4/27/14: Figured I needed to get this out of my head and posted today since (I hope) we may be getting the actual canon version of what happens after TLK tonight…

Synopsis: Emma and Killian are alone for the first time since their TLK. Battle-weary and emotionally wrecked, how will she cleanse her fears and show him how very much she accepts his new role in her life?

Her True Love

The quiet settled around them like a thick, down comforter, almost lulling the senses into a hard-won surrender. The fight was done. The witch was dead. Henry was safe and reconnecting with Regina. And now, for the first time since a press of lips literally changed her life, they were alone: the savior and the pirate.

In the midst of battle and the ensuing commotion of restoring Storybrooke to its normal state – well, as normal as a town full of fairy-tale creatures and a pack of flying monkeys could be – there'd been little time to acknowledge what had transpired between them. Someone else had always been there acting as an unsuspecting buffer, and Emma had been thankful for it. She wouldn't push this aside, but neither did she really know how to handle it.

"Dave seemed particularly eager to make his departure," Killian's tired voice parted the silence.

Emma turned her head in reaction, taking in the sight of him leaning against the far wall, a tumbler half full of amber liquid loosely clutched in his hand. Her true love, her thoughts battered against her skull, repeating the same three words every time her eyes received him.

Reaching for her own glass, she replied, "Well, wouldn't you?" She referred to her father's insistence that he return to the hospital to be with his wife and their newborn son. David stayed long enough for one celebratory drink before directing a very pointed look at Emma and departing, leaving her to wage her final battle alone. Tipping the glass to her lips, she swallowed a mouthful of burning liquid and glanced at Killian again.

Head titled back and eyes closed, Killian looked weary. His leather clothes were covered in a layer of dirt, some of which also decorated his neck and face, and a long rip split the material covering his thigh. Emma's heart clenched. He'd fought relentlessly, fending off a pair of the monkeys without causing either any lasting harm. But even before that, he'd been fighting against his own demons. He'd told her about Zelena's curse only moments before she'd forced him to enact it. Everything had worked out for the better, but she could only imagine how much guilt he'd been wrestling, even without knowing all the details of their year apart.

Her true love. Lifting her fingers to her lips, Emma replayed the moment their shared kiss – true love's kiss – had broken the curse and temporarily stunned the witch. He loved her. Loved her so much he'd managed the impossible and found her in New York City. Loved her enough to openly defy the Wicked Witch of the West just so Emma didn't have to choose between her magic and her family. Loved her enough to stay by her side, no matter how many times she disregarded his feelings. A broken sound caught in her throat as moisture welled in her eyes.

Killian's startling blue gaze swung to her face, curious and…wary? "What is it, love?"

She blinked rapidly, keeping the tears at bay and stood from the couch. Her feet carried her closer to him despite her mind having no idea what to say. Of course there was much for them to discuss, but where to begin? Cautiously, she lifted her thumb to trace along a smudge on his cheek, ignoring the way her hand slightly trembled. Killian's eyes widened at the contact. Searching his face, her mind rallied for the perfect words to express the enormity of her feelings, those of fear, relief, hope, and…love, but the words would not settle into a coherent thought save those three words again. Her true love. Emma shook her head and commented quietly, "You need a shower."

Killian's lips curved into a hint of his usual smirk. "Aye, I imagine that's true." Setting his glass on a nearby end table, he raised his hand toward her and plucked a twig from her thick mane of hair. Leaning closer, he whispered, "Though the same could be said of you, love."

Emma swallowed audibly. Her blood suddenly felt too thick in her veins, her overwhelmed heart hammering in her chest and resounding in her ears. He stood so near that she could feel the heat of his breath against her neck, yet he was still too far away. She longed to feel his body pressed against hers, to use him as the pillar of strength and comfort she'd hardly dared to wish for and certainly never expected to find in such an infamous character. For weeks she'd ignored the pull of their chemistry, chalking it up to simple attraction. But it had always been there, coiled tightly beneath the surface of her skin. Now he was here, they were here together alone, and there was no point in running from him anymore. She may not have the words, but she could show him.

Meeting his patient, yet intense gaze, Emma took his hand and wordlessly led him upstairs to her bathroom. She turned on the shower faucet and waited for the water to heat before turning to face him. Once again, the silence clung to them, though this time it offered little in the way of comfort as it pulsated with a tension that tightened the muscles of her abdomen and made her light-headed. Keeping her gaze firmly locked on his, Emma slowly worked to undo the buttons of her outer shirt.

Killian's eyes blazed like sapphires in the sun as he watched her toss the shirt to the floor. "Emma," he breathed out.

"Shh," she murmured, stepping near enough to loosen the buckles of his vest. "Let me."

He nodded, his jaw clenching and releasing. The leather of his vest peeled from his body with a soft sigh, revealing a trail of buttons leading from his lower sternum into his trousers. Using her fingertips, Emma traced feather-light patterns over his heart before separating discs from holes until his linen shirt hung open, framing the defined planes of his chest and abdomen. A soft groan escaped his lips as she smoothed her hands over his flesh, relishing in the velvet of his skin and the tantalizing roughness of the dark hair covering his upper body. Her true love.

Watching the play of emotions across his face, Emma grasped his hand again and brought it to the hem of her tank top, urging him to lift it. His knuckles caressed her lower belly, back and forth, before strong fingers gripped the flimsy material and carefully worked it over her head. As soon as his hand retreated, Emma reached behind her and unclasped her bra, leaving her fully exposed for his study. Her breath caught in her throat as obsidian bled into sapphire in his eyes and his wicked tongue unconsciously moistened his lower lip.

"You're so beautiful," Killian spoke softly, his voice low and rough. His hand jerked once toward her before he brought it back to his side, fingers closed in a fist.

Emma's heart tightened; even now he was a gentleman, leashing his desires for her sake and not wanting to assume he had the right to…how would he say it? Take liberties with her person? Didn't he know he was the only one who did have that right?

Their gazes locked, Emma silently reached for his hook, asking without words if she could remove this final defense. Killian's fingers brushed through her hair as he nodded. The sharp metal was heavier than Emma remembered, though just as weighty in its infamy. It made a dull sound as she placed it on the countertop.

A second set of noises called her attention back to Killian. He'd removed his boots and was working to loosen the belt which held his sword. Following his lead, she kicked off her own shoes and stripped her jeans from her long legs. Standing in only her underwear, she closed the distance between them and slipped her hands under the black fabric which still hung loosely from his shoulders. She eased it down his arms, fingering the leather sheath which covered his left forearm as she saw it for the first time.

"Does it hurt?" Emma asked softly, noting the way the straps bit into his fair skin.

"Not too much," he replied. Taking a deep, slow breath, he added, "Help me take it off?"

Emma's pulse leapt, her fingers feeling almost clumsy as she unfastened the clasps which clamped the leather straps tightly to his arm. The years of wear had left their mark on his skin; imprinting him with permanent welts born from the constant abrasions. Emma traced each imperfection with the barest touches, feeling each hurt with the same empathy as she did his latest injuries. When her fingers reached the end of his wrist, she cupped it in her palm as if to hold his missing hand. Looking up, she noted the way he seemed to hold his breath and the shadows edging in his eyes. For all his bravado and his unnatural existence, he was still human; flawed and insecure like everyone else.

Bending down, Emma placed a soft kiss on his wrist before offering him a smile she hoped was filled with assurance. "Oh Emma," Killian exhaled before gathering her in his arms and pulling her flush against his body. Skin to skin. Finally. Her breasts pressed firmly to his chest, Emma felt his heart beating in tandem with her own. She wrapped her arms around his slim waist and let her hands caress the long lines of his back, feeling the strength of his taut muscles.

He nudged her face with his jaw then claimed her mouth in a desperate kiss. Emma moaned, a lick of liquid flame racing to her core to kindle her desire. She thrust her tongue past his lips and raised one of her hands to lace her fingers in his silky hair. He tasted of the rum he'd been drinking and was just as intoxicating. This was the moment they'd been building toward since they'd met in the Enchanted Forest. He was here, in her arms, and he was hers. Her true love.

Pulling back for air, Killian's lips continued to spread kisses along her jaw, down the column of her neck then back along her cheekbone. With every movement, his chest brushed deliciously against her sensitive breasts, hardening her peaks almost to the point of pain. She felt him pressed against her abdomen – thick and hard beneath his trousers. Emma closed her eyes and hummed with pleasure, seemingly unable to keep her feelings contained. Though, a soft chuckle flashed them open again.

"What is it?" She asked, somewhat breathlessly.

Killian drew his thumb along her cheek. "It seems my filth is rubbing off on you, love."

Glancing in the mirror, Emma noticed that both their faces were now smeared with dirt in addition to being red-tinged with lust. She grinned, her eyes wild and glittering. Tugging at his waistband, she said, "Off."

"As you wish," he replied.

She quickly removed the last of her clothes as her eyes stayed fixed on him, shameless in her perusal. Killian Jones was a work of art worthy of being immortalized in marble at the hands of a master sculptor. Even the map of old wounds which decorated his skin like a star chart could not detract from his appeal. Instead, they spoke of his determination, his strength and his resilience; all qualities that Emma would've asked for if she'd had the option of hand-picking her perfect mate. Though at the moment, her thoughts were having immense difficulty straying from another feature of his that had long piqued her curiosity.

Grabbing his hand, she carefully led him underneath the spray of warm water, shivering as the intense spray rained down upon her sensitive skin. The sound of their ragged breathing mingled with the patter of water rushing around them. An almost unbearable urge which Emma could only identify as anticipation stung her nerve endings as her eyes continued to drink him in. "Killian," she finally murmured. Without breaking their held gaze, she reached down and took him between her two palms.

He groaned: a guttural, sinful sound that seemed to reach out and stimulate her with tangible results. Her breasts felt heavy and a rush of want settled between her thighs. As her fingers stroked along his hard length, his own hand lifted to cup one of her aching breasts, drawing forth her own gasp. God, how she wanted him.

With a soft laugh, Emma stepped back and grasped the bottle of shower gel. Squeezing a liberal amount into her hands, she worked up lather then spread her palms over his glistening skin. She felt his gaze burning her as she gently cleansed each inch of his skin, front and back, save the impressive length jutting from a thatch of dark curls between his legs. He squirmed when her fingertips swept over his ribs, and she tucked that kernel of knowledge away for another time. His hips continued to flex, much like her own thighs pressing uselessly together, until she finally took him in her hands again.

Killian's breath escaped in a rush, his mouth falling open before he took his lower lip between his teeth. Emma's desire flared. Her fingers tightened around his shaft, and he stumbled forward a step. Grinning down at her he spoke swiftly, "I think it's time to return the favor, Swan." His eyes motioned to the bottle of soap as he held out his hand. With a lift of her brow, Emma squeezed the gel into his waiting palm and rubbed their hands together.

He explored her skin with precision, being particularly thorough as his fingers crept between her thighs. Emma's legs trembled and she clung to his shoulders to steady herself. Opening her eyes, she watched – stunned – as a perfect marriage of desire and reverence beamed from his expression. She made him feel that way. She was his true love.

Emma's fingers anchored in his hair once more, drawing his face down to reunite their lips. She kissed him like she had yesterday; like their very lives depended on it. She kissed him as if she might never have the opportunity to do so again. She kissed him like she loved him. And love him she did. The surety of it filled her being with almost the same power as true love's kiss, cleansing all her fears. She wanted him, and there was absolutely nothing keeping her from having him.

"Killian," she called his name again, nearly panting for air. "Bed."

He nodded, his hand reaching behind them to cut off the spray of water. Emma scrambled for a towel, haphazardly running it over her body before starting to dry him off. Smirking, he tossed the towel aside and lifted her into his arms. "Don't bother love. I've a feeling we're just going to get wet again."

Killian carried her through the doorway and carefully set her on the bed, joining her a split second later. Leaning down, he pressed his mouth to hers once more as he positioned himself between her legs. She felt him – impossibly hard and radiating with heat – at her entrance. Lifting her hips she tried to force him inside, but he held himself still. His lips softly kissed her once, twice more before he captured her eyes. "I love you, Emma."

Emma felt tears prickling the corners of her eyes, but not from fear or pain. Of course she knew he loved her, just as he knew she loved him. That was how true love's kiss worked. But they'd never actually said the words to one another. At least, not aloud. Until that moment, Emma hadn't realized how much she wanted, no needed the words after all. Taking a steadying breath, she said, "I love you, too, Killian."

Blue and green eyes locked together, Killian's hips moved forward to join them as one. They gasped in unison as he filled her, stretching her in a perfect balance between pain and pleasure. He stilled almost immediately, though Emma could feel the fine tremors of his muscles revealing the effort it cost him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders. "I haven't broken yet," she teased as she tilted her hips toward his.

Killian set a perfect rhythm of give and take, playing her body as well as a finely tuned instrument. When he discovered an angle which brought his motions directly over that sensitive spot within her, he slowly flexed his hips to stroke against it over and over again. She clutched at his back, feeling the strength of his muscles as he commanded her body to reach for its climax. Desire and love – twisted together like a steel cord – coiled tighter and tighter low in her abdomen, straining toward the breaking point. Until finally, it snapped, sending her spiraling in a wash of pure bliss.

Emma cried in pleasure, his name a litany from her lips, blessing their union. She held him tightly as he moved erratically, seeking his own relief. With a few more hard thrusts, she felt his release pour into her just as he called out her name, his body tensing above hers. She stroked her hands over his back until he relaxed and settled his weight directly beside her.

They kissed lazily, still dazed and replete. Meeting his contented eyes, Emma smiled. Her fingers traced over his brow. In that perfect moment, with her walls completely down, he could've asked her anything and she would've given it to him. It wasn't just the sex – which had been as amazing as she suspected it would be – it was that fragile hope she'd nurtured for years finally coming to fruition. For this one shining moment, everything in her world was finally right.

He kissed the tip of her nose, and she stifled the urge to laugh. How very un-Captain Hook of him. But then, she had only started to know the layers of his personality. Now that his walls were down too, what other treasures might she discover? His arms flexed, pulling her tighter against him. She nestled her head in the crook of his neck and closed her eyes.

"Are we going to talk about this?" His voice sounded as smooth and thick as honey.

Emma smiled against his neck. "Do we really need to?"

He exhaled in a huff. "That depends. Are you going to claim this is this a one-time thing?"

"It's not even a once-tonight thing…" Emma laughed before propping herself on an elbow to look at him. Seeing his serious expression she continued, "Is this a forever thing?"

Killian gently moved strands of hair away from her eyes. "Aye. That would be my wish."

A slow smile took over Emma's face. "Then no, we don't need to talk about this." Leaning down she whispered, "My true love," just as her lips met his in another perfect copy of true love's kiss.