Killian expected there to be some sort of feeling that accompanied teleportation, but there was nothing, just a fading black haze.

"I was looking for you too." Emma released his jacket lapels, stepping back. He stood still, his hand hovering in the air where her hip had been. "The new look comes with some other perks." Her bragging almost sounded shy.

"And what a look it is." His eyes flowed down her backside as she climbed the stairs to a house that looked as cold as she did. White siding, grey stairs, and closed curtains in all the windows.

She turned on her tiptoes at the top of the stairs, gracefully swinging her arms at her sides. Her mouth was open slightly in surprise, and there was a hint of a smile. "Do you mean the hair or the dress?" He kept his eyes on hers as he climbed the stairs, trying to gauge her state of mind.

"Both. You look quite fetching in black."

She leaned her head back and glanced at his lips, "Everyone looks fetching in black." She chuckled, and opened the door, letting it swing wide.

"What do you think?"

"I think I'm surprised you invited me in." The décor reminded him a bit of Regina's office, though to a lesser extent. It wasn't exactly a good sign.

He looked back to her, and saw that she was posing for him: hands on hips, feet crossed. Normally he would have found it charming but with the present situation, it just reminded him of Rumplestiltskin.

"Just because I'm the Dark One doesn't mean we can't still be together," she teased, that smile never quite leaving her lips. He still wasn't sure what to make of her mood, if it was false or not. She has said that they'd all failed her, but he couldn't tell from their first meeting if that included him. From the way she was acting, it seemed not, though he also knew better than to trust a Dark One.

She sauntered off, and as she passed by he noticed a heavy iron lock on a door just to the left of the stairs. He walked closer to the door, hearing clinks, and water pouring in the kitchen. Whatever was behind that door was obviously important. Curious, he moved towards it.

She appeared on his right, holding a glass of rum in front of him. There was no smoke, but he hadn't heard her shoes on the wooden floor either. He'd learned long ago during his nearly deadly sword fight with the Crocodile that Dark One's could teleport without a sound. The colored smoke was just theatrics.

"I still also know the fastest way to a pirate's heart is through his liquor." She spoke fast, in hushed tones. She was so close he could feel her warm breath on his cheeks from her hurried words. Her eyes, the same hazel green they'd always been, seemed brighter next to her white hair. Her lips spread into a smile, as genuine as ever. There was no malice in her eyes, no secret pain signifying that she felt betrayed by him in Camelot.

If he was going to save her with a kiss, now was a good a time as any.

"There's an even faster way."

He slid his right hand around her back and brought his lips to hers, leaning heavily into her. If she was surprised, it didn't last long. She pushed back, her hand coming up behind his neck and moving up to run her fingers in his hair. She parted her lips and deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue along his. He let her, for a moment.

"There's the pirate I remember." She paused their kiss, though she didn't open her eyes.

Their faces were pressed together, and the feel of her hot breath on his lips was inviting. She titled her head towards his lips again, and he leaned away quickly, sliding his arm off of back. He examined her face and hair for any sign that something had changed.

"It didn't bloody work," he whispered frantically, his eyes darting across her face. Was his love for her missing that spark that marked it as True Love? Or was her love for him not as he had hoped? It couldn't be; she had to be it. She was the One; he knew it in his bones.

"You've been talking to Belle." Her smile fell, and she took her hand off his shoulder.

Killian continued whispering, "Why didn't it work?"

Keeping her eyes down, she said, "It didn't work because there's nothing to fix, this is who I am now." Her voice grew higher pitched as she continued, "Why can't you accept that? Why can't anyone accept that?" She looked at him now, her eyes shining with calm fury.

"Because this isn't you!"

Silence followed his outburst. The fury disappeared from her eyes and she turned away, walking into the kitchen. He stayed where he was, not sure if pushing her would get him thrown out. She stood with her back facing him, and placed the glass of rum she still carried down on the counter hard.

"But this is me. This may be the darkest parts of me," then her voice softened as she continued, "but it's still me."

She spun towards him, leaning her hands against the counter behind her.

"It wasn't just Goodness that you fell in love with, Killian, otherwise you would've had a crush on my damn mother. You fell in love with a woman who you said was always ready for a fight; it was her 'natural state'. Remember that? You fell in love with an orphan, a woman who was so many things to you." The seductive pull of her voice moved him toward her with slow steps. "I'm still that woman. I'm still Emma." She smiled, and it was equally sweet and sad, "I'm still your Swan."


Emma kept her body still, watching him approach slowly, Killian's eyes glued to her face. She wasn't sure what showed on her face, but whatever it was brought him closer to her.

"Aye, you are," he whispered. Abruptly he halted his steps, and she tried to hide her disappointment. "And I'm still the man who turned his back on vengeance so he could be a part of something. So that he could make up for the things he'd done that he shouldn't have."

"Is that why? I thought what you were really looking for was a new home."

That did it. His squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away. She thought of his words to her on that bench by the pond. Don't you even care about them, or anyone in this town?

"It doesn't matter how much you care about anyone else. You'd still leave them to be with the one you love most. Isn't that right?" She couldn't tell if she was talking to herself or him, but it didn't matter. He was moving again, moving till he was close enough to put his one hand on the cabinet behind her head and his hook beneath her chin. Their bodies didn't touch, but his face was inches from hers.

"I would, always," he whispered, and then his hand reached down to curve behind her neck and brought her lips to his.

His kiss reminded her of that night in the hallway after she'd returned his heart to him. Fierce and hot, with no time to waste. His tongue in her mouth was so soft and warm.

His body heat urged her closer, and his left arm slid around her back, squeezing her closer. The tip of his hook brushed her back and she shivered. She ran her left hand up his leather-clad arm and into his hair, sliding her nails across his scalp. The sound he made was almost a growl, and he moved his mouth down to kiss beneath her right ear. Her sign turned to a gasp when he bit her neck hard but without pain, the pressure of his teeth hitting all the right nerves. He continued to kiss her neck, alternating between lips and teeth.

His hand slid down from her neck, pressing into her skin against her breast, then stomach, until he slid it around her hip. She pulled on his hair; bringing his head up and his mouth back to hers. His tucked his fingers underneath her slim dress and slid it up her thigh to where her tights ended and her skin began. He fingered the elastic band that held her tights to her thighs, and started to move his hand inside her thigh.

The glass of rum shattered on the floor, knocked off in their enthusiasm. Killian pulled back for a moment, his lips hovering above hers. Emma smiled at the sound and brought her lips to his again, but he leaned away from her.

"Killian?" She slid her left hand from his hair to grab a hold of his jacket collar. Bringing her right hand in front of his face, she spun her wrist smoothly and there was a clinking sound. Killian looked down. The glass was whole again, though the rum was still in a puddle on the floor.

His hand had let go of her dress and was pressed against the counter. He kept his head down, hiding his expression from her sight. "This was an accident." His husky voice caused her heart to speed up.

"It doesn't matter, it's just a little spill," she laughed, "I'm tired of talking." She leaned toward him slowly again, and he stepped back completely this time, far enough to keep her from touching him.

"No. I mean that kissing you was a mistake." He looked afraid or in shock, she wasn't sure. He took a slow breath, and it seemed to steady him, though he still wouldn't look at her with those wide eyes. He ran his hand through his hair as he shook his head.

She crossed her arms and took a quiet breath to slow her heartbeat. Looking at him through lowered lids, she realized she should have expected this from him. She didn't want to make this easy for him, so she kept silent and waited.

He looked up at her finally, and without a word he spun around and rushed out the door, slamming it behind him.

She let out a shallow sigh. He wasn't ready yet, not ready to accept that they belonged together not just through good and bad times, but through darkness too.


The chatter in The White Rabbit helped to keep him from thinking too much.

After leaving Emma's house, he'd wandered the streets until he ended up at the docks, but seeing his ship only reminded him of too many things. Going to Granny's Diner was even worse. The mood had been celebratory; something had happened today that had lifted people's spirits, and after hearing the gossip of what Regina and the others had accomplished, he had little desire to remain there.

Now he sat alone at the only real bar in town, where a few others were seated. There was plenty of noise from the pool tables, plus there was music, and the noise felt like a barrier between him and the world. The bar tender didn't talk to him, even to refill his glass, and neither did anyone else. People of this town had learned quickly how sharp his tongue could be when he was angry.

"You know, Jack will sell you the whole bottle if you ask."

Of course there was always one person that just had to speak up.

Belle took the seat to his left, and he could feel her eyes on him. She set her enchanted glass cloche on the bar in front of her. Quite a few petals had fallen from the rose, suspended in a floating circle below the bud, but most of the rose was still intact.

"I take it you followed me from Granny's?"

"I did."

He took another gulp from his glass, finishing it off. As the bartender walked by, Belle reached into her purse and slid three money notes on the table, each with the number 10 imprinted on them.

"The whole bottle and another glass, please?" Belle's lovely voice was the epitome of civilized, and it made him want to hit something. After they'd made their peace with each other, over time of course, after the supposed death of Rumplestiltskin, she'd started to think well of him. What would she think now, if she knew how right Emma was about him?

The bartender slid the bottle between them and smiled at Belle as he picked up the money. The short fat rum bottle was labeled Appleton Estate, and it made him smile.

"Do you think Regina would ever touch rum if she knew it had a name involving apples?" He looked at Belle with a half smile, and she giggled, tilting her head down to try hide her smile. He grabbed the bottle and poured out more liquor for them both.

"So, you tried to kiss her?"

"Aye. She didn't even flinch." He took a swig from the glass.

"I'm sorry." Her hand twitched away from the cup, as if to reach out to him, but she didn't move.

He looked toward her, and in her eyes there was more than sympathy. There was respect. They both knew what it felt like to fight for a cause that everyone else said was impossible. He knew from their talks how often people had questioned her resolve to stick by Rumple. Killian had been told many times over that killing the Dark One was futile.

"It's not over. I spent over a century trying to find a way to kill the bloody Crocodile, I can spend at least that long trying to save the woman I love."

His brave face worked. Belle nodded and raised her glass to him, and he raised it in return, clinking them together. As he drank, he thought of what he'd overheard Snow say at the diner: that they might lose Emma. Before today, Killian hadn't thought that he might lose himself along the way. What if he couldn't resist her? She was his home. Right now, all the lights in his home were off, and he wasn't sure anymore if he even cared.