Killian noticed it a few weeks ago.

He, Emma and Henry were rushing out the door to meet up for some dinner at Granny's. They were running a bit late. That couldn't be helped though, Emma had walked into the bathroom in naught but her underthings while he was in the shower. What else was a pirate to do but take advantage of the situation.

It was worth being a bit late.

"Can you grab my phone Kil?" Emma called from downstairs as he was buttoning up his waistcoat.

Killian snatched Emma's phone from the dresser, he must have hit a button in doing so, because it lit up in his hand, and when he turned it over and found his likeness looking back at him. Emma had taken a picture of the two of them and Henry. He hadn't thought much of the 'selfie,' as she had called it then. There was something endearing about Emma wanting to see his face so much she set it on something she looked at multiple times a day.

A few days later she surprised him again.

Killian was organizing their bedroom a bit, he liked having his home ship-shape, a remnant from his military training. Killian opened Emma's closet to toss in her boots and hang up a few items she had abandoned, when he was surprised to see a picture tacked to the inside of the door.

It was a portrait Emma had taken of them both. He remembered that event quite well. It was a Sunday afternoon and with Henry at Regina's and the house to themselves, and nothing to do, they had enjoyed a playful lovemaking session. Emma had been sitting up on their bed wearing his shirt, while he rested his head on her bosom. They had pushed the windows open to enjoy the breeze. The air was crisp but their combined body heat plus the bright sun that enveloped them had made them both sleepy and quite comfortable. Emma had answered a quick text from Regina regarding dinner, and then instead of putting the phone down, she had held it at arm's length and told him to look at the camera.

Emma wore more jewelry than she used to, she used to wear just her circle necklace and plain leather bracelet. Now she was having more fun with "girly stuff" as she referred to it. Regina and Henry had given her ruby earrings, Killian had bequeathed her a few treasures, and Snow had gifted her with a pretty silver locket. One evening while she was in the shower, the locket was sitting open on her nightstand and tucked into the tiny frame was a picture of him. It was a shot of him and Henry from a day spent sailing on the Jolly.

One day his cell phone had gone missing, after being unable to located the damned thing all day, Emma deposited it into his lap with a mischievous smirk. When he looked at it later, he was more than delighted to find several delicious portraits of his love meant for his eyes only.

"Boudoir photography" she'd called it.

More and more pictures were created as they began to make their house into a home.

Killian had thrown out the large black and white picture of birch trees that the Dark One had hidden squid ink behind. He hated that picture, and not just because it was tainted by bad memories. It was cold, bleak, and austere. Killian wanted their home to be warm and comforting. He wanted it to be their home, a reflection of them and their life together. Emma apparently felt the same way, as one day he had come home from the docks with Henry to find a new painting hanging on the wall.

Where the stark birch trees had been, there was a painting of a ship at sunset. The warm gold and greens touched something deep inside the pirate, and when Emma asked him if he liked it, her words had been cut off by a kiss that left her gasping for breath.

Of course he bloody liked it, she had bought it with him in mind, with their home in mind.

Since then they had acquired two more such paintings, Then soon after Emma had taken to supplementing the space with more portraits. There were mostly pictures of Henry, and of Killian, but also ones of Snow and David, even some of Regina. Some black and white and serious. Some colorful and smiling. Killian had found books about photography on their shared kindle cloud, and a few stacked on their coffee table from the library.

Killian grew up in a world where the only portraits were those created by hand from parchment and charcoal. It was a luxury of the greatest sense to have pictures painted in their their likeness. He was lucky to have a few sketches of loved ones.

He felt far luckier now.

"Smile, sailor."

It was a quiet afternoon and the sun was shining after a brief but fierce downpour. They had once again thrown open the window to let in some fresh air.

Killian was laying on his back enjoying his view of Emma was on top of him clad in just her silky shorts and tank top. He merely quirked an eye and smirked at her as Emma snapped the photo.

"Love, If I may be so bold, you seem to have developed a bit of an attachment to these portraits."

Emma's smirked matched his, "So you've noticed that huh?"

"Aye. May I inquire about this new found past time?"

"Do you remember when the Snow Queen was around and i showed you that box?"

"I just saw the look on your face when you saw that pic of me and Neal, and I realized I didn't have any pictures of you." She paused for a moment. "And I mean, sometimes I just want to see your face." She smiled as she continued.

"Also, more than once, photos have helped reveal the truth. I found the pictures of me and Henry in Henry's old camera in New York, and those pictures of me and Ingrid?"

She reached down and laced their fingers together. "If anything happens to our memories, I want proof that you and I belong together."

Killian couldn't argue with that.

A few weeks later Emma would give him the very best portrait of all.

The blurry black and white photo of their unborn daughter, Hope.