Author's Note: This is a present for my lovely Captain Swan Secret Shipmate on Tumblr - faith-health-ouat-doctorwho-mmfd. I hope that I made up for my lack of poetic notes with this story!


Soon I'll smile

I know I'll feel this loneliness no more

All of my days

For I look around me

And it seems you've found me

("All of My Days" - Alexi Murdoch)


After all is said and done, it's the quiet nights at the loft, just him and her, that she loves the most.

All her life, she has been running, fighting or pushing people away. It was just easier for her to move away, restart her life, rather than to deal with any situation that bothered her. It was easier to have few belongings, rather than pack. It was easier to have a one-night stand, rather than to let someone behind her walls. Being abandoned repeatedly as a child, teenager, and young adult did that to a person. She always felt that she lived her life in shade, always avoiding experiencing much of anything, until her 28th birthday when Henry persuaded her to finally step into the light.

What light her life would turn out to be.

The man sleeping next to her, tightened his arm around her in his sleep, desperate to always have her closer. Who knew, the dastardly Captain Hook was a cuddler when he slept?

The thing is… he knows how she feels, doesn't even have to ask her to explain why she does certain things or acts a certain way, because he lived through it too. Broken, battered and alone. Three hundred years (give or take a few decades) seeking revenge in a shadowy Neverland jungle. He doesn't have to explain his demons to her, because she knows what's like to live in your own dark thoughts of bitterness.

They don't have to tell each other, because they lived it all the same.

So, when they are curled up on the couch together, bodies tucked snugly under a blanket watching movies, it sometimes takes her breath away that it feels so absolutely right. After running and fighting and hiding for so long, being with him feels like home. She feels like she can finally, thankfully, breathe.

That alone will always amaze her.

Tonight, she's curled up against his side, head on his chest as she contentedly feels the gentle rise and fall of his breathing as he sleeps. He is splayed out, all sinewy limbs on what is quickly becoming their couch, in their loft. She marvels at her gorgeous man, especially in his sleep.

Pushing herself up to an elbow, she admires how all his worries that hide behind his eyes (mostly about her battling green Wicked Witches) fall away. Seeing him, stretched out, relaxed and sleeping on their couch makes her heart swell and twist in a way that two years ago, would have had her fleeing out the door.

She doesn't flee now, instead she burrows closer into his side, inhaling the smell of him deep into her soul.

She knows now, this is what love feels like. He found her after all. He searched and waited and fought for a year for her.

Gazing over his form again, she also appreciates her irresistible pirate with his new Storybrooke look. It took her awhile, but she finally convinced him to exchange his pirate leathers for some comfortable modern clothes when they are laying about the loft.

(It doesn't need to be said that she also quickly assures him that he can continue his suave and debonair pirate look around town. "I have a reputation as a fierce foe to protect, my love," he reminds her.

"Sure," she reminds me with a smile, "my fierce pirate that pops into bakeries in for pastries."

He silences her with a wink and a kiss that leaves them both breathless.)

The smattering of chest hair peeks out from the deep v-neck of his shirt. She wasn't surprised that he chose something that still proudly put his finely sculpted chest on display. Oh yes, she most definitely appreciates his new look of the black v-neck shirt and black track pants. (Black apparently was always a non-negotiable.) She carefully traces his stubble, noticing its almost reddish hue in the dim light, with tentative fingers, smiling lightly as he turns his cheek into her hand, his lips curving up into a smile as he lightly kisses the open palm..

"Can't keep your hands to yourself, darling?" He purrs as one eye peeks open at her in appreciation.

She hums happily and kisses his cheek in response. "Well, there is this dashing rapscallion cuddling on my couch."

He merely raises an eyebrow at her.

"Our couch." She corrects feeling the heat rush to her cheeks.

"Too right love," he replies with a wink and brushes his lips lightly against hers, tongue sweeping against her bottom lip, teasingly. "Now, remind me, my dear, what are we watching on the magical picture box tonight?"

She shrugs one shoulder carefully, wagging an eyebrow at him and smirking at the way he grin turns feral in a matter of seconds. "You certainly are… confident tonight, Captain."

"Aye. I must remind you that I do have a fair princess wrapped up in my arms."

When she first met him, she had to activity fight against the smile that comes to her when he called her Princess, (or love, or darling, or my Lady Swan) but now, she couldn't hold back her smiles if she tried. He reached his good hair around to tuck a stray blonde curl behind her ear as if he could read her thoughts, like always. "My beautiful Swan." He whispered, his hand cupping her cheek.

Leaning again, unable to resist, she kisses him yet again, threading her hand through his hair. "I love you."

"I know," he breathes, blue eyes claiming her, "and I you."

Resting her head on his chest, she curled again into his side, content to feel his heartbeat, listen to him breathe, content to be home at last.