Chapter 2

Emma smelt the bacon sizzling on the pan in the kitchen before she broke out of her sleepy haze. The gentle coo of her younger brother then jogged her out of her lull, though her joints still felt heavy from sleep. She dragged herself up and assessed the room around her, almost confused by her surroundings. It was her room, alright, with its sparse decorations and small dresser filled with more leather jackets than she would admit. Emma looked down and started when she realized she was still in the clothes she wore the night before, and the smell of her own sweat and the dirt that covered her jeans and skin further repulsed her. It wasn't like she hadn't roughed it before, but her trip back in time overall had not been a pleasant experience, and the reminders weren't exactly the warmest good morning present.

Hastily, Emma got out of bed, straightening the sheets with care-a habit that she developed in the foster system. Orderly rooms usually meant being ignored, which was better than the less pleasant alternative.

The kitchen greeted her with a warm sight. David manning the pan over the stove, and Mary Margaret on the bar stool by the island, burping baby Neal over her shoulder and humming soothingly.

"Morning!" Mary Margaret said enthusiastically when she spotted her daughter. Emma nodded in greeting. Then, after realizing she was supposed to be trying to be more open with her parents, Emma smiled and went over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Hi." She said with what she hoped was a cheerful voice.

"Everything okay?" David asked, turning from the pan after depositing the bacon onto a large serving dish. Although it smelled good, one look at the bacon told Emma the slabs of meat were slightly burnt around the edges. Bacon was a much more delicate meat than mutton.

Emma nodded and shrugged. "I'm exhausted. Being dirty and gross doesn't exactly help." She gestured down to her pants and gave her jeans a heavy swat, causing some dirt to rise around her. "See?" She raised her eyebrows at David and then sat down beside her mother at the island. David smiled sympathetically. He had been through enough adventures to know exactly what his daughter was feeling. "There will be time to catch up later. Why don't you get cleaned up and then we can talk later today?" Mary Margaret looked like she was about to protest, her eyebrows up high and mouth open to speak, but then she noticed the way her daughter lit up at the dismissal and ran back to her room to fetch clean clothes.

She transitioned Neal from her shoulder back to his portable crib, carefully holding his head as she buckled him into security and made sure he was comfortable. He looked up at her, bubbles of spittle falling from his slack lips. "We missed out on everything with Emma, David, but I don't think I would have missed the messes." She sighed conversationally as she took his burping rag and gently swiped it across his lips. He smiled at the sensation and raised his eyebrows, blue eyes moving around everywhere.

David took a bite of bacon and smiled lovingly at his wife and son. "He's starting to look more and more like you everyday."

Mary Margaret smiled at him and then examined her son, playing with his bootied feet to keep him occupied. "But he's got your charming smile." She conceded to him, looking back at David with all the adoration she held for him.

The Charmings were content in the silence, watching Neal wave his arms up and down and then gently drift off. Finally, it felt like a happy ending. Although they weren't in a castle on a lake, and they were just the Deputy Sheriff and school teacher instead of king and queen, Mary Margaret and David were together. They had their daughter back, and now they were blessed with a new life to rear and teach the ways of the Enchanted Forest and Storybrooke to.

A new set of feet stepping down from the top level of the loft made both parents start in confusion. David hurried to see who was emerging and sighed in exasperation when Henry, complete with admirable bedhead and bags under his eyes came trudging into the kitchen.

"Morning grandpa." He mumbled, not even looking at David, whose mouth was still stuck open in surprise.

"Henry, when did you get in last night?" Mary Margaret asked before David could speak.

Henry scratched at his eyes, sat next to his uncle and grandmother, picked up a piece of bacon, and chewed slowly before answering. "Uh, late I guess. Everyone was asleep. I was at Regina's, and Hook-"

"Kid?" Emma emerged from the bathroom, clean and hair still dripping from the thorough washing she had indulged in. "What are you doing here?" She asked, plopping down next to him.

Henry looked at her like she was crazy. "Duh. I live here. Well, not for long right, since we're getting our own place?" He plugged in hopefully. Emma nodded. "Yeah, I mean, but I thought you were at Regina's."

Her son looked down and sighed. "She didn't really want to talk." Emma nodded in quiet understanding, and before she could think of something to take his mind off his adoptive mother, Mary Margaret spoke up.

"Hook, what, Henry?" She implored.

"Oh, he walked me home. I don't know what he was doing before we ran into each other, but I told him I was walking back to the loft and he offered to come with me." He said lazily, still waking up from his groggy state. Henry had done a lot of growing in the past year, one of the newest developments being his sleep schedule and daily calories consumed. Reminded of this, he grabbed for another piece of bacon and shoved it into his mouth whole. Emma grunted in exasperation at her son, but then thought back to Hook. A light blush crept up her cheeks, and she couldn't help make eye contact with David before hastily looking down, feeling like an admonished teenager.

"Kid, why don't we go look at that apartment by the docks you were talking about before..." Emma trailed off, eager at first to change the subject and then unsure how to categorize the adventure she had had with Killian. And she wasn't exactly willing to remind Henry that there was a time where she thought New York was there home, instead of Storybrooke.

Henry looked towards her, his eyes lighting up ever so slightly, reminding Emma wistfully of the eager ten year old he once was. "Y-yeah! That'd be great. Just, let me go get changed and then we can go." He grabbed another slice of crisped bacon, shoved it in his mouth, and dashed out of the kitchen, combing his hair as he ran.

David looked at Emma pointedly. "So you're looking at a place near the water?"

Instantly, Emma knew the game they would be playing. The water was inherently associated with a certain pirate David was very much aware about. Being close to the water, thus, meant a smaller proximity to the new interest in Emma's life, and a larger one from her over protective father.

"Yeah," She challenged, her voice conveying conviction falsely. "I mean, Henry loves sailing now, and it's not out of my price range, especially after what I made last year and how much I had in the savings Regina conjured for us when Pan's curse hit." The life as a bail bonds woman was not exactly glamorous, though it paid well on the commission checks Emma would get if she caught her perp. And she always got her guy.

David nodded and Mary Margaret smiled at Emma lovingly, her hand reaching out to grasp her daughter's. "I think it will be wonderful for you two to finally make a home together in Storybrooke. You'll finally get your happy ending."

At her words, David choked on his coffee he had been sipping, and when both women looked at him, Emma in warning and Mary Margaret in concern, he waved a hand at them. "Went down the wrong way, sorry."

Father and daughter exchanged looks, their eyes conversing silently before Henry rushed down, dressed and ready to go. "Come on, let's go." He exclaimed hurriedly, grabbing his scarf from the coat rack and opening the worn down door. Emma cast her father one last look before kissing Mary Margaret and Neal on the cheek and following her son out the door.

"So you really think this place could be the one?" Emma asked as they went down the creaky stairs. Although Emma truly wanted to engage with her son, she couldn't help but cast her memory back to the night before, and the exchange of hushed, earnest words she had shared with Killian. And the kisses.

Henry nodded enthusiastically, his hair shaking, making Emma think he needed a haircut soon. She was still his mother, even if she was now caught up in a new fairy tale love scandal. "Yeah. I do. It's the perfect distance from the docks-" he looked pointedly at her, which caught Emma off guard- "And it looks right onto the water."

The two left the apartment building and shivered in the cold Maine morning air, the fog still settled low on the ground, casting Main Street Storybrooke in an ethereal haze. Emma could barely see the glowing 'Open' neon sign in Granny's Diner, even though it was only across the street.

"Hey, kid, what do you say to a cup of hot chocolate before we get going?" Emma implored, silently willing him to agree. Henry looked up at her and smiled. "As long as we get cinnamon on top."

She smiled and steered him towards the Diner so he wouldn't see the stupid grin plastered across her face. "Obviously, what kind of mother do you take me for?"

Henry stopped them, even though they were in the middle of the road, with no visibility for cars to swerve away from them if they came speeding through the intersection. "The best." He answered simply, and then dashed away into the fog towards Granny's.

At no point in her life did Emma think she would ever have a mother, let alone become one. She didn't want to subject a child to a life filled with as much struggle as she had endured. Now, even though her New York memories were an illusion, she couldn't help but feel that she was getting 11 hang of being a mother, of being part of a family unit larger than herself. Hearing Henry literally tell her she was the best meant more to Emma than she could comprehend early in the morning, and made her feel like she didn't deserve such high praise. But, dammit, if Henry thought she was the best, she would try to strive to be half the mother he saw her as. Hopefully, that would be enough.

She sniffed, not realizing the emotional impact his words had on her, and then jogged after him, eager to get some warm cocoa in her system before a long morning of house hunting.

When she opened the door to the diner, the trademark ting of the overhead bell sounding her entrance, Emma was surprised to see Hook and Henry sharing a booth across from one another, Henry with a steaming mug of cocoa and Hook with a cup of coffee.

"Swan!" He said, noticing her first. Henry turned in his chair and beckoned her over with a wave.

"Have you tried this concoction? It's called coffee, and it's quite bitter. Henry says that it will give me energy because of some sort of ingredient in it. Coffleen, he called it."

Emma rolled her eyes and smiled endearingly. "Caffeine." She corrected as she shrugged her coat off and took a seat next to her son. He slid her a cup of cocoa that had already been waiting. Emma grasped the steaming drink in her hands, reveling in the way the ceramic mug burned her clammy palms and coursed some heat through her arms. She sighed contentedly, and then took a large gulp, some whip cream sticking to her upper lip. Unable to help herself, her eyes locked onto Hook's, who could not stop from staring at her lips. He glanced back up at her eyes, alight with mirth. Killian sent her his own crooked smile and then moved forward, reaching his good hand out. Once he made the move, Emma froze, completely aware of what was about to happen but unable to get her brain to send her body some signal to do something.

His fingers were calloused, rough from 300 years trekking through a jungle and sailing on the Jolly Roger. Even though his thumb moved gently over her top lip, Emma could feel the rough pads alight her skin in a warmth stronger than the cocoa could have fresh off the stove. Then, his finger was gone, and she watched him, entranced, as he licked the cream off his thumb. It wasn't inherently suggestive or provocative, because Killian didn't make an effort to overly dramatize the action, but it still made Emma's face flush deep crimson. Luckily, Henry seemed rather oblivious, as he was looking through his phone while the whole transaction occurred.

"I, uh-" Emma cleared her throat, "I thought I got you one that couldn't get on the internet." She asked Henry, looking at him, at his phone, at the hairs on his head, not at Killian.

Henry glanced up sheepishly. "Uh, it can't. Get ready to be excited for your phone bill this month." He returned his attention to the screen as Emma gaped at him in disbelief before smacking the back of his head lightly.

"Shall we go?" Killian asked, his voice much more normal than Emma's had been. She looked at him, eyes questioning. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, I invited him." Henry interjected, putting his phone away safely in his pocket. Emma sighed. "You're welcome to come. We'd love to have you"

Killian smirked, clearly enjoying himself. "As you wish."

...

tbc

(Sorry for the ending in kind of a weird spot... I didn't want to make the chapter too long and there wasn't really an obvious break. We have a few more chapters of domesticity before the action begins :) Hope you enjoyed, and please review!)