A/n: I'm not lying when I say that you will all despise me when this fic is over with.

"Fucking Neal," Killian groaned as Emma finally hung up the phone. Her eyes were wide, the shock of the short interchange setting in. "What did he want?" The pirate's voice was tense with dreaded anticipation. He would really hate to have to harm Milah's child for the sake of Emma. He didn't even know the man, but just from Emma's actions on the beanstalk, he knew he wasn't going to like him.

Emma rubbed her temples, "He'll be here in the morning."

"That was all he called to say?"

"Well he also brought up the fact that his father brought up the fact that he's also a father." There was a child like petulance about her as she crossed her arms across her chest, leaning back against the sofa with a heavy sigh.

Killian wrapped his arm behind the small of her back, pulling her into his side. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, inhaling deeply. "What was the whole 'I don't think that's going to happen' part?"

"Eavesdropping much?" Emma arched her brow, rolling her eyes.

"I could only hear your half of the conversation, I'm curious."

She tilted her head, resting her chin against his shoulder. "Well, he certainly went to the School of Gold when it comes to thinking. He felt the need to bring up 'Now we can finally be a family'. Which isn't going to happen."

Killian's heart sank, "But if it's the best for your lad."

"No." Emma gritted, stroking her fingers over his leg. "That's not going to happen. He's a coward. If you really care about someone you stay."

"I can see why he was with you." He brushed his lips against her forehead, a certain sadness in his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"When you say things like that you remind me of Milah." Killian closed his eyes, turning his head away from her. He could be blamed for Neal's willingness to run off, he'd clearly learned that from his mother. "But it's not the obvious kind of commonalities, there's far more different about you than there is the same. I'm sure her son was looking for a woman like his mother."

Emma brushed her knuckles against his cheek, frowning when he flinched away. Her voice wavered as she spoke quietly, "Did you think that she was the one?"

Killian shook his head, "I didn't believe in the whole 'One True Love' stint. Not until recently." His eyes met hers, icy blue eyes boring into her skin. "Not until you."

"Killian-"

"Don't," He silenced her with a kiss, pouring himself out in the simple gesture. "Miss Swan how long has it been since you were last ravished?"

Emma let out an embarrassed laugh, her cheeks turning pink under his hungry eyes, "Two years."

"Oh," Killian shook his head, "That just won't do."

"And how long has it been for you? An infamous pirate like you, I'm sure you rari-"

"I believe it's been over ninety-eight years." Killian smirked at her surprise, "Ah, you see revenge is time consuming, leaves very little room to get laid."

"But, you… Don't look…"

"But I am and I'm slowly creeping up on three and a half centuries." He kissed her again, pulling her onto his lap, "Now, where were we before the phone rang?" Killian tangled his fingers in her hair, dragging her down into a slow building kiss.

Emma pulled back from his lips, trying to speak. "I should-" His lips were against hers again, silencing her, "I have things-"

"Lass, you're going to have a truly fiendish week to look forward to come tomorrow morning." He arched a brow, feigning wisdom as he spoke. "You're going to be coiled up tight, stressed and irritated. Wouldn't you care to be ravished right now? Take your mind off what's to come? Start afresh with your stress levels?"

Emma's lips parted with a gasp as his words and the tone he used giving way to the yearning inside of her building up again. The roguish grin and the gruff of his voice seemed design to strike her straight to the core. "You're just afraid that you're going to have to wait another ninety-eight years." She teased, sliding her hands over his broad shoulders.

"Oh, I'm less concerned about my dry spell ending." Killian smirked up at her, his hand sliding beneath her shirt, his fingers spreading across her stomach, seeking out little spots that made her shudder. "But I'm very concerned about yours coming to an end."

"Well, you mentioned ravishing." She cocked her head to one side, the muscles of her stomach trembling beneath his touch and making her words waver. "I don't think you can properly ravish me here."

Without a word Killian hooked his arms beneath her ass as he hauled her upright in his arms. He kissed her hard as he started to walk blindly towards her bedroom, knowing only the basic layout of her apartment and trusting that little knowledge to find her bed.

Emma curled close to Killian, her fingers brushing over the dark hair that covered his chest. She was far to sated to even think about getting up yet, satisfied enough to just want to lay beside him and rest in the afterglow. Killian had been a far more gracious lover than she'd expected. She hadn't exactly pegged him for being vain in bed, but she hadn't expected the lengths he would go to make sure she was on the edge of oblivion from every different angle before he'd even think about his own needs.

She could still feel the burn of his lips against her skin, the tickle of his scruff as he sought out every sensitive spot she possessed, working each spot like separate instruments that he planned to master. She might have been exaggerating – it had been awhile after all.

Killian's arm tightened around her waist, pulling her to him with a low rumble as he muttered her name. He wasn't quite asleep any longer, but he had no interest in opening his eyes and admitting defeat as the evening sun streaked in through the curtains. She had things she needed to do and rolling around in bed with him was not one of them.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Killian rubbed his fingers along the curve of her hip, pressing his face into her hair.

"More than I expected too." She teased, pressing a kiss to his throat. "Though I have to ask, when was the last time you slept that well?"

Killian opened his eye a peak, "Why?"

"Because you were out cold afterwards. You slept like a deadman."

"It's been awhile." He replied stiffly, bringing her with him as he sat upright. "How long did I sleep."

"Three hours." Emma replied, glancing at the clock on the bedside – she needed to head over to her parent's house soon. "I'm going to have to get up."

"No." The pirate whined, holding her hip a little tighter. "I don't want you to leave yet."

She kissed him softly before replying with a quick. "Tough." She pried his hand off of her, scooting to the edge of the bed and searching around for her discarded clothes. "And Killian…?"

Killian uncovered his face, giving her a sideways glance. "Yeah?"

"This is one room where I don't want to talk about him. I want this to be our escape." She bit down on her bottom lip as she met his eyes. "Because I feel like I'm going to need escape right now and I haven't even talked to anyone yet."

"I can accommodate that." Killian gave her a heartfelt smile as he nodded for her to get up, "You have a kid to go and talk to, fix your sex-hair."

"Aye, aye Captain."

"What's up mom?" Henry looked up from his homework as Emma walked through the front door, shucking her coat off and hanging it on the coat rack.

Despite the considerable amount of time she had spent on making herself look presentable, taming the sex-hair and wearing a shirt that hit the hickey on her shoulder, the smirk on her mother's lips told her that Snow White was one extremely perceptive fairytale character. And it was almost worse knowing that when they were both friends and not mother-daughter, Emma had divulged the fact that she hadn't slept with anyone in almost two years. There were some things that mothers didn't need to know.

"Henry you and I need to have a talk." Emma grabbed a chair from the other side of the table, dragging it around to sit beside Henry's chair. "That math homework is going to have to wait," She forced a pathetic excuse for a smile.

"You look really unhappy, what's wrong?" Henry closed his workbook, looking up at Emma nervously. The last time she'd looked like this she had told him that his other mother had killed Archie. "Has she done something again?"

"No," Emma shook her head, her lips drawing into a thin line as she tried to think of something to say that made sense. "Well… it's about your father."

"What about him?"

"He's um," Emma bit her bottom lip and looked down, "He's coming to Storybrooke."

"Really?" Henry's eyes widened. "But I thought he wasn't…" He tilted his head to the side, his brows furrowing together. "So he's alive?"

"Yeah," Emma frowned, "He's not the man I told you about once upon a time. That was the story that hurt less to tell, but I guess the truth has a way of finding you."

"Why's he coming to town?"

"He's Gold's son."

"He's Balefire!" Henry exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his seat. "Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. You're telling me that you somehow found a fairytale character all on your own before?"

"Apparently, but Henry-"

"This is great mom!" The boy hugged her before she could finish. "Now we can be a family!"

Emma met Mary Margaret's gaze, her mother's concerned expression giving her no assurance. "It's not that simple Henry." She started quietly, "Your father hurt me pretty bad, not physically of course, but he abandoned me. I don't see us getting back together again."

"Maybe he's your True Love though! You know like Snow White and Prince Charming and how they could always find each other." Henry gave her a hopeful smile, the prospect of being a family finally was almost too exciting for him.

"It's not like that Henry." Emma shook her head, cupping the boy's cheek. "He's… not my True Love."

"How do you know?" Henry frowned, his shoulders sinking. "Maybe you're wrong."

"Finding out who my True Love was is the whole reason all of this has happened, kid." Emma leaned back against the chair. "Gold found out about your father being his son and he used me to get the curse to break so he could leave. It was True Love's kiss that broke the curse keeping everyone in town."

Henry's nose scrunched up, "But who?"

"I-…" Emma hesitated, "Killian."

"Captain Hook?" Henry stared at her in surprise. "Didn't you ever read Peter Pan? He's not a good guy mom!"

"I'm aware of that, but… he's not exactly the Hook in the book."

"Didn't he try to hurt Belle?"

Emma looked up at Mary Margaret, "He's not allowed to go patrolling with David anymore."

"I concur," Snow replied, lifting her mug to her lips and drinking a long gulp of tea. "Henry, you need to trust your mother's judgment about Killian." She couldn't exactly say she had been completely for Killian, but if he was making her daughter happy – that was what mattered to her. She didn't want Emma to regret turning something down that could be right for her.

Henry shifted in his chair, his eyes cast down. "I'll give him a chance I guess."

"Thanks kid," Emma nudged him in the arm, smiling at him hesitantly. "How about this, after tomorrow and you meeting Neal, I'll have you and Killian meet up and hang out."

"So my dad's name's Neal?" Henry seemed more focused on that point over the whole Captain Hook aspect of the conversation.

"Yes it is." Emma said tightly, pushing her fingers through her hair. This just proved that no matter how much she wanted her past to just die, to leave her be – it wasn't going to. Neal, whether she liked it or not, was Henry's father. There was something he had said on the phone, that she'd left out when she was talking to Killian about it. Something that troubled her.

You don't know the whole story about why I left, Emma.