Written for scribblecat (because she asked and I can never say no, lol) to go with her beautiful new piece of artwork. The story is vaguely connected to There's a First Time (for everything) but you don't have to read that one first to understand this one.
"Come on, let's go to Granny's. I'm freezing."
He scoffs lightly. "And here I thought you were a tough lass."
"I'm not." One dark eyebrow raises at that and she quickly goes on. "I mean, I am, but come on. What's so important that you can't show me tomorrow?" She bumps her shoulder against his. "You know, when it's warmer."
They're sitting on the stern of the Jolly Roger where it's moored at the docks. Shoulder to shoulder, the town behind them, the open sea and sky before them. It's silent and beautiful and she loves being here with him, but damn, it is cold.
"Well, I know you're the Savior, love, but I doubt even your magic would let you appreciate the stars while the sun is high in the sky." He smiles down at her, his bright eyes soft and cajoling, and she can no more say no to him than she can to Henry when he gives her the same look.
"God, alright."
"There's a good girl." Sliding his arm around her, he pulls her flush against his side, the solid warmth of him instantly providing a buffer against the chill night air. "Now, our astronomy lesson was interrupted last time, so-"
Despite the cold, she feels her face flush with warmth. The last time (the first time) he'd shown her the stars, they'd ended up in his bed. "And whose fault was that?"
The arm around her tightens, and she feels the curve of his hook press against her hip. "Surely there's no need to assign blame when the outcome was such a welcome one?"
Grinning, she rests her cheek on his leather-clad shoulder, which should be cold but it's not, it's warm instead, like the coat itself is an extension of his body. "God, you are so full of yourself."
"Only with you, Swan." She opens her mouth to rebuff this outrageous bending of the truth, but he's already gesturing towards the darkened sky above them. "Now, pay attention."
She tries to do just that, she really does, but the warmth of his body and the soothing lilt of his voice soon have her drifting, her focus becoming fuzzy and thick with a contented weariness that she only seems to feel around him. It's only when she feels the heat of his breath at her ear, his mouth close, that she realises she's almost fallen asleep on his shoulder. "Are you still with me, love?"
"Just resting my eyes," she mutters, and his silky chuckle washes over her. Blinking, she tilts back her head. Freezing her ass off aside, he's right. It's a gorgeous night. The sky is beautiful, black and purple and clear, dotted with some of the brightest stars she's ever seen. Almost as bright as the stars in the Enchanted Forest, she thinks, and suddenly wonders if he misses the familiar skies of his own realm. He's here with her, by her side as he promised he would be, his days filled with new experiences and strange customs, and the sudden hot prickling in her eyes isn't entirely from the cold. He's given up a lot to be with her, and yet he never speaks of it.
"When Mary Margaret and I fell through the portal, everything was just so damned weird," she starts softly, letting her gloved hand rest on his thigh. "You know, the whole ogres and giants and witches and roasted chimera thing."
He puts his hand over hers where it lays on his thigh, sliding his fingers between hers. "Don't forget dashing pirates, Swan."
Her snort of laughter is hardly ladylike, but they're way past first-date behaviour here. "As if I could." She turns their joined hands over, exposing his bare palm (seriously, how is he not freezing?) to the explorations of her other hand, her fingertips dancing over the work-roughened skin. "The thing is, when we camped at night, when the stars came out, that's the only time that I didn't feel so lost." She darts a glance at him (ridiculous to feel shy after everything they've shared, but there it is) and squeezes his hand. "Is it like that for you, too?"
"Aye." His sigh is heavy, almost wistful. "I've travelled to many a realm, love, and there is beauty in all of them, but I can't deny that there are times when a man craves a familiar sky above his head."
There's a lump in her throat, and she has to swallow hard so her words don't sound strangled. "Do you ever wish you could go back?"
He looks down at her, her expression one of tender exasperation. "You'rehere." Dipping his head, he touches his mouth to hers, all cool lips and warm tongue. The kiss is soft and slow and sure, a lazy tasting of her mouth that warms her through to her skin and heats her blood and has her suspecting they're on track for a repeat of their last stargazing attempt. "Why would I wish to be anywhere else?"
She stares at him, suddenly afraid of the words burning the tip of her tongue, words she has no business speaking, not yet, not when this is still so new and fragile. "You've given up a lot."
"I've gained far more than I've lost." His teeth flash white against his dark beard, his eyes glittering with something that looks a lot like joy. "It's a fair trade as far as I'm concerned, Swan."
"I, uh-" She breaks off, her words dying in her throat, because she loveshim, loves him in all the ways she's ever wanted to love someone, and it's overwhelming and blindsiding, and the thought of speaking the words out loud is too much. She's not ready, not yet, but she will be, one day. She clears her throat, then pats his knee. "You were saying something about unchartered waters?"
Without looking at him, she can hear the knowing smile in his voice. Bastard. "Aye."
"Tell me?" She presses closer, resting her head on his shoulder once again, and watches the graceful sweep of his right hand as he talks of myths and legends and ancient sailors battling huge sea beasts in unchartered waters, and she can hardly believe this is her life.
A long while later, after he's finally admitted that the night chill should be heeded, he helps her to her feet, keeping a tight hold of her hand as she sways slightly. "Your boy tells me that there are reports of something called the aurora borealis possibly taking place in a few weeks' time, a day's sail to the north of here."
His face is filled with unabashed enthusiasm, and she grins at him. "Well, they do call them the northern lights."
"Would you like to see them?" He gestures vaguely towards the town behind them. "You and your lad?"
As always, no matter how many times it happens, his kindness still manages to take her by surprise. "You'd take us to see it?"
As always, he looks mildly affronted by her surprise. "Of course."
She wraps her hands around his arm, pulling it tight against her chest. "Henry would love that."
He bows his head, his mouth brushing the curve of her ear. "And what about you, Swan?" He dips his head lower, and she feels the gentle nip of his teeth at her throat, just beneath her jaw, just where her pulse is hammering madly. "Would you love it, too?"
She arches her neck, giving him better access to do what he does best, glad he's still got hold of her because her legs are suddenly very unsteady. "What do you think?"
His laugh is soft and wicked and has a flutter of heat curling between her legs in a heartbeat. "I think it's time to get you into a warm bed."
His bunk below deck is much closer than Granny's, and though the air in the Captain's Quarters is thick with cold, that doesn't seem to matter once they've stripped each other bare and are entwined beneath the layers of bedclothes. He kisses her again and again, telling her in soft murmurs that she's beautiful and amazing and he still can't believe she's here with him, and when he finally pushes himself inside her, a long, deliciously thick slide of heat and flesh that takes her breath away, she knows he has shown her more than one way to see stars.