We were strangers

On a crazy adventure

Never dreaming

How our dreams would come true

Now here we stand

Unafraid of the future

At the beginning with you


You did this? I want to stop running. I will find you. Well, the Jolly Roger, of course. I'm home. You'll find me? Aye. The words echoed in her ears, a cacophony of sounds and emotions forming a storm in her heart. The tide ebbed and flowed, joy and sadness, pride and guilt. But at the bottom of it all, at the very deepest point within her, love remained.

She looked down to find a cup of hot chocolate that hadn't previously been on the counter now sitting before her. She felt him beside her before turning to look at him, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully analyzed each ingredient shaker on the counter, chewing his lip as he did. Smiling to herself, she waved her hand, making the cinnamon shaker slide forward into his empty hand.

"Ah, that one," he said, turning to sprinkle it over the whipped cream with a bright blush rising in his cheeks. Emma turned then, scanning the diner and realizing for the first time that they were alone. Sometime while she'd lost herself in her own thoughts, the celebration had gone, taken to the homes of every member of Storybrooke who would sleep safely in their beds tonight. Granny often entrusted Emma with closing up when she found herself up into the late hours, and finding no sign of her or Ruby around, she assumed the same held true for this night. "I recall this scene quite well," a low voice whispered in her ear, sending a shiver racing down her spine.

"Oh, I don't know. All that time travel must have messed with my memory. Why don't you remind me?" she teased, answered with that smirk she'd missed on the very night he was referring to.

"Well, I believe you were seated…" he paused, pulling her up to stand and directing her towards the exact stool. "Here." He placed his hand on her shoulder and his hook against the small of her back, pressing gently and leaning forward into her as she sat, his chest against her back. Her breath caught in her throat at his proximity, the warmth of his own breath against her neck, before he suddenly turned on his heels and strode two steps across the aisle to take his seat at the booth. "And I was here," he added, wearing a mask of total innocence, though the mischievous sparkle in his eyes gave him away as she shook her head to regain some semblance of composure herself. Two could play at the game he'd started, and so far, he was winning.

"And after that?" she asked, spinning on the bench to face him, one leg lifting slowly to cross over the other. His eyes raked over every inch of her before returning to meet her gaze, the usual cerulean darkened to more of a navy she thought she recognized from a dream. Or maybe from an encounter with a familiar stranger.

"You know, my memory is a bit hazy as well. Perhaps we should write a new ending." He stood from his seat, and with each careful step the space between them grew smaller, the air more electric. After several agonizing seconds that felt like an eternity, he stood before her, his belt pressed against her knee. He leaned down as she uncrossed her legs, allowing him to close what little space remained until her back was pressed up against the counter, their faces so close all Emma could see were his eyes, two deep pools of sparkling water that appeared black beneath a midnight sky.

They were like magnets, their connection drawing them together. Always pushing, always pulling, until they finally found each other. It was Emma that pulled this time, reaching up to grasp his collar and tugging him forward so their lips met. It began soft and gentle, a smoldering ember…like the kisses preceding it earlier in the night. But suddenly, that ember sparked, a flicker into a flame. Hands tangled in each other's hair before Killian's lips drifted down to the pulse in Emma's neck, evoking a moan from some brand new place of pure bliss deep within her. She could feel her shirt being tugged slowly up her chest and she hesitated, just for a second, a new realization dawning on her. He must have felt it when he pulled back to meet her gaze, concern darkening his features.

"If this isn't right, we can—" he started before she silenced him with her lips.

"I just realized something," she said in disjointed rhythm as she came up for air only to press her lips to his once more. He said nothing, so she separated from him, a grin fighting its way through, and with a wave of her hand, shut the blinds on every window, darkened every light fixture, and snapped the lock on the front door into place.

"That's impressive," he said, the proud gleam she'd secretly been hoping for the first time he'd said those very words glistening in his eyes now. That gleam quickly shifted to one that more closely mirrored his counterpart in the past as he bared his teeth in a sly grin. "You wanna see something really impressive?" he added as she couldn't help but shiver at the mere thought.

"That's supposed to be my line," she quipped as he caught the bottom of her shirt with his hook, slowly sliding it up her chest, the cold metal leaving goosebumps on her now bare skin while she pulled it the remainder of the way over her head and discarded it on the floor. She reached back to unclasp her bra but quickly found herself frozen as Killian leaned down to suck gently on her collarbone, distracting her while he tore open her bra from the front. "Is that how you want to play, Captain?" she asked, answered with the quirk of an eyebrow while she reached forward to slide his jacket and vest off before ripping what few closed buttons he had fastened on his shirt.

They made quick work of their remaining clothing before they both stopped, unable to pull their eyes from the other. Emma ran the tips of her fingers over every tight muscle in his chest, every scar shining beneath the dim light of the moon through the shades. She made a mental note to one day learn the story behind and each and every one, but not tonight. They had all the time in the world to memorize every inch of each other. But tonight was about the present…this moment, this touch, this feeling…because she'd just witnessed with her very own eyes how quickly a moment like this could be stolen away.

Tonight, they explored one another, her lips on the line of his jaw and down on his neck, nipping at his ear as he whispered her name, voice husky and new when he called her the most beautiful sight he'd ever beheld. His hand was on her breasts and over her stomach and her hips before he slipped a finger inside her, already soaking wet and before he added another, pumping. She gasped his name, begging him for more…begging for him with the tightening of her fist in his hair.

She could feel him, hard and warm against the inside of her thigh as he lifted her into the air, her legs wrapping around his waist, and spun around, laying her down into the booth across the aisle and slowly lowering himself down over her…filling her completely. They both held their breath, capturing this single moment and allowing it to consume them. Then he started the slow pull out and in, the rhythm and pace of it agonizing. He knew the affect he was having on her, his dark eyes smoldering as they never left hers, but once more Emma found herself desperate to reclaim the upper hand. She bucked her hips up towards him, eliciting a deep, low moan.

"Emma Swan, you…" he stopped when she lifted herself up again to meet him mid-stroke.

"…wench?" she finished his statement as he threw his head back and barked out a laugh.

"Tease…" he answered, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "Perfect tease." He responded to her physically with a sudden rapid change of pace, moving faster and harder as he stole the breath from her lungs. She clawed at the taut muscles in his back, pinning their bodies ever closer together as she climbed slowly and steadily to her release, teetering just at the edge for moments that felt more like lifetimes, stars beginning to explode before her eyes.

Suddenly the air around them grew thicker, the electric atmosphere growing until she could almost hear it humming. They each screamed the other's name as they fell over the edge together, riding out their climaxes until they lay gasping for breath, limbs tangled together, unsure where one ended and the other began. Killian's head rested on Emma's chest, directly over her pounding heart.

Once it began to slow and she found the strength again, she reached up and ran her fingers slowly through his hair, soaking wet with sweat. He sighed in contentment before lifting his head up to meet her gaze, his eyes back to that familiar shade of blue that had no name to do it justice. He searched her, reading her like the open book that she was to him, before he smiled the most genuine smile she'd ever seen him display in all their time together.

"What?" she asked softly, her fingers still lazily finding their way through his dark locks.

"It seems that I've finally fulfilled my promise to you," he replied as he pushed himself up off of her and they sat up together. She shot him a questioning glance as he brushed his fingers absentmindedly up and down her back. "I won your heart, Emma." She wanted to respond with a witty retort, something playful…something very much them. But she didn't…because this moment called for something more. Instead, she took his hand in hers and placed it on her chest.

"Aye," she answered softly.

"That's supposed to be my line," he replied with a smile, leaning in once more to press the softest of kisses to her lips.

"You know, I'd say we're getting pretty good at this rewriting history thing, and aside from needing to scrub the counter…and this booth…" she paused for effect as he chuckled softly. "There's just one thing missing."

"And what exactly is that, my love?" he asked, the addition of "my" stopping her heart for a moment. She turned to look at him, unable to contain the very same smile that had been threatening to burst out of her once before, and waved her hand. He didn't have to look down to realize that his hook was now dangling from the coat rack in the corner…again…and after a second's silence between them they both burst into a fit of laughter that had them struggling to breathe for the second time in minutes before Killian's expression sobered, his piercing gaze speaking volumes that she knew would one day become spoken words between them. But for now, this was more than enough. "A perfect ending," Killian concluded aloud.

"No," she answered, taking his face in her hands and gazing deep into the oceans looking back at her. "It's a perfect beginning."