A/N: Thanks for the comments and suggestions. I'm glad some of the humor is showing through on this, as that is one of the hardest things for me to write. I hadn't really included much Neal in this story, but I'll try to write a little bit for the next chapter. Thanks again for reading and please go over and leave a comment.

Henry awoke at daybreak with the sound of metal hitting the floor echoing in his head. He looked around his room, wanting to find the offending sound and make it stop. Staggering to his feet, the pre-teen boy stumbled into the hallway and down toward where he could hear the clanging noise getting louder. His brown hair lay messily on his head and the pants of his pajamas were lopsided with one leg up and one down. Yawning, he pushed open the door to his little sister's room and saw his step-father on the floor with a metal pole in front of him and three screws in his hand.

"You know it's rude to do this at this hour," Henry announced, turning on the overhead light to help the man see the difference in the three fasteners. "Why are you…"

"I couldn't seem to sleep and your mother seems to want more than her share of the bed," Killian said. "I got interrupted by your grandfather the other day when I was trying to build this so this seemed to be a good time. I didn't mean to wake you up though. I'm sorry."

Henry blinked in the light, his right hand shielding his eyes. "You know there are instructions, right?"

Killian looked around at the semi-circle of metal and heavy plastic pieces, screws and bolts, wrenches and drivers, as well as a sheet of stickers to decorate the mechanical swing. "I fail to see any."

Henry picked up the cardboard box that Killian had obviously emptied on the floor by dumping the parts in a pile. He looked in it, shook it, and frowned. "Okay plan b is that we look up the instructions on the Internet. I'll do that. Give me a second." He ran from the room and came back with shoes and jeans on with his pajama top. In his hand are three sheets of instructions for the swing.

"How do you know how to do this?" Killian asked as Henry sank to the floor and began sorting the parts according to the diagram. "To build things and find instructional manuals?"

Henry smiled as he shrugged. "I may have two moms, but I've never really had a guy around until you. So I had to know how to do these things. My mom – Regina – would hire someone to build birthday gifts and stuff, but otherwise I learned to do it."

Henry read the top sheet and began inserting and attaching parts. "That's quite a skill," Killian said appreciatively.

Inspecting the main brace, he adjusted the torque carefully and began to work again. His nose would scrunch up as he read the instructions and inspected his own work, but it was always evident when he understood as his eyes would light up and he'd smile brightly. "Did my mom talk to you about the thing?" he asked, his expression hopeful but his voice sounded shy. He looked back to his work and continued the efforts.

"About you being Eva's godfather, yes," Killian said. "I think that would be a brilliant notion. It is an impressive responsibility, but I believe you to be up to the task." He reached his hand out to stabilize the piece that wobbled as Henry bolted it to the motor casing.

An even prouder smile split Henry's face. "Being a big brother is a big responsibility too," he said. "Mom and Elsa both told me how they feel like they have to be responsible for their younger brother and sister. Elsa said that isn't a feeling that ever goes away. So Eva and I will always have that connection."

Sadness clouded over Killian's face for a moment before he nodded in agreement. "I was the younger brother," he said softly. "I had an older brother who was the one who watched out for me, cared for me, teased me, taught me, and was the only family I had for a while. I wish I knew how he managed to be who he was and to be there for me too." Killian cleared his throat and offered Henry a smile. "But I think there is something in some people that make them a great older sibling. You have that. I know that she's going to follow you around, drive you insane with her questions and wanting to be like you, and loving you like nobody else."

"That sounds scary when you put it like that."

"It'll come naturally to you," Killian said. "You won't even have to think about it."

Henry blinked again and laid down the screwdriver in his hand. "She's going to be a lucky girl," he said, smiling. "She's going to have two parents who love her and each other. She's going to have me. She has Elsa. She has grandparents who will be over here all the time and inviting her to spend the night once she's old enough. And when Neal is old enough they'll probably be great friends too."

"She will probably find that all to be too much," Killian laughed. "That's how we all are, you know? We want what we don't have and we complain when we get it. She'll probably think that her mother and I are way too strict and that her grandparents are overbearing."

"That's why it's good that she will have me as both a big brother and her godfather and Elsa as her godmother. We'll be able to be her escape from you guys. We'll be the ones that she complains to when you embarrass her or punish her."

Killian nodded and handed Henry another piece of the swing. "She's going to be a lucky girl," he said.

A few hours later Henry proudly showed his mother the swing, demonstrating how it worked and laughing as she told Killian that she knew her son was the one to put it together. With his school books in his bag, he headed back to Regina's for the day to do homework and talk about the summer study program for science and math that they were all pressuring him to apply for this year.

Killian promised that the next sail would include him, which they usually did. It was one of the first things that Henry found in common with the pirate and one area where Killian felt like he could teach the boy something. Emma had teased in the past that she felt like a third wheel on such adventures, as Killian and Henry seemed to get into quite a zone when it came to ships and water.

There was something about Killian's smile when he was on the water that Emma assumed to be his most youthful expression. The lines of anger and revenge smoothed away and the hardened look his eyes got sometimes was replaced by one of pride and happiness. They had not gone far on their day out together, only a little past the harbor itself. That seemed to be enough for him though, enjoying the pull of the boat on his body and soul while she watched him in his element.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked when she wrapped her arms around herself. "I think I could find you a blanket."

"I'm fine," she insisted, glad that she had thought to leave her hair in a simple braid as the winds cut across the water. "I can see why you are happiest on the water." She turned her face up to the nearly cloudless day and sighed as the sun shone upon her. "It's so peaceful out here."

"Aye," he said, looking beyond her at the soft colors of the water against the green of the horizon. "It is peaceful, but I'm not happiest here."

She opened her eyes to look at him. "You are a pirate," she reminded him. "You must be happiest here."

His head dipped and his hand came out from his side with the palm facing upward. "My love, I'm many things," he mused. "Just as you are a sheriff, a mother, a wife, a daughter, a princess, and the savior, I have different titles too. Though yours are much more regal and beautiful, I am your husband and my happiest place is being next to you."

She let herself smile at his words, then looked at him ruefully. "I'm not going to throw the bet you made with Henry and my father so that you can win," she said. "So you don't have to waste your words."

"They aren't a waste if they make you smile," he said, his hand reaching up to cradle the side of her face. "You seem to forget I spent quite a while unable to say these words to you. I won't let that happen again. You need to know how beautiful and special you are to me. You need to know that I love you."

Closing her eyes, she tilted her face into his cupped hand. "You suck, you know that?" she laughed. "I wanted to do this today so that you would enjoy it. I wanted us to have a day together out here before we were so busy with the baby that we put these things off. It was about you. I was trying to do something for you and you turn it around. I don't have to be reassured all the time, you know?"

His thumb stroked along her cheek. "Perhaps I enjoy telling you how much I love you," he said, dropping his forehead to hers. "Perhaps I feel happiest when I do so."

"How did I get so lucky?" she muttered, pressing her lips to his quickly. "I think sometimes you must be some strange fantasy or dream of mine. I'll wake up and it'll just be some jumble of things that I can't clearly remember or understand, but I'll be alone and cold. I grew up wanting a family. I wanted to be loved and wanted, but I never imagined you would be the one to make that possible."

Her words floated past them as he tenderly kissed her, a softness to the gesture that made her smile against his lips. She was wrapped up against him, her hands high on his back and neck as she felt his tongue trace the seam of her lips. She opened her mouth slightly, enough of an invitation to him. His mouth became more insistent, warm and relentless against hers as his arms pulled her closer, laughing as the baby's kick protested their position.

"She's just jealous of the attention," Emma giggled.

"She's like her mother," he said. "Very well. We should be getting back anyway." He gave her one more kiss and placed his hand where the baby had kicked. "I love you both."

"We love you too," she smiled.

When they finally docked the sun was getting lower in the sky and hidden by the clouds that had been building, and the wind had begun to pick up. Leaves rustled with the new strength as they headed to the car between fat rain drops. Killian held the blanket from their picnic over her head, laughing when complained that none of this was on the daily weather report.

At home he kicked off his boots and had thrown his feet up on the coffee table while Emma dried her hair with a thick fluffy towel. "I should have thought to bring an umbrella," he told her as she sat down with a soft plop on the couch.

"It would have had to have been a jumbo one to fit me underneath," she said. "I'm glad my due date is coming soon because I'm beginning to think I am having a toddler not a newborn."

"Emma," he said softly. "You aren't fishing for a compliment, are you, love?"

She leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. "No, I'm just stating a fact." His arm was loosely thrown over her shoulders, draping down as she snuggled into his side. "I'm not going to complain though."

He chuckled. "Very well, I will just sit here and think how beautiful my wife is in this and any state. She won't believe me, as she is internally dissecting each and every aspect of her condition to find fault with it." His cheek rested on her head. "Thank you for today," he said, flipping the conversation.

"What are you thanking me for?" she asked. "I just went with you."

"And brought us a lunch, spent time with me without all the trappings of this world, and let me enjoy a day of just being your husband," he proposed. "I know you would rather have relaxed here or gone into work, but you didn't. You did something you knew would make me happy."

She pulled away from him and smacked his shoulder. "You act like that means something," she teased. "What? Like I love you or something?"

"I think you might," he challenged back.

"Maybe," she said, playfully chewed at her bottom lip as though she was thinking. "I guess it is possible."