A/N: I did my best with a request from a dear anon; hope it makes you as happy as you made me with your kind message, nonnie : )

If the captain's quarters of the Jolly Roger wasn't beginning to look a lot like home, it was sure beginning to feel like it.

Emma loved her pirate—and she loved spending their quiet moments here. What wasn't there to love? The desk where he charted out his many journeys, and the journeys he wished to take her on, free of curses and giants and responsibility. He had many random baubles and he'd tell her of all the things he admired before he met her. There was the bed, her favorite place, where her head would find comfort on his chest, his hook would wrap around her waist, and he'd kiss the top of her head.

She was curled into him like that now, the silk sheets wrapped around them, as her hand trailed up and down his body, coming to rest at the various scars there. She ran her finger over one, wondering how it came to be. What man bested him, and why?

But she knew it didn't matter why, it would never matter why, because whatever it was, it led him to the here and the now—led him to her.

"What's wrong, love?"

"Nothing; I'm just seeing the result of your pirating days." She smiled up at him.

"Alas. It's left me a bit broken here and there."

Emma moved to support herself on her arm, the sheets threatening to fall, looking down on him. "Broken? Killian, you are far from broken."

"Oh, I know." His smile twisted into a knowing smirk. "Especially from the way you were moaning my name earlier."

Emma's cheeks reddened much to Killian's obvious content. She should have expected as much, because of course she hadn't been thinking that.

So his sea faring days had left him scarred. What mattered to Emma was that he was alive. Even though she'd been speaking of his scars, she knew his more obvious ailment left him with insecurities. And it was important to her that he knew she still considered him perfect.

Killian saw the passionate intensity that clouded Emma's eyes, and sat up with her. He lifted his hand to move her golden hair behind her ears. "Why so serious, love?" He paused, leaning over to whisper in her ear, "Is it because I made do on my promise?"

When I jab you with my sword, you'll feel it. Hell, he didn't even have to say it. He sat watching her, absolutely smug, while she composed herself, failing to just will away the red that colored her cheeks.

"Because..." She kissed him, and pulled him up so they were leaning together against the headboard. "I love you."

He smiled at her. "And I love you."

She leaned her head against his shoulder, and her hand found rest at his brace. Her thumb ran over it, back and forth. "It feels really nice saying that, without impending doom threatening us."

"Aye, Storybrooke has its perks but it can be a bit much, can't it?"

"Now do you understand why I was so hell bent on New York?" Her eyebrows were raised, but she was smiling all the way.

"Swan, you would have married a monkey. A flying monkey at that. Fortunately you had me to guide you."

"So confident, are you?"

"Why shouldn't I be, love?" He gestured toward the bed, making Emma laugh, and in her moment of weakness he pulled her on top of him.

"Oh, you should be." She licked her lips. "You definitely should be." She pulled on the charms of his necklace to bring him into a kiss.

When they were both breathless he said, "You really have a thing for my necklace today, love." He paused, trailing his hook along her back, mischief in his eyes. "And this."

It sent shivers down her spine. "Of course I do, Killian." She threaded her hand through his, taking in the silver band around his thumb, the red gem on another finger. Like everything else, her wore his rings well. Damn pirate. "It's part of you. And as someone once told me," she looked into his eyes, "I'm a fan of every part of you."

She left him love-struck, as usual. "What did I do to deserve you, Swan?"

"You—"

But Killian silenced her with a kiss. If there was anything about Killian, it was that he still remained bashful about his status as a hero. When he pulled away from her, he gave her a look as if to say, You were saying?

Instead of speaking, she kissed the scar on his cheek. She tossed the silk sheets aside, getting lost in him. She would kiss every scar on his beautiful body. And he would know: he was her happy ending, just as she was his.