Fighting.

Emma Swan is an expert. She is practically her own meme; "Fight like Swan".

Except when it comes to fighting with the men in her life; she sucks at those. Even the mildest argument is bound to put her off her tether. Why? Because she always feels that, however small and ludicrous the disagreement, it will inevitably result in her getting abandoned. She's always dealt with life alone, and she's never been too brave when it comes to trusting people, especially significant others; Above all, significant others; MORESO, significant others! Those are the ones that seem to take her in body and soul… and either run away (sometimes leaving her with a kid), or die. Or both. That's right: both.

She knows she's being paranoid.

Yes, amigos…. Being an orphan will do that to you.

For all her bravado and her amazing beauty, Emma Swan is the living, walking proof that self-esteem doesn't know about positive qualities.

So now, she sits alone in her beachfront condo, wondering when the hell that pirate will come home. Or if he will come home at all. She thinks and thinks and thinks...

'All couples fight', she reasons forcefully. 'It's natural, given the differences in our characters.'

Still…

'The man's crazy for me, practically sold his ship, his home… his friggin' enchanted wood clipper ship, practically his woman, which he proudly captained for over three hundred years... he traded her for me; that's gotta mean something, right?'.

He won't leave her… or will he?

'He might; he's a handsome guy. More than one girl would gladly take him in and do the nasty without the need to ask twice.'

But naa… he won't… he wouldn't…. would he?

'Naa. He crossed realms to find me and drowned for me and endured a lip curse for me and watched over my son for me and travelled in time for me and cleaned tears from my eyes and held me when my mom was set alight and punched his old self in the face out of jealousy and…'

Yet, she's still afraid…

She looks out the window overlooking the bay; it's starting to dawn. He's been gone since ten the previous night. Her eyes are red and bloodshot and she sniffs hard as she takes a sip from her cup of tea.

And it was all so silly; it wasn't so much the topic of conversation that brought the blow-out round. The actual topic was actually so lame it was even embarrassing. But the emotions behind it, those were the ones that needed urgent venting.

Or hers did, at least; To Emma Swan, being told she is loved is a direct front. Whoever utters those words is either a liar or a hypocrite. How can anybody love her? How can anyone in the world truly want in sound mind, to be with her? He must be after something. Yeah... Or maybe not. What was there for him to gain when he had deliberately given it all up for her?

Either way it was scary... and that pull-and-push train of thought had driven her to the edge of saying the most hurtful things to him.

She loves him, that's true. No... she adores him. She loves how his eyebrows have a life of their own and how they dance asymmetrically over his eyes... Oh and she loves those as well, bluer than the bluest skies. She loves how his nose slopes into his moustache, she loves the near perfect natural alignment of his teeth and how he crooks his lips for a flirty grin; she loves the way his hair stands on end at the crown of his head; She loves how he flourishes his one hand in random conversation and how he keeps his hooked arm in a constantly bent position at the height of his waist; she loves the velvety, whispery tone of his voice and how his Adam's apple bobs when he laughs aloud; she loves the sound of his voice, the elaborate, old English he speaks, his accent and his culture shock details whenever he's faced with something new; she loves the shape of his fingers and the small brush of fine, black hair that lines each one; she loves how he breathes, how he whispers into her ear, how he touches the cleft of her chin with his thumb as he gazes adoringly into her face. She loves how his brow grows dark and lustful for her in bed but changes completely to the eyes of a saint worshiper in the mornings; She loves his touch on her skin, the feel of his chest hair against her breasts and how he fills her when he's inside of her, a perfect fit; she loves his kiss, a kiss that can be either sweet, tender, rich with adoring love, or insanely wanton and fiery with his desire for her; she loves how he moans her name into her ear as he moves within her, almost like a whispery prayer, how he grits his teeth and tightens his face with pleasure when he fills her with himself; She loves how he makes her reach the stars and makes her drag one of those back from the heavens for him; she loves his breathing after the deed and the sensation of being covered by his body, like a human blanket. She loves him at night... she loves him in the morning... she loves him every breathing second in between.

She... loves... HIM.

She just has a hard time actually coming out with the specific words, especially with him. She knows she can't be without him any more, she's practically Hook-Sick when he's away from her for more than ten minutes. And it's gotten so much worse ever since he was finally asked to move in… and even more sine he proposed to marry her and she said yes.

She looks at the ring on her left hand. It's modest. The former pirate has been downgraded to captain of the coast guard; far cry from the glory of being the most famous pirate… if that can be considered glorious. But still, she knows the love and work he put behind collecting he money to buy it.

Adorable fool.

She touches it and sobs. Why on earth would he want to marry her? She's damaged goods.

Aaaand… she had made the awful mistake of actually saying that out loud. And with it came out the long tale of everything and anything that is and isn't wrong with him, from his leather attire to the name Milah being tattooed on his right forearm to his eyebrow rising a little too high for legal standards and god knows what else.

Absolutely stupid things. No exception.

Stupid but hurtful.

She knows damn well he could have trashed her emotionally. But he did not. Damn lovable idiot gentleman. He only looked at her through those massive cerulean eyes of his, teared up, turned, and walked out the door, not without saying a sad "I suppose that's all there is to say then, Swan..." before exiting.

And now the sun was rising and he was not home.

'Yep. He's dumped my ass. Can't blame him. No one in the known universe would want to willingly endure for me what he's endured, and at the first twist of the nerves I dump a vast heap of shit on him like an industrial dump truck. Way to go, Emma... Really.'

The idea of Killian fills her head. That pirate… How the hell had he managed to skim his way under her skin? When exactly was that eureka moment where she'd fallen head over heels for the Captain? She remembers how her skin rose in goose-bumps at the back of her neck when he kept checking her out in Neverland. Those glares had been the ones to prompt that kiss. Agh, that damn kiss… It was so good at the moment! But no, that wasn't it. That was only the outlet for the huge build-up of sexual and emotional tension they'd both been accumulating since… well, she knew he would be trouble from the moment they climbed that massive vine. She knew he shook her foundations from the moment he asked her if she'd ever been in love; Killian had her wrapped around her finger the instant he took her hand and healed that damn cut.

'Hey, I was unprepared. How the hell was I to know Captain Hook was top-model handsome and nothing like the Codfish Captain from Disney's movie? Life played me with this guy…'

The effects of a long, sleepless night are notorious on her face: Her eyes are swollen and red from crying, she has circles under them, her nose is red and stuffy and her skin looks a little bit… grey. Her hair is slightly matted from tossing and turning and finally just standing up. She's wrapped in a blanket holding her cup and staring out the window.

'Tides are receding. He's probably gone with the tide. Another one bites the dust…'

Her lower lip behind to quiver as she wraps herself tight in that thick, plush blanket and feels as her nose once again blocks itself when another batch of tears emerges. She tries to sip from her tea and nearly chokes. But at least the mild cough drew the tears back.

She sniffs and turns to the bed. Oh, she remembers… They'd been courting for three months, courting, yes, courting, that's what the guy called it… And woo-ing. Such a lingo… anyway, they'd been pretty much dating for three months before it actually happened. He'd hit his head hard on the kitchen counter and nearly passed out. Silly stuff to happen to a cute, stupid, nerdy pirate. So she lent a hand, healed his wound… and somehow wound up on his lap, making out… then on her bed making love. And she remembered the feeling of that first time: It was more than just a couple of people experimenting an orgasm together, it was their souls connecting and intertwining. It was True Love come to life, the fairy Tale crap she'd seen in her mom and dad... only this was hers. And it was wonderful, beautiful, no words enough to convey the significance of it... And it was comfortable and fast and felt like it had happened a million times before, but… no.

'God I'm gonna miss that!' she thinks and sighs.

She opened the closet door and saw his clothes hanging there. The leather trench coat he refused to donate to charity. Sure, he'd taken to wearing something more Storybrooke-friendly, but he was still her bad-boy, chocolate-hearted pirate.

'Killian Jones, you miserable life wrecker...'

She takes his scarf, that same scarf that still held a blood stain from her hand when he healed her beanstalk cut. But it smelled of him, still.

She placed her cup on the bedside table and curled up in a tiny, tiny ball, in a fetal position, holding the scarf to her nose and crying into it. She tried to collect every molecule, every particle of his smell. "I'm sorry, Killian..." She wept into the scarf. "I'm sorry..."

She thought he was lost. She had no way of knowing where he was... and that he had spent the night sitting on a bench at the docks, wondering whether or not this woman he worshiped more than life itself loved him the way he did her... or if she ever would believe him that he did. He could read her like an open book, from cover to cover, epilogue, prologue, index, and every chapter in between. He knew he was more than loved... but damn, the woman made it hard.

More than once he had felt inclined to throw the towel in, but the words "in it for the long haul" , as well as the inner promise he had made to Bae of keeping Emma and his son safe from all harm, always tugged him back to her side, no matter how difficult things got.

If she only stopped shoving him away so harshly...

He sighed deep and took the last swig of rum from his bottle before the friendly figure of Belle appeared, taking an early morning walk by the docks.

"Too early to be sulking, Captain..." She sat beside him.

Killian sighed and nodded. "Indeed, lass... Indeed." He looked at her. "What brings you to this place at such ungodly hours?"

"I walk sometimes..." She nodded. "I like the feeling of the morning breeze when it blows in from the ocean."

"Huh..." He bit his lip and grinned. "You've the heart of a sailor..."

She looked at him. "And you? I suppose I need not ask, Captain. Missing your ship?"

"Aye... sometimes more than others." He huffed pressing his lips.

"Bad night?"

"The worst." He shook his head. "Big fight with Emma."

"I suppose you don't care to talk about the details..."

He shook his head. "Not particularly love, no."

She looked at him. "Well, it must have been quite a row, your eyes are swollen."

He looked to his feet. "You have no idea..."

Belle smiled at him. "You know, last time I heard you say that you were tailing me to kill me."

Killian chuckled. "I wasn't going to kill you, love. Maybe hurt you just a little bit, but not kill you."

"I swear, if you and Rumple hadn't put your damn murderous grudge behind that would actually be scary." She grinned at him. "You did try to kill me, Hook. Twice."

"And, I've apologized ten thousand times since, lass." He tilted his head to her, pouting and looking her from beneath his brow in that ever-so-puppy-like style of his. He then grinned and turned back to the water. "I've not been the same man since... since..."

"Emma?"

He winced. The name he adored actually hurt to hear right now. "Yes. Emma."

"Yes, I must say, you and Rumple have come quite a long way."

He nodded and felt a fresh batch of tears coming on. "And all for naught, it seems..."

Belle touched his shoulder. "Oh, come on, I'm sure it's just a fight. If I know Emma, she's probably in far worse shape than you."

He sniffed as a tear left his eye. "I don't know... she still holds that bloody wall of hers up. My fists are bleeding from trying to knock them down by now..."

"They would be." Belle giggled. "Except you only have one."

A teary-eyed Killian turned his face to Belle and chuckled, closing his eyes as more tears fell. "You're a bloody comedian, who knew?"

Belle placed her arm around his shoulders. "It's just a row, Captain. Have you any idea how many of those I've had with Rumple?"

He nodded and looked at his hook. "I've had my share of those myself, so yes..." He looked back at her. "I can imagine."

Belle looked at his handless appendage. "You know, if he could restore your hand, he would."

"Naa..." He sneered playfully. "I'd stop being Captain Hook. I have become rather fond of this bloody thing." He looked at her. "Made me the man I am today, odd as that may be. So I suppose in the end the old Crocodile actually set me on the right path, after all."

"Now we're talking!" The girl nodded and gave him a friendly tug. "Now, how's about you and I pay a visit to my father? Hmm?"

"Y... your father?" He sneered. "Why would I bloody want to visit your father at six in the morning?"

Belle gave him a knowing grin. "You do know he owns a flower shop, don't you? And being his daughter has its perks. Come on, Hook." She stood and tugged him to his feet. "Enough with your moping, let's get you back on track."

Killian grinned and sighed. "Thank you... Belle."

"You're welcome... Killian." She returned the smirk and took him by the arm as they headed for the flower shop.

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Emma was woken by the sound of keys rustling by the door and bolted to her knees atop the bed.

She was greeted by the sight of lilies... with leather clad legs.

That sight alone brought breath back into her lungs.

"Is there a face behind those things?" She spoke, stuffy-nosed.

"I should bloody hope so..."

He knew she was grinning, even if he couldn't see her. She walked on her knees atop the bed and opened the bouquet to find Killian's face staring back at her.

"I thought roses would be a little too clichéd, love..."

She chuckled a teary chuckle and took the heavy arrangement from his hands, placing it beside her on the bed and turned, still on her knees atop the bed, to hold him to her. "I thought you'd gone..."

He frowned. "Gone? Gone where?"

"I don't know! Gone! To find the Jolly Roger and give the bean back for her, or something..."

"Emma..." He pushed her away enough to hold her face between a hand and a hook, staring into her eyes intently. "Do you honestly believe I'd leave you?"

She shrugged. "Maybe... I was a bitch, I mean, why wouldn't you?" She sobbed. "I've treated you like crap the whole time, even when I knew you were pining for me and.. and... why do you? Why do you pine for me, Killian? Why?" She began to sob even more. "I'm a wreck, I can't even..."

"Emma..."

"No, it's true, it's true, you're this... this friggin' pirate-gone-hero guy who VERY literally goes to the ends of the earth for me, you take all my bullshit, all my insults, and don't think I don't know that I'm hurting you, because I do! And you're still standing here and you even bring me lilies, like you had done something wrong, when I was the one who shot to kill, Jones! What the hell! Are you even normal?" She wept hard.

He grinned and sat beside her, holding out his arm. "Come here, you..."

Emma sniffed and huddled up beside him. "I'm a bitch..." She wept into his shoulder."

"Well... You CAN be a wench when you set your mind to it, darling, but..."

"I'm no savior, I'm just some friggin' car thief that found her second chance and is blowing it! I'm a scoundrel... scoundrel-ess... whatever. I suck, I am no good, I..."

"Ok Swan, as soon as you're done with your pathetic self-pity, I might get a word in edgewise..."

Emma giggled and hugged him around the chest, like a contrite little girl apologizing to her parents. "Why do you? Really, why the hell are you so good to me?"

"Because you deserve it..."

"Yeah, right..." She slid down to lean her head on his lap.

"Swan... you gave ME a chance!" He spoke to her as he caressed her hair. "You do remember what I was before, don't you?"

"A sexy pirate..." She sniffed.

"I'll admit to the sexy part, love..." He grinned. "But I was a murdering villain, I had no heart... or I did, but it was blackened... shriveled, no good. I never thought I'd love anyone ever again, nor that anyone could ever love me. How could anyone love someone who is so self centered and heartless?" He turned around and lifted her up by the shoulders. "And then I met you... and gods know what the bloody hell you did, Swan, but you brought light back into my life. You think I'm not aware of my past? I've quite the tally, Swan, red ink all over it. If you think you have issues, well... " He shrugged and chuckled, rolling his eyes. "...I think it's quite safe to say I can give you quite a run for your gold. But still, I am here... and I must have done something right, because you're here, crying your eyes out for me! There must be something worthwhile in me..."

"Just everything..." She sniffed.

"I'm sure not, darling. I'm just as flawed as anyone. Actually, more."

"And me?"

"You? Of course you're flawed, Swan." He chuckled. "You're persistent, naggy and rude, you have a trigger-happy temper and I heavens know you have good aim when it comes to hitting the bull's-eye where it hurts most, you are stubborn as all burning hell and your sense of self-worth would shame that of a slug. But then..." He smiled at her and cupped her face in his hand. "You don't see yourself the way I do..."

"And what's that?" She pouted.

He smiled and held her to his shoulder. "Beautiful... resourceful, smart... a dedicated mother and a loving daughter, a beacon of light to hold on to, a hero, a savior, a friend, a confidante and a bloody great lover. Need I go on?"

"Please..." she whimpered.

"Right. The light of my life, my morning sun, my future wife, my..."

"Ok, now you're getting cheesy..." She giggled.

"Cheesy?"

"Corny."

"No. I'm a bloody romantic. The problem is, you just can't seem to be able to take a compliment, Lady Swan."

She chuckled and looked up into his eyes. "I'm sorry, Killian. For everything I said."

He returned the gaze and grinned. "And I'm sorry I walked out all night. That was bad form, knowing you, I should have known you'd get your knickers in a terrible twist."

She looked at him and bit her lip; He returned the knowing gaze. "It's on the tip of your tongue, go on..."

"Killian..."

"Go on! Say it! You know you want to."

"Ugh!"

"Trust me, it's like having sex, the first time's always the hardest, but after that you won't be able to stop."

She laughed. "Really..."

"Emma, look at me." She raised her eyes to him and he grinned, looking deep, blue to green, into her own eyes. "I love you." He pecked her lips swiftly. "Now... your turn."

She huffed.

"You can do it." He held her hand."And know I'm not going anywhere, love. I'm right here, I'm never leaving you." He grinned. "Just... say it."

Emma drew a deep breath. This really shouldn't be so hard. Why did she have to wait for those she loved to be close to death for her to utter the magical three words? But he was right. She had to break that layer of ice; the sooner she did, the sooner she'd be able to start believing in herself enough to believe in his devotion. She swallowed and looked into his eyes. "I..."

"Yes..."

"I love... you."

"There." He grinned and placed a strand of her hair behind her ear with his hook. "See? You're still alive, my love, now... once again?"

"She grinned. "I... love you."

"One more time... go on."

"I love you..." She smiled fully. "Hey, it's not so bad."

"Of course not!"

"I love you!" She spoke in a single go. "I love you... I love you, I love you, I love you!" She jumped on him and knocked him back on the bed, saying the words between kisses on his face. "Shit, Killian, you've unleashed a Frankenstein now, I'll never friggin' stop! This feels so good!" And kiss and kiss. "I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you!"

Killian laughed. "And I you."

Having him pinned down, she raised her head and suddenly appeared dead serious. "How good does this feel during sex? You've done it... "

Killian gave her a dark look. "Oh yes! I've not even words to... you have to try it yourself, love. Gives the whole thing a whole new feel to it..."

"Well, no time like the present!" She stood and moved the lilies off the bed, placing them on the chest of drawers beside her, and turned to look at her fiancée as she removed her top before his bewildered stare. "Clothes off, pirate! I love you!"

Yep; he had unleashed and fed a Frankenstein... one he was more than ready to continue feeding.

THE END