Disclaimer: Characters from and any references to "Once Upon A Time" belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing with the characters.

Warning: Story rating changed to M


"Would you like something to drink?"

Killian turned to Emma, his gaze having flitted to the corner by the fireplace where Scarlet was coloring. He shook his head and swallowed hard. "No, Swan," he said, his voice shaking.

She nodded, understanding that this was the first time he was seeing a child he hadn't even known existed. Emma went to the small kitchen and got herself a cup of water. After drinking the whole thing, she moved back to the little living room where Killian was sitting on an armchair, Scarlet holding up a piece of parchment she had drawn on.

"It's a ship, like the pirate ships that made port here today."

Killian took the parchment gently from her hand and stared down at it in awe before his gaze shifted back to her. "It's beautiful, Scarlet."

"Thanks," she giggled, blushing as she ran over to Emma. "Look, Momma."

Emma looked down at the drawing and smiled wide. "It's beautiful, sweetheart. Do you want to show Killian that drawing you did of me yesterday?"

Scarlet's eyes lit up and she nodded before running into her bedroom.

Emma came to sit on the sofa beside Killian's chair. "She's very talented," she murmured. "She's even doing portraits now."

"Aye...?" His words trailed off as Scarlet hurried back into the room, showing him the drawing she had done of Emma in charcoal. She really was talented for her age.

"Wow," Killian said, his voice giving away his awe. He looked back up at his daughter. "You truly are amazing."

Scarlet blushed once more and ducked her head, Emma smiling at her daughter's humbleness.

They spent the next little while looking at some more of Scarlet's drawings as she asked Killian every question she could think of.

"Momma doesn't have a lot of friends. So I'm happy I got to meet you," Scarlet said as she colored in the black of Killian's hair on the drawing she was doing of him.

Emma blushed and when Killian's eyes met hers, she quickly looked away before looking at the time.

"Sweetheart, it's past your bedtime," Emma said, running her hand down her daughter's long, blonde hair.

"I know," she sighed, not taking her eyes off the drawing. "Just one more finishing touch."

Emma watched in wonder as Scarlet colored in the blue of his eyes before she ripped the page out of the book and handed it to Killian.

"For you," she said triumphantly. "My mom's friend."

Emma's heart clenched as she wrapped her arm around Scarlet and hugged her close. Killian looked down at the drawing before lifting his gaze back to Scarlet.

"Thank you, milady," he said softly. "I'll cherish this for all my days."

Scarlet giggled. "You talk funny."

Emma laughed and patted Scarlet's shoulder. "Bedtime."

Scarlet sighed and closed the book, grabbing her pencils and throwing them in her pouch. After she collected her things, she stood and turned to face Killian. "Will you be here tomorrow?" she asked, hopefulness tinging her voice.

Killian opened his mouth but said nothing. His uncertain gaze turned to Emma. She nodded and stood up, putting her arm around her daughter.

"Killian is a very busy man, Scarlet," Emma said. "Perhaps you can see him again. Would you like that?"

Scarlet nodded before she lunged herself at Killian, momentarily taking him off guard as she hugged him. He returned it, wrapping both arms around her and running his hand down her hair.

"Goodnight, Killian," she said upon pulling away. "I hope I'll see you again."

"You will," he said, standing up and smiling down at her.

Scarlet nodded, pleased, before kissing her mother and bidding them both goodnight. Once she was in her room with the door closed, Emma turned back to Killian.

"I don't know about you," she sighed, "but I could use a drink."

Killian smirked, reaching into his coat pocket and brandishing a silver flask. "You're a woman after my own heart, love."

Emma's heart fluttered at his words, but she covered it up with a smile and roll of her eyes, taking the flask from him and unscrewing it. The alcohol burned her throat and caused her face to contort slightly.

"Rum," she hummed. "Your favorite?" She handed the flask back to him and sat down on the sofa again.

"Aye," he smiled, this time sitting on the sofa beside her.

Emma shifted slightly, angling her body to face him. "Did you mean it?"

Killian raised an eyebrow at her as he took a swig of rum.

"That you'd see her again?" she clarified.

Killian swallowed the rum and lowered the flask, keeping his eyes on it. "Only if that's alright with you."

Emma sighed and shook her head, resting her elbow on the back of the sofa, placing her head in her hand and taking the offered flask back. She thought for a moment as she took a couple large gulps.

"She's your daughter. I'd never keep you from her. But only if..." She trailed off, not wanting to sound insecure. She took another large gulp of rum before meeting his questioning eyes.

"Only if..." he prodded gently.

She shook her head again. "Only if you want to. You don't owe us anything, I just...I want it to be clear. You don't have to do anything." When she finished speaking, she handed the rum back to him and stared down at her lap.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him shift, and then he was kneeling down in front of her, one hand hesitantly going to her knee. Emma collected herself before looking up at him.

"Let me be clear, Swan. I don't ever do anything I don't want to do." He paused, his eyes searching hers, pleading with her to believe him. "I want to be here. With you. With Scarlet."

"You do?" she asked shakily, tears springing to her eyes.

"Aye." He reached forward and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"For how long? Until you have to leave again?" She internally winced at the accusatory tone in her voice, but that didn't seem to deter him.

"For as long as you'll have me."

Emma stared into his blue eyes, and all she could see was his sincerity. She let out a shaky breath. "But...you're a Captain, aren't you? What about your men?"

"Don't worry about that, Swan," he murmured. "Leave that to me, aye?"

She smiled slightly and nodded, biting her lip as she looked down at her lap again. "Um...what about some more rum?"

He raised an eyebrow at her and lifted the flask. She giggled and shook her head, standing up and moving to the kitchen.

"Granny left this here a while back," she called, before moving back to the living room with a large, full bottle of rum and two short glasses.

Killian chuckled as they sat back on the couch and she poured them each a glass.

"Who is this Granny?" he asked before taking a sip.

"She's a friend. She and her daughter, Ruby, have been here for me since...well, since Scarlet was born. I don't know what I'd do without them." She ducked her head and took a drink.

"I should have been there," he whispered, and Emma turned to him, her mouth falling open at the look of distress on his face.

"Don't do that," Emma murmured, moving closer until their legs touched. She placed a hand on his thigh. "Don't beat yourself up about this. We were both young..."

"Still, I—"

Emma cut him off with a kiss to the lips, firm yet gentle. He was taken aback for a moment before he finally responded, his hands weaving into her hair as his mouth fought for dominance. They kissed like that for several minutes before they pulled back, both of them panting for air.

"I said, don't," she murmured and he smiled and leaned in once again.

OOOOOOO

Emma and Killian were sitting on the sofa several hours later, a completely empty bottle of rum between them as they continued to share stories, things they'd each missed over the last ten years.

Killian was just finishing telling a story about his first mate, Smee, when the topic of taverns and wenches came up, not for the first time. But now, with the rum coursing through her veins, Emma mustered the courage to ask what she wanted.

"So...how many?" she asked with a quirk of her eyebrow, swirling what was left of the amber liquid in her glass.

"How many what, love?" he murmured sleepily, his head resting on the back of the sofa.

"How many wenches have you fucked?"

Killian choked—on air—sitting up and coughing a few times until it was under control. He looked back at her hesitantly. "Swan..."

"I just want to know," she shrugged, trying to play it off like it was no big deal, even though her heart was in her throat. "Just curiosity, I suppose."

"Why the bloody hell would you want to know something like that?"

"That many, huh?" she sighed, standing and grabbing the empty rum bottle, taking it to the kitchen sink. "Yeah, I guess I don't want to know. Just like you probably don't want to know how many men I've been with," she couldn't help but snark, knowing how immature it was.

She heard Killian stand from his spot on the sofa, heard his glass being placed on the table, hard, before she felt him behind her, his hands going to her waist. She went rigid for a second before her body relaxed into him, his lips moving into her hair, to her neck.

"How many?" he murmured, so quiet she almost didn't hear him.

"How many what?" she asked coyly, a small smile on her face.

She gasped when he turned her around, pressing her back into the counter, his lips a hairsbreadth away from her own. "How many men have you let into your bed?" he whispered, his voice sending a shiver down her spine.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she sassed, tilting her head to the side. "What does it matter? You were gone. Probably had your fill of a new woman every night."

"Swan..." he whispered, his voice trailing off on an exhale.

"Does it make you crazy to think about? Me with another man? Kissing him like I used to kiss you, touching him like I used to touch you..?" She leaned forward, her lips brushing his ear and he shivered. "Killian. How many women did you make yours just like you did with me? How many women did you have like you had me...? How many did you touch...kiss..."

"None."

Emma snorted and pulled back. "Right." She pushed his chest, but he held onto her.

"It's true, Swan. I've been with other women, aye, but I never touched any of them the way I touched you, never kissed any of them the way I kissed you." His voice dropped impossibly lower as he leaned forward, brushing a kiss against her rapidly beating pulse. "Never spent hours pleasuring them, loving their body, never have I been with anyone the same way I've been with you." He pulled back, leaving her a panting mess. "Does that answer your question, love?"

Emma didn't know what to say, how to respond. Before she knew what she was doing, she grabbed his coat lapels and pulled him forward, her mouth fusing with his. He reacted instantly, one arm wrapping around her waist as the other wove into her hair. His tongue traced her lips and she opened gladly, moaning at the taste of him, a taste so familiar yet foreign.

They stumbled in the kitchen for a while before they eventually made their way down to her bedroom, making sure to shut and lock the door behind them.

Once they were alone, they wasted no time shedding each other of their clothing. His long coat was first, dropping to the ground in a heap as he fought to undo the ties of her dress, his lips placing wet kisses down every inch of skin he exposed.

Emma fumbled with the buttons of his vest, eventually cursing and ripping it open, her fingers threading through the delicious chest hair that had grown more manly and plentiful since the last time she'd seen him.

They stumbled onto the bed, ridding themselves of the remainder of their clothing until they were bare and Emma was straddling him, her slick wetness sliding along his hard, thick length, making him moan and buck his hips up into hers.

"I missed you," she whispered on a gasp, his hands grabbing at any tender flesh he could. "I missed you so much."

"Emma," he moaned as she shifted on his lap once more.

She whimpered as he took himself in hand, and watched as he guided himself inside her. She sunk down on him with a moan, mindful to not be too loud as her hands went to his chest for balance.

He stared up at her in awe, his hands moving to her breasts, massaging, making her rotate her hips over his. They moved slowly at first, lips fused together much like their lower halves, until they couldn't hold back any longer and Killian flipped them over so he was on top. He grabbed her hip in one hand, the other braced on the bed beside her head as he began moving in earnest, drawing moans and gasps of pleasure from her.

"Gods, love," he choked against her neck. "Gods, but you feel magnificent. So tight and wet for me. Just like I remember."

She whined at his words, her hips bucking up to meet his, gasping when his thumb found her clit and began rubbing.

"Oh, aye, you like that don't you?" he murmured huskily. "So wet for me, love. Come, Emma. Come all over my cock."

His words were her undoing and he had to cover her mouth with his own to stifle her cries as her back arched off the bed and she came harder than she ever had in her entire life, her head dizzy.

Killian's mouth latched onto her nipple as he continued moving inside her before he groaned, and with a hoarse call of her name, she felt him release inside her, his back tensing under her fingers. He slowed down to a stop, his body shaking against hers, before he slowly pulled out and shifted to lay down beside her, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her to him.

Emma rested her head on his chest, her fingers combing through his chest hair as she caught her breath. Killian, too, was panting. He rubbed a hand down his face, his chest rising and falling with his harsh breaths.

"Gods, you're even more glorious than I remember," he muttered in awe, more to himself.

She rested her chin on his chest and smiled at him. "You're not too bad yourself, Captain."

He smiled devilishly at her and quirked an eyebrow. "Aye?"

She giggled, leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss to his soft lips. "Aye."