Author's Note: Here's a little flashfic I wrote for Tumblr. No editing, inspired in part by an ask sent by penandinkprincess. Feedback makes me happy! Enjoy. :)

It wasn't until Emma reached for her glass and accidentally knocked it over for the third time that Killian realized they had something of a problem.

Emma Swan was drunk.

She apologized profusely to Granny, who had at first been amused – because Emma Swan getting tipsy at her counter was not something that happened every day – but was now skating toward lovingly annoyed. "I've half a mind to make you wipe up the counter yourself, girl," she said, her no-nonsense tone cutting through the rum-induced haze in Emma's mind enough to make her sit at attention. "One more spilled glass and I'm cutting you off."

"Sorry," Emma repeated, her cheeks flushed as Granny wiped a rag over the counter to sop up the spilled drink. The woman gave her a curt nod, accepting her apology, and ducked out back to put the glass in the wash.

Emma turned on her stool and smiled sheepishly at Killian. "I think I got us in trouble."

She looked so adorable, the rum flowing through her veins making her eyes cloudy and giving a rosy tint to her cheeks, that Killian couldn't help but chuckle. "Aye, love, but it's all right."

She beamed at him and, when it became clear that Granny was taking her sweet time refilling the drink Emma had spilled yet again, downed the rest of Killian's. The smug look on her face when she set his glass back down in front of him made him laugh out loud.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Killian felt like he should be worried. Normally Emma could hold her liquor a lot better than this. She did say that she hadn't had the chance to eat a proper lunch, though, so he figured it was simply too much rum with too little in her stomach to help soak it up.

Granny returned then with a refill on Emma's drink. She set it in front of Emma but addressed Killian. "See that she doesn't spill it again. Too much of my product has been absorbed by the bar rags tonight."

"Will do, milady," Killian said. He meant it, too. Granny scared him sometimes.

He'd never pegged Emma as a rambly drunk but holy heavens she would not shut up. Her babbling amused him, though, mostly because it was a side of her he very rarely saw.

It was adorable.

"My dad told me to have fun tonight so I'm having fun. He did say not to have too much fun like gee thanks, Dad, so I think maybe we should have too much fun just to spite him, you know? So I was thinking when we leave here we could go for a sail because we always have fun on the water, if you know what I mean."

Out of the corner of his eye, Killian spotted Granny hiding a smile. Killian hid one as well. He did indeed know what she meant. Something about being on the open ocean at dusk made kisses so much sweeter.

They hadn't gone on an evening sail in a while; most of their evening time recently had been spent pretending to watch the moving pictures offered on the Netflix. Their adventure in the Underworld was still very recent. As such, they'd been sticking close to town and working to turn the house Killian and Henry had picked out for them into their home.

A clatter startled Killian back to the present. He'd been listening to her rambles for so long that he didn't realize she'd started gesturing with her hands as she spoke. As such, she had indeed knocked over her glass for the fourth time. Thankfully she'd drained her drink this time so nothing spilled but Granny was still over to them in an instant. "I'm taking her home," Killian assured the woman as he settled their tab and then slid a couple of doubloons across the counter for her troubles.

Granny stared him down for a moment before turning her lips up in a smirk. "Good. And just so you're aware, I can't promise that I won't tease the hell out of her when she arrives hungover for her usual cocoa in the morning."

Once outside Granny's, another problem presented itself: how in blazes was Killian going to get Emma home? They'd walked to Granny's and she was certainly in no shape to walk home. Hell, the stairs had been hard enough to navigate.

It ended up not being an issue. "I am so not walking home," Emma said.

That and a tight grasp of his hand were Killian's only warnings. A cloud of gray smoke enveloped them and he felt weightless for the briefest of moments. Then his feet touched terra firma, the smoke cleared, and he found himself standing in their bedroom.

While he appreciated the solution, he did wish she would warn him properly when she was about to do that. Magical transport was disorienting.

"I should open a livery service," Emma grinned at him. "Poof from point A to point B in an instant, no lines, no waiting."

His disorientation-induced annoyance vanished. "Aye, love," he chuckled. Gods, he loved her.

"So now that we're home …" She flung her arms over his shoulders, clasping her hands behind his neck and holding him in a loose hug. "We still have to take my dad's advice. Or not take my dad's advice. I can't remember which now."

Drunk Emma was rambly and flirty, it seemed. There was a telltale cloudiness in her eyes, though, one that let him know that her alcohol-induced giddiness was winding down. It also meant he had a good idea what was going to happen in a few minutes, even if she was too muddled to realize it.

"Tell you what, love," Killian said as he eased down on her side of the bed, pulling her with him. "Let me take a minute to freshen up. You sit here and I'll be right back."

She pouted at him, an actual full pout, her lower lip jutting out and a puppy-dog expression on her face. "But then we'll have too much fun?"

"Of course."

She heaved a mock sigh. "Okay, go freshen up. But if you're not back in a minute, pirate, I'm coming after you."

She singsonged the last part, which made Killian swallow a laugh. He ducked from the room and, just in case she did actually follow him, headed to the bathroom.

When he returned, teeth freshly brushed and glass of water and two white tablets Emma called Tylenol firmly in hand, he was not at all surprised to find his Swan passed out in the middle of the bed, snoring softly.

Smiling, Killian set the pills and water on her nightstand and carefully tugged off her boots. She didn't even flinch. Then he set her boots in the corner of the room, draped a blanket over his Swan, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Good night, love. Don't let Granny tease you too much in the morning."