So let's move this along a little. I thought I would have a little fun since Killian has been written as keeping secrets (his deal with Gold before the Heart thing and the lips curse) on the show, I would have him struggling to keep Emma's secret here. Poor guy.

And don't worry, David is plenty happy about the baby. He's just not quite as optimistic as his wife can be so he's going to need a minute to get on board.

Emma threw the soft knitted blanket over her shoulders and shuffled into the living room with a scowl on her face. She had been awake for a few hours already, having woken at almost 5 a.m. and found herself hugging the toilet. Killian had rushed in behind her, offering to hold her hair back or trying to rub circles on her back as she threatened to never have sex with him again and never eat anything that would make a repeat performance. He'd even carried her back to bed when she swore she had nothing left to offer the toilet, cradling her until she dozed successfully for a full 15 minutes. Unfortunately he had not turned off her alarm clock.

"You look like crap," Henry said, his spoon poised halfway between his mouth and the bowl of multicolored cereal that Killian had agreed to serve for breakfast. "Sorry."

She blew a puff of air to push back the hair that had fallen out of her ponytail. "Seriously, kid, not a good way to say hello to your mother," she said, throwing herself onto the couch. "And what are you eating? It smells like a fruit loop exploded with bleach."

Killian clucked supportively as he poured her some of the tea that she had requested the night before, a bit of mint in it that was supposed to settle her stomach. "Here you go, love," he told her as she accepted the cup from him. He pushed her hair back with his hand, smoothing it as she sipped.

"Sorry," Henry said. "Are you okay though? You don't…"

"Watch the comments," she warned. Over the rim of her cup she could see him looking at her with a concerned expression. He wasn't concerned enough to stop shoveling cereal into his mouth, but it was enough that his eyes shone in her direction with it. Lowering her cup and wrapping her hands around it protectively, she offered him a smile. "I'm fine, Henry. It was just a rough night and I'm feeling a little sick today."

"You should go back to bed," he said, repeating what she had told him the other week when he'd had a cold. "You'll feel better with some rest."

Henry cleared his bowl and was rinsing it in the sink as his mother's eyes closed and her head lolled back on the couch cushions. She did look tired, he decided, with the dark circles under her eyes. That was a bit new for him, as his mother was usually the one caring for others rather than letting them care for her. He could not even here what Killian was saying to her, but the man was looking at his mother so affectionately that Henry was wondering if there was something odd going on in Storybrooke.

His mother's eyes opened into tiny slits as she regarded Killian's rhythmic caress of her hair back from her face. She was slightly smiling at her new husband. "I love you, Killian, but I also blame you for this."

"I know," he said, smirking at her. "It's my fault, love. I accept that."

"How is it Killian's fault?" Henry could not help but ask as he passed by them to go brush his teeth before leaving. "Did he give you a stomach virus or something?" He did not wait for an answer as both his mother giggled and the pirate guffawed at the boy's question. The question still hung in the air as he headed straight for the bus stop without ever getting his answer.

"I don't know how other women deal with this," she hissed after the door had closed. "I didn't even have morning sickness with Henry. This time I feel like I'm possessed by a demon trying to destroy me from the inside out. I'm adding this to the list of things I don't like – cheerful pregnant women."

At the same time he daughter was contemplating such women, Mary Margaret smiled widely at the yellow slip of paper in her hands and practically bounced with her steps as her husband pushed the stroller toward her car. Suspicions confirmed, the mother of two was already planning nursery color schemes and trying to figure out if she had kept enough of her maternity clothing from last time she was in such a condition.

"I still think Eva or Ruth for a girl," she was telling her husband as he struggled with the belt on the booster seat. "I know you still object to Leopold for a boy, but it would be nice to honor my father."

"Maybe we should wait a while before we go into name discussions," David said, avoiding his son's sticky grasp. "We have a few months yet to go."

Even in the morning sunshine, his wife was practically glowing with excitement as she regarded the papers in her hand once again. She'd never actually had this experience before with the prenatal care of the modern realm. And for once she was planning to enjoy it, including ultrasounds and birthing classes that she'd heard and read about before. "Maybe we should look for a new house," she said suddenly as her husband successfully managed to fasten the child in the booster seat. "Something big enough for our family with a yard for the kids to play in and closet space?"

She was already behind the wheel of her car, looking back at the way he was trying to wipe their son's hands with a wet wipe and failing as the boy gleefully avoided the man. "David," she said. "I know you're nervous, but I am happy about this. Please just be happy. We don't have any horrible villain or villains to fight. We've been living a quiet life here. Our daughter is happy. Our son is messy but happy. Let's just enjoy this."

He tossed the wipe into the oversized bag that always accompanied their son, giving up on the effort to wipe his hands. "I'm happy," he told her. "Really. I'm just needed back at work and you're needed for the council meeting. So let's get this little guy over to see Belle and we'll celebrate tonight."

Mary Margaret crinkled her nose favorably and sighed. "I'd really like that," she said. "After you pick up my prescription for the vitamins from the pharmacy, right?" She passed him the slip of paper.

The last aisle of the Storybrooke pharmacy contained a wall of refrigerated displays, offering various items that required cooling. Killian rarely did the shopping for their household, finding the process a bit too odd after years of taking what he wanted and not finding stores with every item under the sun. However, Emma had reminded him that stealing everything would only lead her to have to arrest him. So feeling oddly modern later that afternoon, Killian pushed the four wheeled cart down the aisle and stopped in front of the display of orange juice.

Dr. Whale had suggested the juice as a good addition to Emma's diet, though she had made a face and proclaimed that she despised the taste of it. "But it is for the health of our baby," Killian had said at Granny's after the appointment. "Isn't that good enough reason."

She had given him one of her patented looks of disgust and turned the small glass up to gulp down the juice drink. "Happy?" he asked, slamming it down on the table. She mumbled something about pirates thinking they were doctors.

"Deliriously," he answered. "I just want us to do the right things, love. It isn't a punishment."

Emma smiled, putting a hand on his leather jacket covered arm. "Killian," she began. "Once we start telling people about this, they are going to have so much advice for us. From diet and exercise to baby names and sleeping tricks. We can't follow all of it."

"But Dr. Whale said…"

"He said I should get more folic acid, which I will be with the vitamins," she said. "But if it makes you feel better, I'll try to have a little juice." She grinned at the victorious expression on his face, one that she assumed he had made with every sea battle he had won and every treasure he had procured. It seemed such a minor thing, but at the same time she was happy that he was that proud of the tiny steps he could take to care for his unborn child already.

Killian reached in and pulled out three cartons of the juice one at a time, ignoring the voice inside that told him he would have to explain himself to his wife. He wanted to do the right things, the good things, the helpful things, even if that meant that he poured her juice each morning and rubbed her feet at night.

"I thought you were a rum man," David said, rounding the corner with a tiny white bag from the pharmacist. "And I've heard of orange juice mixed with champagne, but that looks like a bit much."

The men's eyes met as Killian lowered the last carton into the cart and both darted away as they realized where they had just seen each other. With a curt nod, they both acknowledged the other and then stood awkwardly in the center of the aisle. "It's good to see you, David," Killian answered, shifting his weight so his hip bumped the cart handle. "I hope you aren't here for any medicine related to our joint dinner?"

David looked at the white bag in his hands and quickly dropped it to his side. "Oh no," he said, waving his free hand out in front of him. "Snow just asked me to pick up a prescription for her. No big deal."

"Aye," Killian answered. "I suppose it is that sort of a day here in Storybrooke. I'm running a few errands for Emma." He glanced down at the cart and the odd assortment of grocery items that he had planned to purchase, including an earlier one from the farmers' market. Much to Emma's amusement, he had picked up two magazines and a brochure on nutrition for pregnant women and was buying all the foods suggested.

David's face clouded at the cans of lentil soup, crackers, ginger ale, multiple containers of yogurt, a package of almonds, bread, a jar of fig jam, and the half gallons of orange juice. It was an odd combination, as was the white package similar to the one he was holding too. "Is Emma feeling well?" he asked. He'd only seen her for a few minutes that morning, chugging water and munching on saltines at her desk as she barked back that she was fine.

Killian blinked twice. "Aye," he said softly. "She's…"

David held his hand our again and protested. "Just tell her we're worried about her," he said. "She's looked tired lately."

"You want me to tell my wife that she looks tired?" Killian asked skeptically smirking. "Mate, you've been married much longer that I, but I'm not ignorant to a woman's feelings. She might bloody well lop my head or some other appendage off if I insult her in that way."

"She might well at that," David agreed with a short chortle. "Fine, don't say anything at all. Just…"

David looked back into the cart and surveyed the items, his mind running through the list that he had seen on the nutritional pamphlet from just that morning. It was almost all there, including a stalk of broccoli peeping out from the farmers' market bag that Killian had brought in with him. He almost reached forward to grab the slick white package that was identical in shape and size to the one still in his hand. Suddenly the reality dawned on him. "Killian," he said with a no nonsense tone taking over his inflection. "Emma's pregnant?"

The pirate looked as though he hoped the floor would swallow him up whole on the spot. Shifting his weight from one boot to the other, he mumbled something that David asked him to repeat. "She specifically asked that I not tell you or your wife as of now," he said. "So please don't ask that I betray that confidence."

Killian could not help but notice the way the other man's face went from white to red to white again and then somewhere in between and his fists clenched tighter as his eyes practically bugged out of his head. "Emma's pregnant," he said. "Snow's…" The man seemed to actually be having a heart attack in the middle of the store. Killian lurched forward to help support David as the man's breathing was erratic.

"Dave," he said, using the name that his father-in-law usually hated and corrected. "Are you ill?"

David shook off the man's attempts to help him breath normally and glared at the floor as though it had just announced his wife and daughter were pregnant at the same time. "I'm fine," he squeaked, sounding much like Emma when she was answering the same question lately. "I just…I wasn't really expecting to be right. I'm not usually the perceptive kind of man when it comes to…"

Killian laughed and patted the man between his shoulders. "I'd work on the reaction to be better prepared when Emma tells you," he joked. "That display was a little dramatic."

David gripped the bag in his hand a little tighter as Killian returned to the cart. "You're telling me that your reaction to becoming a new father wasn't on the dramatic side? You might seem like you always have everything together, but news that you're about to become a father is not something I would think you're used to hearing. At least I hope not."

"Aye," Killian said with a smirk. "I haven't much experience in that area. And the news did shock me even if it wasn't completely a surprise." Killian managed a smile, letting out a tense breath through his tightly clenched teeth. "I'm hoping it won't be much longer before she divulges the news widely. Keeping another secret in this town is a challenge that doesn't interest me as a sport."

That made David smile. "That's good to hear after everything that's happened in the past," he said. "But your secret is safe with me for now. I just hope you're both ready for Mary Margaret's reaction when you two do tell her. She's not going to be able to contain her excitement on this one."

Note: I have to give credit for the items that Killian was buying at the store to my husband. When he found out I was pregnant he spent close to $150 on items that he saw on the essential food list for pregnant women. I didn't even like most of the items, but he practically chased me around the house trying to get me to eat them. I just pictured Killian being that same way that he finally had something he could offer Emma and he was going to jump in with both feet.