've ever known. Every person I've ever cared about." She pulled off her gloves and took his hand and hook in hers, a new warmth spreading throughout her body. A fire that she'd never known until he came into her life. "This is the life I was meant for. It hasn't been easy, but the last time I checked, happy endings aren't just being handed out in this town. That doesn't mean they aren't out there waiting for us."

"Even for the Savior? In times of constant crisis?" he teased, half-mocking and half-serious. She answered with a roll of her eyes.

"Maybe even for me. And you, Killian, what would you change, if you could?" she asked, suddenly very aware of her heart pounding hard against her chest as she awaited his answer.

"Not one moment of one lifetime, because they all led me on a journey up a beanstalk, through a portal to a land without magic, back to Neverland on a rescue mission, back in time on a hero's journey, and here, to this moment in this lifetime…with you, Emma." As he spoke, he'd leaned in closer, until she could now feel the warmth of his breath on her face. Finally, she closed what little space remained between them, pressing her lips against his. Slowly at first, softly, the flame between them growing stronger until it roared hotter than the fire they sat mere feet away from. He laid back on the couch as she followed, laying over him, hands tangling in each other's hair. She ran her fingers up underneath his shirt, eliciting a low moan. But just as she began to tug the fabric up his chest, he pulled away, eyes bright with desire but darkening by the second. "As much as I wish to follow the path we've just started down…" he started, nipping gently at her lip to signify his internal conflict. "I don't wish to rob you of what little energy you may have recovered." He pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear, the back of his fingers brushing softly against her cheek. She could still see the worry there, now mixed with a million other emotions, all of which she could clearly read in his expression. But it was his concern for her that won out. She pressed her lips softly against his cheek and shifted onto her side, melting into him as he followed suit.

"We have all the time in the world," she whispered.

"Aye, that we do, love," he answered as he wrapped his arms tightly around her and they drifted off to sleep.