A/N: This is the first in a series of deleted scenes for The House Boy. There was so much I wanted to include of them learning to live and grow together before they got engaged, but the fic was already very long, and there just wasn't room. So I'm including them to give you glimpses of what went on in their life together between Valentine's Day and their engagement. I hope you enjoy them!

Deleted Scene #1: Baby Fever

The harsh florescent glow of the boutique's lights were giving her a headache, Emma Swan decided, flicking through a pile of baby onesies that were on sale. Or maybe it was the somewhat spastic way her mother alternated between chattering about the new baby on the way, and Emma's relationship with her boyfriend, Killian Jones. Whichever one it was, she definitely needed some aspirin, Emma decided, digging in her purse for the little bottle of ibuprofen she kept there for cramps or the lingering headaches that dealing with the mishaps of Storybrooke's unusual residents often gave her. Popping a couple of the pills in her mouth, she swallowed with difficulty, her throat rebelling against the dryness of the pills, and returned the bottle to her purse.

"So what do you think of this one?" Mary-Margaret held up a tiny pink cotton onesie embroidered with daisies.

"Little early to be picking out something so...pink, isn't it? I mean, it will be months before you know for certain what gender the baby is."

"Not that long," her mother shrugged. "Only about two and a half months."

"I still can't believe it took you so long to figure out you were pregnant," Emma teased. "All the sickness, being so tired, your coat not fitting..."

"Pregnancy in the Enchanted Forest was different," her mother defended herself. "You didn't have pregnancy tests to find out that sort of thing when you were a little late. People weren't hyper-vigilant about it like they are now." She shrugged, placing the onesie back on the shelf with a frown. "Besides, I'm always a little tired around the holidays, so I didn't think much about it. And it was winter, so the kids are passing around a lot of germs, and people were making cookies and treats." She laid a hand on her slightly rounded belly. "I just thought I'd put on a few pounds."

Emma smiled. "Well, when you put it that way, I guess it makes sense, sorta."

"What about you, Emma?" her mother said suddenly, turning to her with a thoughtful expression, clutching the strap of her purse with her right hand. "Have you and Killian discussed more children?"

"Wait, what? What the hell?" she choked, caught off guard. "Mom, it's been like a matter of weeks since he's moved in!"

A slow smile spread across her mother's face, until the other woman was fairly beaming at her. "You called me 'Mom'!" she sniffed, her eyes welling up with tears. She threw her arms around Emma, hot wet tears soaking through the shoulder of Emma's shirt. "Oh, Emma! I'm so happy!"

Not that you could tell, Emma thought, with the way she was carrying on. Crazy pregnancy hormones, she snorted to herself. She gave her mother's shoulder an awkward pat. "Uh, yeah...no problem," she managed, uncomfortable with the sudden outpouring of affection from the other woman. Emma hadn't intended to say the word, hadn't given it any forethought at all. It had just slipped out, without warning.

When the time is right, the words will come easily. Killian's words echoed in her head, and Emma smiled to herself, even as she felt a surge of annoyance. Did the man always have to be so infuriatingly right about everything?

Her mother released her, wiping at her eyes with a sniff. "So?" she asked after she'd managed to compose herself. "You were saying?"

"About what?" Emma hedged, paying careful attention to a set of colorful baby bibs.

"Have you and Killian talked about having kids?"

"Not really," she answered, neglecting to mention that she had been thinking about the subject a lot, ever since she'd received the news that she would be getting a sibling. "I mean, it's a little soon, don't you think?" she pointed out. "He just moved in."

"But he gave you that," her mother said, giving the emerald necklace that Emma wore a significant look. "That seems fairly serious."

"Well, he is a pirate," she pointed out. "He has a thing for flashy jewelry."

"I wouldn't call that flashy," her mother said, giving the necklace a considering look. "More like elegant. Where did he buy it?"

"He didn't," she admitted, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. "It was his mother's."

Mary-Margaret's face lit up like it was Christmas morning. "His mother's?" She shook her head and gave Emma an Are-you-kidding-me-how-can-you-be-so-dense? look. "That's pretty serious."

More than her mother knew.

"So how do you feel about it?" Mary-Margaret asked, turning her attention back to a rack of sleepers. "Is it something you'd want someday?"

"I-I, well," Emma stammered, feeling like a cornered animal, "I mean, he knows I want to, someday." Her mother flashed her a strange look. "I mean, he said it was his mother's engagement present, so the topic kind of came up. I mean, it's on the table, but-"

Her mother smirked, laughing softly. "Emma, I was talking about babies again."

"Oh." Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

"You two have talked about marriage, then?"

"I-well...kind of? We're thinking about it."

"Hmm," her mother said, eyeing her sidelong. "That's not how I heard it from David."

"What do you mean?" Emma furrowed her brow in confusion.

Her mother shrugged, selecting a set of three sleepers in neutral tones of yellow and green. She laid them in the cart. "David said that when he talked to Killian about it, Killian seemed pretty definite that a proposal was in the future." She put another set of sleepers in the cart, white with pale blue trim.

So that was what her dad had been discussing with Killian when he'd moved into Emma's house. It made sense now. "Wait, did he try to pressure Killian into this?" She fingered the necklace around her neck, growing cold at the thought.

"Oh, Emma. If it had been your father's choice, Killian would have proposed and married you all in ten minutes before he moved into the house, just for propriety." She pushed her cart closer to a different rack of clothing. "Killian told him you'd want more time, that he didn't want to push things before you were ready. But he does intend to ask someday. I guess that's why I wondered about kids. David made it sound like a betrothal was only a matter of time."

He did, did he? she thought with a spark of annoyance. Perhaps she'd just have a little talk with her father. And Killian, for that matter. Granted, her boyfriend hadn't had a lot of choice in talking about the matter the way her father had cornered him, but-

"Emma," her mother gently reproached, "don't be mad at your father. He just wants to protect you, make sure that you aren't hurt again." She paused, her cheerful expression faltering. "Like Neal hurt you." She sighed. "I was so wrong about Killian."

"Don't," she told her mother.

"But Emma-"

"Look, I'll spare David and Killian a lecture if you spare yourself the guilt, okay?" She moved over to join her mother by the other racks of clothing. "You and Killian are getting along great now, and-and that means a lot to me." She held up a set of onesies in tones of yellow and white, patterned with laughing ducks wearing cheeky little sailor caps set askew on their heads. Emma had an affinity for ducks. "What do think?" she asked, to distract her mother.

Mary-Margaret's face scrunched up as she considered it. "Mmm...too cutesy," she decided after a minute.

Seriously? Emma thought in disbelief as she put the onesies back on the rack. This from a woman whose entire house is decorated in pictures of fluffy bunnies and other small woodland creatures? She shook her head in amusement and tried not to grin. "What about teddy bears?" she suggested.

Her mother's face lit up. "Oooh, I love-" Mary-Margaret stopped mid-sentence, an uncomfortable look on her face. "Excuse me," she choked, sprinting for the bathroom at the back of the store, one hand clamped over her mouth.

Emma watched to make sure her mother reached the restroom in time, then turned away with a sigh. Her gaze fell on the set of duckling onesies again. Her fingers brushed the fabric with a slight smile. Her mother was crazy, Emma decided, they were adorable. A sense of longing washed over her again, and before she had time to think about it, to instill a splinter of reason in her thoughts, she picked the set of onesies off the rack and went to pay for them.

It would be her little secret.

Several weeks later

"Love," Killian's voice floated to her from the bedroom. "Can you come here for a minute?"

Emma frowned at the odd tone in his voice and rolled off the couch, where she'd been lounging with Henry, watching Saturday morning cartoons. "Yeah?" she asked, walking into their bedroom. "What's-" She halted just inside the doorway.

Killian stood in the middle of the room, holding up the set of duckling onesies she'd purchased on foolish, hormonal whim several weeks before. His expression was mildly aggravated. "Something you want to tell me, darling?" he inquired, his voice half-strangled.

She bounded across the room and tried to snatch it from him. "No."

He pulled back with a grin, using his hook to dangle it above her, just out of reach. "You're certain about that, love?"

"They're for Mary-Margaret," she lied, trying to swipe them again.

He raised a brow. "Oh? And you keep all gifts for Mary-Margaret hidden at the bottom of your underwear drawer?"

"What the hell were you doing rifling through my underwear?" she hissed. And she knew what a stupid question it was the moment it flew out of her mouth. She had asked him to put away the laundry this morning. Still, that didn't mean he had to paw through her delicates in the process, did it? Even if it was in keeping with her delightfully sex-crazed pirate's personality.

"Nothing I haven't seen before, love," he said, his eyes travelling down the length of her body with an appreciative smirk. He stepped close to her, wrapping his unmaimed arm around her waist. "Now," he murmured, "do you want to tell me what this is all about, sweetheart? Are you-are we...expecting a wee one, Emma?"

She repressed a smile at his archaic term for a baby. It was so unequivocally and adorably Killian. "No," she told him soberly, "we're not."

His expression became confused-and did she detect just the faintest hint of disappointment in his eyes? "Then-" He looked down at the onesies still hanging from the hook at his side. "I don't understand."

She shuddered a sigh. "I, um, bought them several weeks ago on impulse. I-I'd been thinking about another baby..."

"You want a baby?" He watched her, his expression unreadable.

"Maybe?" She shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know."

He eyed her skeptically. "Emma."

"All right, all right," she admitted in embarrassed exasperation. "I want another baby. I've been thinking about it a lot, ever since Mary-Margaret told me she was pregnant." His brow furrowed together, and she rushed on, "I guess...I guess I'm jealous. She's getting a second chance. I think I want a second chance at motherhood, too."

"And just when did you want this new baby?" he asked hoarsely, fixing her with a smoldering gaze.

She flushed. "When we get married."

"When?" A slow smile spread across his face. "And here I thought we were still contemplating eventual betrothal, love."

"Please," she deadpanned, "I know you told my father you think we're getting married someday."

"Your father's a right bloody little gossip when he's had a bit to drink," he groused. "Fun, though," he grinned. Killian cupped her face with his hand. "Emma, darling," he said in a more serious tone, "how much do you want this baby? We don't have to wait so long if you're certain you want one; if you're certain about a future with me."

She stepped back, tempted by his offer. "No, Killian," she told him gently, deciding to lay all her cards on the table, "I want to wait-even though marriage and a baby with you is what I want more than anything in the world right now. I want...I want to do this differently than it was with Neal. Everything happened so fast with him. I mean, I barely knew him before we started sleeping together, and boom! Before I knew it, I was unwed and pregnant and sitting in a jail cell. I want things to be different this time around. Because we are different."

He smiled at her. "Of course. Anything you wish, darling."

A/N: Anyone see that little tip of the hat reference to Lieutenant Duckling in here? :) I've been reading Lt. Duckling fics lately, and oh my gosh, they are so cute!