"It's called a movie," Emma said, unable to hold in a laugh as Killian sat staring at the TV screen, completely dumbfounded.

"Aye, but how does it work? This isn't some sort of magical vision, is it?" he asked, glancing down at his hand and his hook, as if expecting to see the customary purple smoke floating out of them. When that didn't happen, he reached over and pulled Emma's hands into his lap, examining them carefully. She shivered, an electric shock running through her body the moment that he touched her, and she unconsciously moved closer to him on the couch.

She should have been used to this, by now. Feeling this way when they touched. They had been back in Storybrooke for almost a month, and Killian hadn't left her side for a moment since then. Not since that late night on the Jolly Roger, just after they had rescued Henry, when they finally admitted to one another that the connection they had established…the understanding of one another so easily, so comfortably…was more than just that of kindred spirits. It was true love.

"There's no magic to it…at least, not the kind of magic you're used to. Long story short, electrical signals are sent through wires inside the television to create the moving pictures on the screen. They're meant to be watched for fun," Emma explained, though Killian furrowed his eyebrow anyway, obviously flustered at this strange new machine. Emma leaned over and kissed him, unable to resist him when he pouted his lip out so pitifully.

"I can think of a million other things we could do for fun, love," he teased, tangling his fingers in her hair and pulling her into another, longer kiss. As much as Emma wanted to do…other things…she had been planning this movie night for weeks, if only to see how he reacted to the movie she'd chosen.

"Killian," she pleaded, pushing her hand against his chest to keep him at bay as he attempted to trail his kisses down her neck. She knew that this was one battle he was going to lose…there was just something about the way she said his name that entranced him. "First, we watch the movie, and then we engage in other activities. Deal?"

He took time to consider this for a moment, glancing from Emma to the TV, before he finally hung his head in defeat.

"Movie time, it is then," he said, placing particular emphasis on this new addition to his vocabulary.

Emma was trying to ease him into her world as best she knew how. She started slow, teaching him about the telephone first. They started with the land line at the sheriff's station because he had immediately requested to be her deputy upon their arrival back in Storybrooke, as hunting down people and determining a necessary course of punishment seemed to be one of the only sensible skills on his resume, apart from piracy. And although that request had been granted in an unconventional way ("Let's lock ourselves in the brig and test out the sleeping quarters, shall we?" he'd said, as Emma recalled with a grin), Emma loved working alongside him, much to the chagrin of her father, who always seemed to be there with his feet propped up on the desk, watching them like a hawk.

But she had to admit that Killian was taking to his new environment quicker than she had expected. Now it only took him a couple of tries to pick the phone up and dial a number with his hook, and once he stopped trying to call Emma from across the room, growing increasingly frustrated when he got a busy signal, calls to and from the sheriff's station started to go more smoothly.

The movie was one of the simpler options Emma chose for Killian to learn, as she determined that he wasn't quite ready for a computer just yet. He was barely getting used to dressing in clothes that weren't made of leather, though Emma kept his pants and jacket hung up in the closet, in case they were ever needed…for any reason. For example, this particular night he happened to be wearing a pair of jeans that Charming had lent him and a black V-neck shirt that Emma had bought for him. He was convinced that he looked ridiculous and he constantly tugged at the jeans, scoffing as he rubbed his hand over the denim, but Emma couldn't seem to take her eyes off of him, no matter what he happened to be wearing. Tonight's V-neck, however, was hanging just low enough that his chest hair was peeking out, the soft cotton hugging tightly to every muscle.

"Emma? Shall we?" Killian's voice cut into Emma's thoughts as she attempted to regain her composure and pressed play on the remote control. Killian jumped slightly when the movie started out of nowhere, for apparently no reason at all, and Emma laughed, taking his hand in hers and intertwining their fingers together.

Killian sat, mesmerized as he stared at the screen with wonder, while Emma sat, mesmerized as she stared at Killian in much the same way.

But Peter, how do we get to Neverland?

Fly, of course.

Fly?

It's easy! All you have to do is to…is to…is to…Ha! That's funny.

What's the matter? Don't you know?

Oh, sure. It's…it's just that I never thought about it before. Say, that's it! You think of a wonderful thought.

Emma tried not to laugh as the dawning realization came over him. His eyes suddenly went from fascination with the moving picture to shock at who was on the screen in front of him, in a much…different…form.

"This is how your world sees him, then?" he asked after a moment, his eyes still locked on the screen. "A young lad clad in green tights?"

"That's him," Emma confirmed.

"Wait, does that mean that—" he stopped, scooting forward on the couch and hardly blinking as he waited for the answer to his question that Emma had been anticipating the most.

And now, Smee, to take care of master Peter Pan.

But, Captain, wouldn't it be more humane-like to slit his throat?

Aye, that it would, Mr. Smee. But I have given me word not to lay a finger, or a hook, on Peter Pan. And Captain Hook never breaks a promise.

"Well, I suppose there is one accuracy. I've never been one to break a promise," Killian mused as Emma smiled, remembering the promise he'd made her that they would find Henry and bring him home safely. And they had. "But the outfit? Not befitting a real pirate, at all," Killian added after a moment. Emma snorted with laughter as Killian finally turned his attention away from the movie for the first time. "What have I said?"

"I just wanted you to see what you had to compete with in this world," Emma teased. Finally reaching an understanding, Killian glanced back at the screen.

"There's no competition, love. I win, hands down. Sure, he has a real crocodile in his story, but there's something I have that he doesn't."

"Better hair?" Emma replied as Killian couldn't help but smile that familiar smirk of his before his expression sobered.

"You," he answered, his voice soft but strong as he reached up and ran the back of his finger along her cheek. Emma felt her heart begin to race, full of more love than she could possibly have imagined and a pure joy that she had never experienced before.

Trailing his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck, Killian pulled Emma into a deep, passionate kiss, their desire for each other burning so bright and so hot that it seemed to light the darkness of the room around them.

Even now, away from the adventures and the magic and the portals to other worlds, just sitting on the couch in the arms of the man that she loved, teaching him about something as uncomplicated as a movie, Emma knew that she had found her very own fairy tale.