Being in such a large house with so few people took some getting used to.
When she was growing up, it was always the opposite. When she lived with the Swans, their house had been small, but reasonable for three people (which was likely why they gave her up the second they found out they were going to have a baby of their own). When she lived in Foster homes, she had lived in big houses with lots of people- she remembers, now, the time she spent with Ingrid. Her house had been large, but full of other foster children, making the large amount of space seem like nothing. And the loft had been spacious, but the amount of people who lived there and the lack of privacy made the loft seem like there was no room at all.
Now, however, things were different.
She had loved living with her parents and brother, she really had, but there had been no space. But when she moved out of the loft and into the large, light blue house with the view of the ocean and the three extra rooms, there was almost too much space.
Talking about moving in with each other had been one thing; actually getting the idea off the ground was another. Returning from Camelot was one thing; it had taken efforts from both Merlin and Regina, both of whom were drained by the time it was over.
(Emma had refused to use magic; although Merlin assured her that the darkness was gone, vanquished forever, Emma still didn't trust herself. She was quickly backed up by her parents, Killian doing nothing more than wrapping a supportive arm around her waist and allowing her to lean on him).
Emma was both emotionally and physically drained when they were finally back in Storybrooke, and she could say the same of everyone else. Zelena was quickly returned to her cell, Robin assuring that the baby was okay before leaving and returning with Regina to her large mayoral mansion. Henry went with her, insisting that he wanted to sleep in his old bed that night, even though Emma could tell he had other reasons. Belle went to the pawn shop, dark bags under her eyes but still insisting on staying up and finding a way to wake up Rumpelstiltskin. After ensuring the rest of the group was alright, Emma followed her parents home, her eyes drooping as she leaned heavily on Killian, the four of them not speaking as they took the short walk to the loft.
Killian was fully prepared to part ways with Emma when they reached the front door, her parents shuffling in quickly to put her little brother to bed. Before he could unclasp his fingers from her's, however, she tugged on his arm lightly, stealing some of her father's sweatpants before dragging him upstairs to her room, collapsing onto her bed.
"You tired?" She asked him, standing and making her way to look in her mirror to figure out how to take off her dress without her mother's help.
Killian's eyes were half shut, so asking him the question was futile. She saw no harm in grabbing her pajamas out of the drawer and struggling to untie her dress, but her attempts failed and another hand and cool metal were quickly placed over her hands, the ties of her dress coming apart.
"I am quite tired, Swan." He whispered against her ear in response, making her shiver. "Which is why I intend to get you out of this dress and into your pajamas so that you can join me in bed and I can hold you."
Emma smiled. "I was serious, Killian." She responded. "Back in Camelot. I do what a future with you. I do want to move in with you. And I want to be able to sleep in the same bed as you and not worry about the fact that my parents and little brother can hear everything we are doing."
"And what is it that we're doing?" Killian teased, teeth running over her earlobe.
She smirked in response. "Well, it's not like we're going to be tired after we sleep for a few hours. And once we wake up, well-"
A voice cut her off before she could go on, her father yelling from downstairs, "You know, just because you're whispering doesn't mean that we can't hear you!"
Emma groaned, leaning her head back against Kilian's shoulder as he chuckled. "Do me a favor, Killian?"
"Anything, love." He responded, arms warm around her waist.
"Promise me we can move into that house sooner rather than later."
She felt him smirk against her neck. "I promise."
Sooner rather than later turned out to be a two weeks later, boxes strewn all across the new house and furniture placed scarcely. The only room they had furnished in a rush was Henry's room, the one that was all the way down the hall from theirs ("Mom, I am not sharing wall with you two. I don't need to be scarred even more at age fourteen."). They both figured that Henry needed some place to sleep, and they wanted the home to make a good first impression, so the room was furnished and ready for Henry only a few days after they moved in, his first time staying the night after staying with Regina.
(He'd claim he didn't sleep on the floor next to his mother and her boyfriend's air mattress the first night being in a new house, but he did).
(Killian thought it was sweet; Henry swore them to secrecy).
The next room they decided to furnish was their bedroom; sleeping on an air mattress was not ideal, nor was keeping their clothes in boxes and strewn across the floor. Still, it wasn't as if the air mattress was stopping them- although they loved having Henry live with them, the freedom they had to christen every part of the house was limited.
(So they just did it before Henry arrived).
(It was likely why no boxes were unpacked).
Their first fight over the house is about what color to make their room; Emma argues for maroon but Killian wants tan. She says that it's a nice color and he says that his color will match more, but she says his color is boring to which he responds that hers is to out there.
The whole thing ends badly, him leaving to get a drink with David while she lies on the floor of their bedroom, gazing around at the too-blue walls of their bedroom that needs to be changed. He comes back a few hours later and wraps his arms around her, lightly kissing her neck before muttering, "I don't care what color out bedroom is, Love. The only thing I care about is that we have an actual bed."
They end up painting the walls tan, getting a dark bedroom set to go with their wooden floors as well as a soft white rug that covers only part of the floor, half of it under the bed and the rest surrounding the area. Their bed spread is dark green and brown and cream, and they have so many pillows she can barely count, but most are discarded to the floor at night.
The kitchen is the simplest; they merely buy a wooden table and a few chairs, their appliances already there. Their living room is what stresses her the most. She's no decorator, never has been, but they're supposed to be having a house warming party in a week and a half and furniture is somewhat of a necessity.
She's done decorating in a week, after bossing her father and boyfriend and son and Robin around for hours so that everything was in the perfect spot. In the end, there's a coffee table with a couch and two chairs surrounding it, another table in the section near the window which quickly becomes the place where the three of them eat. There's a TV and some more tables, a bookshelf and a fireplace, and with her two boys with her and the fire burning, she's never felt more at home.
"We should get a pet." It's Henry who brings it up one night, while he's sitting at the table doing his homework and Emma and Killian are on the couch with their arms wrapping around each other, him drifting off and her reading the book she had started months ago and could finally finish.
Emma's eyes widen and she looks back at her son with wide eyes. "Henry, we just moved in. Is that really the best time to get a pet?"
Henry shrugged. "Yeah. I mean, we've just moved in, so the pet would be just as new as we would. And plus, this house is so big and quiet. Why not bring someone else into the family?"
"Killian," Emma looked to him for support, but he shrugged.
"I don't know, I mean, it's not the worst idea." Killian yawned. "I don't see why not."
Which is exactly why Emma is standing in an animal shelter the next day, watching as Henry gets attacked by husky puppies. Killian is sitting next to them, a girl with grey and white fur and blue eyes as blue as his licking his face while Killian pets her on the head.
Once Henry is no longer being attacked, the puppies off mauling each other, he says, "she likes you," to Killian, whose puppy is now lying in his lap.
"You think?" Killian asks, smiling down at the puppy.
Henry nods. "She hasn't left your side. And she seems sweet. What do you say, Mom? Think this is the one?"
Killian shoots her puppy dog eyes just like Henry and the small, cute puppy lying between the two of them, and she breaks, the three of them walking out of the shelter as four.
Maya, as they have affectionately names her after the dog from Eight Below because Henry loves the movie and she was his favorite dog, is a monster. She runs all around the house and scratches their new floors and eats their furniture and her shoes and pees everywhere. Emma is bitter and still has yet to warm up to the puppy, but she's got Killian and Henry wrapped around her little paw which is growing bigger every day.
Killian especially.
He's home with puppy most days, training her and feeding her and sleeping on the couch with her (which Emma came home to after a few weeks and was extremely angry because that dog is not supposed to be on their brand new couch). He spends all the time in the world with the puppy and pays attention to her, so the puppy clearly has a favorite, much to Henry's discontent.
It's not until they have Maya for almost a month were Emma starts to warm up to her.
Killian and she are lying in bed on early Saturday morning, neither of them having any motivation whatsoever to get out of bed, Henry seemingly still asleep. It's slowly transitioning into fall in Storybrooke, the room as cold as her feet which she attempts to slip between his legs, but he flinches away at the feel of her cold feet against his warm calves.
"You're cold." He groans against her neck.
Emma smiled. "And you're warm. So suck it up and warm me up."
He sighs but does as she says, jumping again as her feet come in contact with his legs. It's her turn to sigh, but this time it's content, and he doesn't complain any further.
Well, she's content until she hears clinking metal and four small paws walking through the hallway, the door being shoved open by her head and suddenly Maya's in the room, her ear perked up and her tail wagging.
"Hey, girl." Killian greeted, patting the bed and welcoming her up. Emma tried to protest but Maya is taking a running stop and jumping up onto the bed before she can say anymore, walking up the bed and lying flat on Emma's chest, tongue finding her face.
"Oh," Emma gasped in surprise, the puppy continuing her assault. "Oh, alright."
She meets Killian's smiling eyes, petting the dogs head as she wags her tail rapidly.
"I think someone wants to get on your good side." Killian commented, reaching out to pet the puppy's back.
Emma giggled. "Well, it might be working."
It's a few weeks after that they have the worst fight they've ever had.
It's late, long after Henry's gone to bed, and the two of them are up whisper screaming at each other, each throwing in from the most cliché fights that a couple could have.
It started when Killian went to take their white wash out of the laundry, finding everything pink. She told him that he did the laundry, so it had to have been him. He told her that he hadn't done the white wash because it was the third Saturday of the month and that was the night that he, Robin and David went out, so he couldn't have done it. She quickly retaliated with, "You put the laundry in right before you left! Maybe if you weren't so eager to leave the house, you would have done it right!'
Killian's jaw clenched. "I'm sorry that I need to get out of the house sometimes! Your father, Robin and I all have other lives outside of each other, you know! That night is the only night where we don't have any responsibilities!"
"Well maybe you should try to be responsible and not screw up the white wash!" Emma's harsh tone set Maya off, the previously sleeping puppy standing up and padding her way into the kitchen, sitting in between the two.
"Well maybe you should do the laundry for once!" Killian snapped back.
He did have a fair point; Emma worked more than he did, him only being needed at his job down at the docks on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, so he did most of the house work. Still, that didn't make her any less angry. "Well I'm sorry that I have to work and support this family while you get to lie around at home!"
"Are you serious?" Killian hissed. "Yes, you work every day and I work three, but you barely have any cases! At least I'm being productive down at the docks!"
Emma scowled. "If you think waiting around and waiting for people who want to rent boats is productive, then sure, I guess!"
"You know that is not all that I do!" Killian retorted. "Besides, all you do at the station is sit around and wait for cases at the station, so you can't really be telling me that what I do isn't helpful."
"At least I'm helping the public!" Emma's voice raised.
Killian responded at the same volume, "You know what, it doesn't matter. If you're the one who's providing all the money for the house, then maybe I shouldn't even be here!"
"Maybe you shouldn't!" Emma snapped back.
"Fine!" Killian shouted, grabbing his coat off the chair and storming out the door, slamming it behind him, Emma's shouted, "fine!" turning into a sob.
Leaning back against the sink, Emma buried her face in her hands, leaning back against the fridge. Maya pranced to sit next to her, placing her head on Emma's lap and lightly licking her hand. Emma barely heard footsteps through her sobs, but the yelling must have woken Henry. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, brown hair in disarray, tired eyes matching his plaid pajamas. As soon as he met eyes with his mother, his eyes softened and he made his way to sit next to her, wrapping an arm around her and allowing her to lean on him.
It was another ten minutes before Henry made a move to stand up, Maya asleep again and Emma's sobs turning into small gasps. He laced his fingers with his mother's, pulling her up and taking her with him up the stairs, helping her into bed before lying down next to her.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked after a moment. Maya had followed them up and was licking the salty tears off Emma's face, but it wasn't stopping them.
Emma shook her head lightly in response. "No. I just want to sleep and pretend it didn't happen."
"Alright." Henry responded. He knew better than to push his mother. "Goodnight, mom."
"Night, Henry." But that didn't mean Emma was going to fall asleep.
