A/N: I know it's unlikely that they were actually holding hands in that photo Ginny tweeted, but damn it let me hope.

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The sun was setting over the horizon, the sky a stunning mixture of blue and orange pastels. Patches of grass peaked through the thin layer of snow along the open field, surrounded by pine trees and mountain ranges far off in the distance. It appeared like a perfect melding of their worlds, he thought: not quite fantastical enough to be in the Enchanted Forest, but far too breathtaking to be in a land without magic.

It was just the two of them, like it always seemed to be nowadays. No one—not even Snow White—was surprised when, without a word between them, the pirate and the princess walked away from the group, side by side, alone.

They had kept a slow pace, no clear destination in mind. The point was to just get away from talks of what their next moves should be; of their best plan of attack. Discovering the Wicked Witch's true identity (and really, the fact that she was Regina's long-lost sister did explain the animosity between the two) had made the threat that much more real. Familial feuds seldom ever ended well. Hook had seen the wrinkles in Emma's brow, the locking of her jaw. He supposed she wanted to be by herself, but one look in his direction as she began her trek insighted him to the exclusive invitation to join her.

Conversation was kept to a minimum, with only the occasional joke or banter to interrupt the tranquility of the late afternoon. Their arms would sway, sometimes inadvertently brushing against one another as shy glances were exchanged. The fog engulfed them, holding them safely within a misty cocoon. He didn't want to end their time together, but upon peaking behind him to see how far they'd traveled, Hook knew it was time for them to turn around. Emma caught his movement, read his thoughts. She didn't want to go either.

She let out a long exhale, the air from her lungs combining with the haze that encompassed her. "I can't… wrap my head around all this," she chuckled. Her arms became animated, a repeated pattern of jutting out then collapsing as she rambled on about the ridiculousness of her life. Of their lives. "I mean, what's next? Humpty Dumpty is my cousin?"

Hook laughed at that, continuing to watch her smile grow despite her frustrations. It was as easy as breathing to be around her, as though they hadn't spent any time apart at all; as if they'd known each other forever.

He had been the only one to remember the entire year that had passed between Emma and Henry's departure from Storybrooke, to finding them in New York City. He'd had more than enough time to contemplate the extent of his feelings for the blonde beauty at his right. It was only logical that he should be so much more sure of his love than she; so much more forward in showing affection.

When it seemed as if Emma's rant was coming to a close, Hook deftly grabbed her thickly gloved hand and, without breaking eye contact, pressed a kiss to the back of it. The gesture was done so quickly, so casually—executed as though on instinct—that Emma could barely react. She looked at him with her mouth parted and a tenderness behind her eyes.

"It's getting late," he said, voice gentle but deep. He brought their hands down again but did not let go. "We should head back."

There had been a shift between them since they arrived back into town all those weeks ago. It was only now, when everyone had been given time to actually process all that had happened, that Hook and Emma began to slowly accept the change in their relationship. For his part, he saw no point in pretending to have ulterior motives for aiding the royal family and their people. While he wouldn't impose himself upon her, he was tired of hiding.

With every kind word, with every longing stare, he made it known: this was all for you.

Behind the sly remarks and flirtations that still existed between them, he was determined to keep another promise he had made long ago, in another realm. He had pledged to have fun; had vowed to lift her spirits. Captain Hook—Killian Jones—was a man of his word.

Emma released her hand from his, their fingers scraping against each other as she strode ahead of him once they neared the rest of the group. David wrapped his arms around his daughter's shoulders, welcoming her back and inducting her into their latest discussion. She gazed back at Hook and watched as he patted Henry's back in passing, joining Tinkerbell by a set of wooden benches.

"I'll see you later?" she called out, already knowing what his response would be.

"But of course," he replied with a flourish. "Anything to please the lady."

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