Author's note: As with TIEYA, we've got an M rating here people. That is for a reason. And this story is just getting started, remember that.
Disclaimer: Sadly, no.
The deck of the Jolly Roger rang with the sound of swordplay, something not seen there in decades. No boarding party, no Lost Boys, no insufferable Peter Pan. This day the captain of the ship was attempting to teach his wayward princess how to properly wield her sword. Trying and failing as far as Emma was concerned.
"Damn it!" she cried, as Killian had his cutlass hovering at her throat, her own weapon skittering across the deck. Again.
Killian grinned at her. He was loving this far too much. "You almost had me that time, lass."
Emma threw him a dirty look. "Don't patronize me, Killian."
Killian lowered his sword, his expression turning serious. "I would do no such thing, love. I am being entirely honest. With a bit more practice..."
"Save it," Emma cut him off, stalking off to get her sword. Well, David's sword. She still didn't have one of her own, which annoyed her. And it annoyed her, that she was annoyed.
"Emma, love, what is bothering you? It can't just be being bested by the three hundred year old pirate at swordplay."
"You're imagining things, Killian. I'm fine," she countered, taking position across from him once more.
But this time Killian refused to oblige her. He kept his sword at his side. "No, Emma. You've been like this for a week now. Something is going on."
It was times like this it annoyed her how well he could read her. And this time the reason for her bad mood was so stupid, that she was extra twitchy about it. Shouldn't things like this make her happy? Especially now. She finally had everything she'd ever wanted and just when she should be enjoying it the most, she was lashing out at the very people closest to her.
"It's nothing, stupid really," she said weakly. "Can we just get back to the lesson?"
"It's not nothing," Killian said evenly. "Tell me, please?"
Emma sighed, lowering her sword in defeat. "You know what today is?"
"Aye, it's Thursday."
Emma raised an eyebrow. "Killian..."
"Aye, it's your name day. Henry's been twittering on about it for weeks. And Snow. Why does it cause you such distress, darling?"
"I don't know, that's the point! It will be the first birthday where I'm not...alone. Well, last year, Henry showed up after I made a stupid wish, but that doesn't count."
"You don't like people making a fuss over you." It wasn't a question.
"It's just so...new, I guess? I mean for twenty eight years, I was alone. Then Henry shows up out of the blue and drags me me here. Now I have a son, parents and...you. I thought this feeling would go away eventually, but it hasn't. And Gold's still out there, doing God only knows what...and I guess with my birthday, it's all come to a head." She moved to the rail, leaning against it. "I'm sorry, this must make absolutely no sense to you."
Killian crossed the deck and stood in front of her. "Never apologize for opening up to me, love. We're a team, remember?"
"Damn good one too," she replied, smiling.
"There's a good lass," Killian said, returning her smile. "Now what feeling?"
"It's stupid." He cocked an eyebrow at her, bidding her to continue. She sighed, knowing he wouldn't stop until she told him. "I'm supposed to be the Savior, right? My parents, Henry, even you look at me like I'm the most wonderful person and I'm...not. I'm just me, and I don't feel very special or Savior-y or anything. It's like I'm a huge fraud and one day all of you will see that and leave." She paused. And thing of it is, I know it's stupid. After everything we've been through, I know that none of you are going anywhere. Not on purpose. But twenty eight years of loneliness is hard to shake."
"Believe it or not, love, I understand you perfectly."
Emma stared at him for a long second, then realized how incredibly stupid that had sounded to Killian Jones of all people. Of course he'd understand. He'd only spent three hundred years alone, desperately trying to avenge his last love.
"Sometimes I forget how old you are," Emma said sheepishly. "Sorry."
"With you, I sometimes forget too."
Emma brought her hand up to his face, cupping his cheek gently. "I love you, Killian. And you're practically a saint for putting up with me. A lesser man would have bailed a long time ago."
"Well, then it's a good thing I'm not one of those." He turned his head, kissing her palm. "I love you, Emma."
Emma looked down at her watch, her personal pity party over. How did he always know how to make her feel better? "We've still got a few hours; can we fight some more?"
Killian grinned. "Think you can best me this time, love?"
"Hey, I'm the daughter of Prince Charming. I got this."
Together, they moved to the center of the deck, facing each other once more. Emma raised her sword and attacked, trying to catch Killian off guard. He raised his sword at the last second, deflecting her blow easily.
"You'll have to do better than that," he taunted.
Emma laughed, her first genuine laugh in a week. This was going to be fun.
A couple of hours later, Emma and Killian made their way back to the apartment. Snow's surprise party (that she didn't know Emma already knew about) was in an hour and both of them needed a shower and a change of clothes. Emma was digging through her closet for a suitable dress when she heard Killian yelp from the bathroom.
"What is it?" she asked, stepping into the steam filled room.
"Looks like that last lunge was more accurate then I thought," Killian said through gritted teeth. Sure enough, there was a gash just underneath his ribcage. A trickle of blood ran down his stomach, staining the water in the tub.
"It's a scratch, you big baby," Emma teased.
"It bloody well stings!"
"That's because you're standing underneath the hot water," Emma pointed out. Then she took pity on him. "Come here." Killian stepped out of the tub and Emma laid her hand on his wet skin. The now familiar tingling sensation flowed across her palm; a second later the scratch was completely healed, like it has never been there. "Better now?" she asked.
"Much."
"Does this mean I actually bested you?"
"It most certainly does not!"
"Oh, but I think it does." She grinned. "The great Captain Hook, bested by a girl. We'll have to put that in the Mirror." Emma turned to leave, when she felt Killian's hand wrap around her wrist.
"Care to join me, love?" he said, his voice dropping to that octave that made her shiver.
"We can't," she pointed out. "The party."
"They can't have the party without the guest of honor; they can wait."
"I'm not supposed to know about this party, remember? If we're late, they'll come looking for us. Do you really want my parents to catch us again?"
Emma saw Killian shudder at the memory. It had been only a few days after they'd returned from Wonderland; days that Emma and Killian had spent mostly in bed. David and Mary Margaret had invited themselves over without calling and had gotten an eye full. Emma thought David was going to run Killian through with his sword, even though logically he knew that she and Killian had become lovers before Wonderland. It was another week before Emma could look her mother in the eye. It was not an experience Emma wanted to repeat. So as much as she would love nothing better than to shower with her wet naked pirate, it would have to wait. They had somewhere to be.
"Next time, love," Killian said.
"Definitely."
As they approached Granny's a little while later, Killian whispered in her ear. "Now remember, love. Act surprised. Your mum would have my head if she found out I told you."
"Captain Hook, afraid of my mother?" It would be even more hilarious if she hadn't seen the fearless, badass Snow White in action. But she had, so what Killian said was entirely true. "Lucky you have me to protect you."
"Are you mocking me?"
"Well spotted." She grinned. "I'm sure an exception could be made. I did put you though extreme duress to get it out of you," she commented, her fingers brushing underneath the waistband of his trousers.
"Keep that up, love, and I will haul you right back home."
As they stepped through the gate to Granny's, Emma leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Is that a promise?" before pushing the door to the diner open and entering.
"Minx," she heard Killian mutter under his breath as he followed her.
It was dark inside the diner and appeared to be empty. She knew it wasn't, of course, but played along with the ruse. Mary Margaret really would be upset if she found out her surprise had been spoiled. "I wonder where everybody is?" she said to no one in particular.
"SURPRISE!"
Even though she knew this was exactly what was supposed to happen, Emma still jumped. The lights had come on at the same time and seeing what appeared to be all of Storybrooke crammed into Granny's really was a surprise. She had expected her parents, Henry, the dwarves, Ruby, Granny, Archie, even Regina. But it was everyone. They all looked so genuinely happy to celebrate her, she almost couldn't handle it. There was still a small part of her that wanted to bolt, but she fought it. Killian, a solid comforting presence at her side, helped.
"Happy birthday, Emma," Mary Margaret said, happily. She pulled Emma into a tight hug; Emma could feel a few tears fall onto her bare shoulder. Emma blinked back her own tears. All her life she'd wanted to be hugged by her mother on her birthday and now she was. David suddenly was there too, murmuring his own birthday wishes.
"Thank you," Emma said quietly. "Thank you both so much."
Mary Margaret pulled back reluctantly. "It might be a bit over the top, but we wanted to make up for all the birthdays we missed," she sniffed.
Emma looked at the colorful balloons, streamers, the huge pile of presents. It was over the top, but she found that she didn't care. "It's perfect," Emma replied. "Really."
"Happy birthday, Mom!" Henry cried, shouldering his way through the adults.
"Thanks, kid." Emma stooped to hug him too. Then everything was a logjam of hugs and birthday wishes and greetings. Emma lost Killian somewhere in the melee. At one point she caught his eye as he sat quietly at the counter next to the huge pile of birthday presents. She motioned for him to join her, but he shook his head. She was about to go over there and drag him back with her, when David beat her to it. Quickly, the two of them were deep in conversation about God only knows what.
Emma disengaged herself from all the well wishers long enough to get a plate. Everything smelled great; Granny had made all of Emma's favorite things. She was somewhat surprised when she was joined at the table by Regina.
"Happy birthday, Miss Swan."
"Thank you, Regina."
The former Evil Queen looked uncomfortable. She was doing much better, but many of the townspeople were still wary of her. Emma couldn't blame them, really. Only one thing could help and that was time.
"Henry invited me, I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not, Regina," Emma said, honestly. "You're always welcome, you know that."
"Not everyone would agree with you."
"Well, it's my party, right?" she said, trying to play it down. "Look, Regina. I know you don't want to hear this, but I'm gonna say it anyway. It's gonna take time for most of this town to accept that you've changed. You can't expect them to just forgive you right away. But it'll be worth it in the end."
"Well, we'll see about that," Regina countered. She started to walk away, when Emma stopped her.
"Listen, Regina, we were gonna take Henry sailing this weekend. But would you like to spend some time with him? I know he's been dying to show you Jolly."
Regina smiled gratefully. "I would love that. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Emma returned to her table with her plate. Mary Margaret looked at her, eyebrow raised in question. "She just wanted to wish me a happy birthday. Is that a crime now?"
"No, it's not." Mary Margaret's shoulders slumped. "It's just hard, Emma. I want to believe in her, I do. But it's hard when she continues to glare at me like she wants me dead."
"She's grieving still," Emma pointed out. "Killian did kill Cora."
"Cora was going to kill both of you!"
"I know, I know. And deep down Regina knows that too. We just need to give her the space to work through it."
"I hope you're right," Mary Margaret said skeptically.
On that happy note, Emma dug into her dinner. Ruby invited herself into the booth with her; they made small talk for a while. Emma was just finishing up when Henry appeared at her shoulder.
"Presents or cake?" he asked, practically bouncing from one foot to the other.
"Seriously, kid, you'd think this was your birthday or something."
"Come on, Mom!"
"OK, how about presents and cake? I'll blow out the candles or whatever, then open presents while everyone eats. How's that?"
"Great!" The boy was off like a shot, calling to Granny to bring out the cake. Emma's eyes widened as the cake was brought out. No small cupcake for her this time; no, this cake was huge. It was in the shape of a swan; Emma had no idea how Granny had even got it to look like that. Did they teach advanced cake making in the Enchanted Forest?
"Better blow out those candles, love," Killian said, appearing at her side like a ghost. "All that fire might burn the place down."
Emma elbowed him. "Shut up. Just wait until your birthday."
Emma saw Killian frown slightly; she was about to ask him about it but Henry was yanking on her arm. "Don't forget to make a wish!"
Squeezing her eyes closed, she wished for something very different than she had the year before. Wish made, she blew out the twenty nine candles. The diner erupted in cheers and applause; Emma grinned shyly at all the attention. Mary Margaret shooed everyone away, while she began cutting the cake. David helped her hand out plates piled high with birthday cake. Emma sat next to Killian at the counter, examining the pile of presents for the first time.
"That's an obscene number of presents," Emma observed.
"You deserve every single one," Killian assured her.
"Are you gonna open them or what?" Henry asked.
"Sure, kid." Emma grabbed one of the smaller boxes and ripped the paper. It went on like that for a while, Emma ripping open presents with Henry scurrying around collecting the discarded paper. She got a beautiful hand knitted sweater from Granny, some lingerie from Ruby (that she quickly hid from Henry, but Killian was very interested in), a painting of what appeared to be she and Killian on the beanstalk (at least that's what Henry told her it was) and a new swan necklace from Mary Margaret and David. There were other things too; most were thoughtful but there were a few random things too. When she got to the bottom of the pile, Emma cocked an eyebrow at the long thin package. It was the last present and Emma had no idea what it was.
"Go on, love," Killian said. Emma caught the barest hint of anxiety in his voice. So this was from him then. Intrigued, Emma lifted the package; it was surprisingly heavy. She ripped off the paper eagerly and lifted the lid to the box. Inside sat a slightly smaller exact replica of David's sword. It had her name inset on the hilt. Carefully, she lifted it out of the box and tested it weight and balance in her hand. The one problem with David's sword was that it was slightly too heavy for her; it kept throwing her off. But this was perfect for her.
She laid the sword back down, then turned to Killian. "How?"
"There were a couple of unused swords down in the hold of the Roger. I knew you wanted a sword of your own, so your father and I had those melted down and this one forged for you."
If you had told her a year ago that she'd get a freaking sword for her birthday and it would be the greatest gift she'd ever gotten, she'd have had you committed. As it was, she was deeply touched by Killian's thoughtfulness. Now if the occasion arose, they could fight side by side, like her parents did. And Emma would have it no other way. "Thank you," she said, leaning in to kiss him. When the kiss lingered a beat too long, there were cat calls (started by Leroy to no one's surprise). Blushing, Emma pulled away.
David saved her. "This goes with it," he said, handing her a gorgeous scabbard. Emma lifted the sword once more and slid it into its scabbard. "Thank you, David," she murmured, hugging him.
"Does this mean I can have mine back?" he laughed.
"Sure."
"I'm so proud of you, Emma."
Emma was saved from replying when Henry yawned. "I think it's past someone's bedtime," she observed.
It was late. And Henry had school the next day. "You go," Mary Margaret said, "We'll clean up."
"OK, thanks again, you guys. It was a wonderful party."
More hugs, a few gathered presents (there were too many to take them all home at once) and she, Killian and Henry headed back to the apartment. As Emma tucked him in, she said, "Regina's going to pick you up from school tomorrow, OK?"
"What about sailing?"
"Well, kid, I know that we were going to, but I think Regina misses you. She's still sad about her mother. Is that alright? The ocean will still be there next weekend."
"Yeah, I can show her Jolly! She still hasn't seen me ride!"
"See, everybody wins. I'll pack your bag for you tonight. Now get some sleep."
That task completed, Emma was about to turn off the light when Henry called out. "Yeah?"
"Was it a good birthday?" he asked.
She smiled. "Best birthday ever, kid."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Killian hauled the last of the supplies they would need for their weekend down to the hold. It wasn't much, just a few non-perishables, a couple of changes of clothes – that if Killian had his way they wouldn't even need – and Emma's new sword. He was extremely pleased how much she seemed to love her gift; it had been well worth overcoming David's initial misgivings about it. Killian suspected that this was more due to the pirate thing than anything else. While David and Snow were remarkably supportive of their relationship, Killian still got the feeling that his less than orthodox ways didn't quite sit well with them. But it was too late now.
"Permission to come aboard, Captain?" he heard Emma call.
He poked his head topside. "Of course, love. You know you don't have to ask."
She grinned at him. "I know. I just like to. You get the most adorable look on your face."
Killian mock scowled as he stepped on the deck. "Oi! You take that back! Captain Hook is not adorable."
"You keep telling yourself that, buddy."
"Perhaps you'd like a demonstration?" he purred.
He grinned when Emma shivered. "Nah, maybe later." Then she stalked off to their cabin to drop her bag. Killian sighed. That woman would be the death of him someday, he was sure of it. What over three hundred years of living and vengeance couldn't do, Emma would. And she'd do it with a smirk on her lips.
Since Henry was staying behind with Regina, they had no reason to linger. In the brief months since coming to Storybrooke, he'd come to love the boy as his own, but Killian would be lying if he said that he wasn't looking forward to having Emma all to himself. To that end, he cast off from the dock and ran up to the helm. They were fortunate; a stiff breeze from the northwest caught the sails, sending them quickly out into the bay. Killian spun the wheel to make them one with the current. They weren't going far, just down the coast a bit. Emma had mentioned vaguely something about Boston or New York as their ports of call, but that was when Henry had been accompanying them. Since it was just the two of them, Killian wasn't going to be overly zealous about them even leaving the ship. Emma, his ship and the open sea were all he needed at this particular moment.
Emma emerged a few minutes later, her blonde tresses flowing in the wind, leather pants, boots, blue vest, one of his shirts and her new sword strapped to her hip. She was a vision. Killian's eyes widened as he drank her in; desire pooled in his stomach. "You look like a pirate, love," he murmured.
"Well, that's good, because I feel ridiculous."
"Nonsense, love. You're gorgeous." To emphasize his point, he closed the space between them and kissed her soundly, wrapping her in his arms. She melted into his kiss, her arms going around his neck of their own accord. The hilt of her sword jabbed him in the ribs, but he barely felt it. Nothing could rival the feel of her in his arms at that moment.
He pulled back, brushing an errant lock out of her face. "All this for me, darling?"
"Well, I am dating a pirate. Figured I should look the part. You don't like it?" she asked, worrying her lip between her teeth.
"What part of 'you're gorgeous' was unclear?"
"You'd be surprised."
"Any man who saw you right now would agree with me, love. Then I'd have to fend them off with my sword."
"I think I can do my own fending, thanks. Besides, you're the only one I want seeing me like this."
"Good to know," he said, lowering his head to her neck and peppering it with kisses.
"So where are we off to, Captain?"
Going? They were going somewhere? Killian's focus had shrunk solely to the woman before him. And there was only one place he wanted to take her. "Don't care," he murmured against her skin, "as long as it involves our quarters."
Emma pushed him away; Killian immediately groaned at the loss. "A-ah," she tisked. "I want to try out my new sword first."
"Emma..."
"You know as well as I do, if we go below now, we won't come back. And I want my chance at besting you first." She grinned at him, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Besides, if you're good, I promise to make it up to you."
"You're a bloody tease, love."
"But you love it," she countered. With that, Emma turned and climbed down to the main deck. Killian growled and grabbed his own sword from its perch. Fine, if that was the game she wanted to play, so be it.
By the time he faced her, Emma already had her sword drawn and the scabbard tossed aside. Killian wasted no time, attacking almost instantly. Emma was surprised, but recovered quickly. Back and forth they went across the deck, slashing, hacking, spinning. Killian would thrust and Emma would parry. She'd swing and he'd side step. It was an intricate dance that neither was willing to relinquish control of. Once, the force of Killian's blow caused sparks to rain down on them. He gave her no quarter and she asked for none. Through it, Killian was impressed. She'd learned a lot in a relatively short amount of time, complimenting her natural talent.
"You've been holding out on me, love," he said as she drove him back once more.
"Either that, or you've lost your touch," she shot back.
"No bloody likely," he spat, kicking her legs out from under her. She was a glorious vision, fighting like that, dressed as she was, but it was time to put an end to this. "Now this is much better," he said, circling her sword with his hook, holding it in place and leaning down between her open legs.
"I seem to remember this one," Emma commented, breathing heavily. Killian grinned. One of their earliest training sessions had ended precisely this way; he was pleased she remembered.
"It was a nice try, love, but..." He never got to finish, because Emma closed her legs around him and flipped him over so that he was the one flat on his back. Emma scrambled up, kicking away his sword and holding her own to his throat. A triumphant grin lit up her face.
"Wanna rephrase that, Captain?"
It had been a long time since anyone had bested him at swordplay. A long time. He knew he should be angry, annoyed, at the very least chagrined, but he wasn't. Because it was Emma who'd bested him, a vision dressed as a pirate, her stormy eyes lit up, her chest heaving as she stared down at him. The latent desire that simmered all though their dance surged in him. He needed her. Now.
Killian scrambled to his feet, knocking her sword away as he did. It landed a few feet away from his own, but he barely noticed. Instead, he picked Emma up, threw her over his shoulder and marched them to the captain's quarters. Emma gave a yelp of protest that melted into a laugh when she realized where they were going. There was a knowing smirk on her lips when he finally sat her down after slamming the door to the cabin shut. Minx had known what she was doing all along, he mused. Well, she would pay for that.
He advanced on her, backing her into the solid door at her back. She stared up at him through her lashes, completely unafraid, the desire evident. The grin he graced her with was wolfish and hungry. "That wasn't a very smart plan, darling," he growled.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she retorted, but the grin tugging at her lips gave her away.
"Come now, Emma. There's no need for subterfuge. Just tell me what you want and I promise you'll get it."
"I'm already getting what I want."
"And what's that?"
"You. Hanging by a thread. I can see it in your eyes."
"I'd be careful what you wish for, love. You may not like what you've unleashed."
"Do your worst, Captain."
With that, the last vestiges of Killian's control snapped. He crushed his lips to hers. Emma moaned into the kiss, but Killian pulled back before she could deepen it. His lips moved along her jaw and down her throat, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. Her hands crept up his back, but he stepped away from her and pushed her arms back to her sides.
"Not so fast, love," he chided. "This is my ship and here I give the orders. Are we clear?"
Emma's eyes sparked with mischief and understanding, but to her credit she kept her face neutral. And Killian fell in love with her just a little bit more. It was a rare woman who would be willing to play this game with him. "Aye, Captain. Crystal."
"Good. Rule number one: no touching unless I say so."
Emma gulped, but nodded. Killian grinned. It would be torture for him as well, but worth it. He was determined to make her as crazy as she made him. Killian reached out and slid his hook between the laces in the front of her leather pants, yanking her toward him. He brought his lips to hers in a desperate, needy kiss. His good hand went to her waist and caressed her backside, pressing her hips toward him where his desire for her was straining against the confines of his own pants. Emma hissed at the contact, her hands clenching at her sides. Killian broke the kiss and ran the curved side of his hook along the side of her face, down her neck, then her torso, careful not to snag it on the fabric. When he reached her waist, he pulled his shirt out of her waistband and slipped his good hand underneath, sliding his fingers over the smooth skin of her stomach. He kept his eyes locked with hers, as he continued his sensual assault on her body, his hand creeping ever higher.
As much as it pained him, Killian brought his hook up and sliced off the buttons of Emma's vest. Buttons could be replaced; he didn't want to stop touching her.
"Shirt, love," he whispered low in her ear.
Emma slid the vest off her shoulders allowing it to fall to the floor. Then she crossed her arms and lifted his shirt over her head. She wasn't wearing anything underneath it, except her gold necklace which hung between her breasts. Killian's breath hitched in his throat; he never got tired of admiring her. She was exquisite. But it wasn't enough to just admire her; he needed to taste her skin. He started at the curve of her throat and worked his way down her chest, suckling her breasts. Emma threw her head back and groaned. Killian kept his hand and hook at her waist to support her, but Emma had to reach back and grab his desk chair, lest she topple over. Killian ran his tongue around her navel, caressing her heated skin with the cool steel of his hook, knowing the contrast drove her mad.
"Killian," Emma panted. "Please."
Killian looked up at her. "Begging already, darling?" he murmured into her skin. "Why, we've only just begun."
He understood her though. He wanted her just as badly. He'd wanted her from the moment she stepped on board, but then he always did. Then seeing her dressed as full fledged pirate and denying him in favor of swordplay? He was wound as tight as he'd ever been in his life. But that's why he wanted to torment her, just for a little while. So he quashed the urge to just throw her over the edge of the map table and have his way with her. Killian wanted to remember this.
Slowly, he unlaced the front of her leather pants. Smirking up at her, he slipped his fingers in and teased her the way he knew she liked. Emma tried grinding her hips into his hand, but it was an awkward angle. She growled in frustration and reached for his wrist, but stopped herself just in time.
"I know, love, I know."
In an effort to both appease her and further torment her, Killian make quick work of her boots and pants, tossing them aside. The only barrier that remained were her panties, in seconds they were gone too, torn to shreds by his hook. Killian nipped at the inside of her thighs; Emma spread her legs to give him better access. Killian kissed his way to the apex of her thighs, his hand and hook trailing his wake up her thighs. The muscles there quivered in anticipation. Abruptly, Killian stood up and Emma screamed in frustration.
"You're kidding, right?" she whined.
Killian just cocked an eyebrow. "Bed, now," he ordered.
Emma opened her mouth to protest, but shut it again. She glared at him, but did as he asked. "Lay back," he said. Once she did, Killian pulled out a scarlet silk scarf. "Hands above your head." Order obeyed, Killian carefully tied the scarf around her wrists and secured it to the headboard. Emma pulled on it experimentally, but he'd been tying knots like this for over three hundred years, it was no use.
"Remember the last time I tied you up?" Emma nodded. "I told you that you'd get a demonstration? Consider this your demonstration." Then he leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I promise this time will have a more pleasant outcome." He stood up, grinning as Emma shivered.
Then Killian went to work on his own clothes. Soon his waistcoat, shirt and boots were scattered on the floor. He saw Emma watching him, the annoyance gone now and lust in its place. Emma's hands struggled against her silken bonds; the itch to touch him slowly driving her mad. Killian kicked off his pants and climbed into the bed, kneeling between her spread legs. Slowly, savoring the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips, Killian ran hand the length of her body.
Emma squirmed under his touch. "Damn it, Killian," she breathed.
Killian ignored her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and sucked on her pulse point. Emma raised her hips, trying to get any kind of friction. Killian hissed as she made contact with his shaft and pushed her back down on the bed. "What is rule number one, Emma?" he asked sternly.
"No touching."
"Rule number two? Not a sound."
Emma's eyes widened. He stared at her until she nodded her acknowledgment. He loved all the little sounds she made, lived to hear her scream his name in ecstasy, but not this time. This time he wanted her to experience all that pleasure without making a sound. And in this game, Killian was determined to get what he wanted.
Satisfied that Emma understood, Killian slid down the bed and lowered his head between her legs. He paused to inhale her scent, a mixture of sunflowers and vanilla. Again the urge to just take her threatened to overwhelm him, but he fought it. He wanted to drive her that much closer to the edge of sanity. Killian placed his left arm on her stomach to keep Emma from squirming before darting out his tongue to lick her slit. Killian could feel her need to cry out as he licked and sucked and teased her, at the same time avoiding where she wanted him most. But Emma remained quiet. Pleased, Killian slipped a finger inside her; he could feel her inner walls clamp down on the digit immediately. As he slowly moved it, Killian sucked that small bundle of nerves between his lips. He could feel her peak start to build, but just before she could fall over the precipice, he stopped. Emma's head came up as she shot him a murderous glare; her blonde hair was plastered to her forehead and she was breathing heavily. And Killian had her right where he wanted her.
Killian licked his finger clean, keeping his eyes locked on her stormy gaze. Emma unconsciously licked her lips as she watched him. He smirked as he crawled up her body, stretched out in front of him. Lazily, he brushed some of her damp hair out of her face and kissed her breathless. He felt her legs rise along his flanks, but was too lost his own lust to chide her for it. All the deprivation, frustration and torment was building to this moment. Killian shifted his hips and sank inside her with a groan. And it stopped being a game. He wanted her – no, needed her – to touch him. Bracing himself on his left arm, Killian reached up and deftly untied the knot that held Emma to the bed.
Emma took the hint for what it was and wrapped herself tightly around him, so that he was no longer sure where he ended and she began. Her legs wound around his waist, ankles locking at the base of his spine. Emma's hands trailed across his shoulders and down his back, everywhere feeling like electric shocks. Killian started to move, shallow at first, but the intensity of their connection became too much. His thrusts grew more and more erratic, he was too close, he wasn't going to last much longer. Emma bit her lip to keep from crying out; he could feel that she was close. On instinct, he changed the angle and Emma could no longer contain her cries as he hit that spot he knew would make her scream. Her whole body shook with the intensity of her climax as she clawed at Killian's back. Seconds later, Killian followed her over the edge, screaming her name as he did.
Completely drained, Killian collapsed on top of her. Gradually, it occurred to him that he could be squashing her, but Emma made no protest. She did manage to reach up and stroke his hair lovingly. He kissed her collarbone in gratitude and for a few moments they just enjoyed being close. When a cool draft slipped into the cabin, Killian rolled off her and pulled the duvet over them with his hook. Emma laid her head on his chest; Killian wrapped his arm around her shoulders to keep her there.
"That...was something," Emma murmured.
"Aye." Killian caught sight of Emma's right wrist on his chest. It was a bit pinker than he remembered. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
Emma raised her head. "I am fine. Perfect even. I'm a tough lass, remember?"
Killian smiled at the memory. "Indeed you are. And you're mine."
"I should hope so. Unless you know any other handsome pirates hereabouts?" she deadpanned.
"Can't say that I do, love. Guess you're stuck with me."
"I think I can handle that," she replied, grinning. She laid her head back down. "It's getting dark," she commented, looking out the cabin window.
"Aye."
"How far do you think we are from Storybrooke?"
Killian thought about it, wondering where she was going with this. "We're a good twenty miles off shore, love. Why?"
"You've never told me about Neverland. Not all of it anyway."
Aside from that less than flattering story about Tinkerbell, Killian hadn't told her much about Neverland. But then again, Emma hadn't asked. Until now. "What..." he began, then it clicked. "Oh, you mean that 'second star to the right' rubbish your realm thinks about it."
"Are you saying there isn't a star?"
Killian toyed with a lock of her hair. "Oh, there is. But there are too many stars in the sky for it to the 'to the right' of anything, really. Would you like me to show you?"
"Maybe in a little while. I can't really move right now."
"Oh good," Killian said in mock relief. "Because I can't either." He kissed the top of her head. "Let's just rest up and I'll show you the way to Neverland."
They dozed for an couple of hours. When they awoke, it was completely dark. Emma rose and rummaged around for a match. Finding the box, she lit one and used it to light two of the candles. With that small amount of illumination, they both dressed. The late October air was turning chilly after a few weeks of Indian summer. Emma shrugged into her new black coat, the one that Killian liked to joke made them match. She followed Killian out onto the deck. He lead her out to the bow; the sails couldn't obstruct their view from there.
"Are the stars different here?" Emma asked. "I wondered back in the Enchanted Forest, but never asked."
"Aye, they are. Well, most of them anyway. There are a few that are the same."
"Like the one to Neverland?"
"Exactly. And the...what did you call it? The North Star? That's the same too."
"That's good. Because it's the only one I actually know."
Killian laughed. "Well, that won't do. Not if you're planning on spending time at sea."
"And am I?"
"That, my love, is entirely up to you. But I hope so."
"Guess it's a good thing I have a good teacher, huh?"
"I knew I loved you for a reason."
"Kindred souls, remember?"
"I thought you'd forgotten that."
"How could I? You scared the crap out of me with that."
"Well, you were being stubborn, love."
Emma rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Are you gonna show me this star or what?"
Killian pulled his spy glass out of his pocket and extended it to its full length. He held it up and scanned the sky. There were more dark spots than he remembered from the last time he'd been teaching Henry to navigate by the stars. Maybe it was just clouds or something? He dismissed the thought immediately; the night sky was clear. Something felt wrong, but Killian was damned if he could figure out what it was. He lowered the spy glass, thinking.
"Killian," Emma asked, "is everything alright?"
"Hmmm?"
"I said, is everything alright? You kinda spaced out on me."
He looked at her, her features pale in the faint moonlight. "Everything's fine, love," he said, knowing she'd spot the lie the second he uttered it. Emma just cocked an eyebrow knowingly. Killian sighed. "It's just something I want to check against those star charts you got me. But Henry has them." Which was entirely true; all this could be his mind playing tricks on him and his only way of verifying his hunch was back in Storybrooke. Emma seemed to accept this explanation without further protest. Killian hated being evasive with her, but until he was sure there was something to be worried about, it was pointless to worry her.
Killian turned his attention back to the sky, determined to do what they had come out there to do. The Neverland star was more difficult to find in this realm, but after a few minutes more of searching he found it. It filled the glass, twinkling in all blue and green glory. The same color as Emma's eyes, he noted absently. He pulled down the glass hand handed it to Emma.
"Look there," he said, pointing in the direction of the star.
Emma held the glass up and peered through it. "There are so many," she muttered. "Which one is it?"
He nudged her arm slightly to the right. "Do you see the blue and green one?"
"Oh! I see it!" she exclaimed happily. Her grin and excitement was infectious and Killian found himself smiling back at her; his worry temporarily forgotten. "So can you really use it to get there?" she asked.
Killian nodded. "You can, but I don't recommend it. Portal's faster and safer. Especially with this old girl," he explained, running his hand affectionately along the rail. "Plus you don't know how to fly."
"Fly? That's a joke, right?"
"Peter thought it was. That insufferable hellion used that trick for everything. Too full of himself to just walk anywhere, the sod."
"I can't believe I'm talking to you about Peter Pan, like he's a real person."
"Oh, he's very real, love. After all this, you still have trouble believing? Should I be wounded?" he teased.
Emma laughed. "No, it's just that..." she trailed off, trying to form her thought. "When I was little, I read that story, Captain Hook, Peter Pan, the Lost Boys, all of it. I devoured it. Because Peter was like me, no parents, no adults of any kind really. And he refused to grow up. I wanted that, that freedom. Growing up like I did, it was lonely. You never got attached to anything or anyone. But I always had Peter."
"Now I am jealous," Killian mock pouted.
Emma leaned up and kissed him. "Oh, it's no contest. Young Emma was foolish; Captain Hook is totally where it's at."
Killian brushed her hair back with his good hand. "You are an extraordinary woman, Emma Swan."
"Right back at you, Killian Jones."
As they headed back to their cabin, neither saw the star of Neverland blink out of sight.