A/N: Gosh. It's been forever since I last posted anything, and for that I apologize. Life's been crazier than usual lately, though hopefully things will start to simmer down in the next month, and I can get back to a normal posting schedule. I have so much I want to write and share with you all...

Anyway. This is a short one-shot I wrote for a dear friend of mine, Elly, to motivate her to keep writing her story. I'm not 100% sure I ship Captain Swan (Still torn up over Swanfire), but I might be getting there. Anyway, hope you enjoy, and apologies on the lack of posting and rambly author's note. :P

Disclaimer: If owned Once Upon A Time, there would be many, many things different with the show. Sometimes I wish I did own it.

Killian slipped into the apartment, being certain to be quiet. Henry was most assuredly already asleep, and he wasn't certain if Emma already was or not. He'd been out with his mates, and he felt a twinge of guilt for returning home later than he had intended to.

He hoped Emma was already asleep, otherwise she might have a few choice words to say about that…

He kicked off his boots and hung up his coat, slipping into his and Emma's bedroom a minute later. He felt a flicker of surprise when he found his wife not in bed, as he had expected, but sitting at her desk with the lights on. She wasn't working – or rather, looked like she had been. Her eyes were closed, and her forehead resting against the desk.

Killian came up behind her, placing a gentle hand on her back. "Emma?" he murmured.

Emma's eyes flashed open and she started up, sitting up in the chair abruptly. She blinked at Killian for a moment, still looking mostly asleep. "Killian?" she mumbled.

Killian smiled. "Aye," he said softly, rubbing her back. "I thought you'd be in bed already."

"Is it late?" Emma asked sleepily, passing a hand over her eyes.

Killian wavered between saying 'no' and hoping she was asleep enough to not realize it was a lie, and just telling her the truth. Maybe she was asleep enough that she wouldn't be too angry with him. "A bit, yes."

Emma turned back to her desk, staring blankly at all the papers strewn over the top. "I have work to do," she mumbled.

Killian had been against putting her desk in their room from the start. The bedroom, he said, should be for other things, not paperwork. But Emma had been insistent, and he had, as usual, been gracious. He decided he would talk to her about it again in the morning. "In the morning, love," he said softly, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of her head. "You're already asleep, and I think the bed is a better place for that."

Before she could protest, Killian slid the chair backwards, gently reaching down to lift Emma into his arms. To his mildly amused surprise, she didn't fight him, but leaned her head against his chest, her eyes closing again.

Killian laid Emma down in the bed, tenderly pulling the covers out from under her, and on top of her. She was already in her night clothes, so with another soft kiss to her forehead, he moved away to change himself. He slipped into bed beside Emma a few minutes later, and she immediately turned to him, snuggling in close.

A smile touched Killian's lips, and he kissed her on the cheek, whispering, "Goodnight, Emma."