A/N: So I know I originally told lenfaz that there would be ten chapters of this, but I think I'm going to renege on that promise and end it at this one. I can't think of another chapter that would really add to the story in a meaningful way, and I want to end on a high note, with this piece of pure fluff. Lena, I hope you've liked your gift! It's been such a pleasure getting to know you and writing for you! As always, so many thanks go out to everyone who comments/reblogs/shares/likes/reads/etc. And now, without further ado, I present you with, the last chapter!


Have I told you lately that I love you
Have I told you there's no one else above you
Fill my heart with gladness
take away all my sadness
ease my troubles that's what you do

Emma set down the last box in the living room, dragging the back of her hand across her forehead to wipe away the sweat that had accumulated there. She grinned tiredly at Mary Margaret and David, who had both collapsed on the couch after bringing up their boxes. Though Emma didn't think she had much stuff, a few days in Killian's apartment had confirmed that it wasn't really big enough for the three of them. So with the help of her friends and his brother, they had endeavored to move into one of the larger apartments in the other building that Killian's landlord owned. Mary Margaret and David smiled warmly, looking as tired as Emma felt, and Liam lay sprawled on the floor, putting on a show of being completely exhausted. Elsa regarded them all with a shy smile, her hand unconsciously rubbing over her growing belly (she and Liam had made the announcement a few weeks earlier). Grace and Henry laughed from where they were perched on breakfast bar, with Killian's assurances that it would be the only time they would be allowed up there, while he cooked them all some grilled cheeses. Emma looked around at all of them and knew, without a doubt, that this was what she had been missing all her life – this was her home, this was her family.

"Thanks for helping us," she said to her friends, unable to fully convey the depth of her gratitude.

"Our pleasure," Elsa replied. "Not that I really did much."

Emma didn't miss the way Mary Margaret flashed a slightly envious look at Elsa's small baby bump. She knew her friend had always wanted children, knew that David was of a similar mind, and had always assumed it was only a matter of time before they had their very own bundle of joy. Now, seeing Mary Margaret's wishful glances, Emma wondered if perhaps there was something her friend hadn't told her. Still, it made her think about her future with Killian, if maybe he wanted another kid. Emma had never thought about it seriously, never really wanted it, mostly because she though she could never be good enough for a kid. How would she even know how to be a parent when she'd never had one? But now, with Killian, it didn't seem like such a crazy idea anymore. She just couldn't shake the image of a little girl with his raven hair spiraling in curls past her own emerald eyes.

Emma was torn from her reverie by Killian's warm chuckle in her ear, realizing that he had been speaking to her while she was in her own little world.

"What was that?" she asked, her cheeks flushing bright pink.

"I offered you a grilled cheese," he grinned, eyeing her with curiosity.

"Oh," she replied, seeing the plate he was holding toward her in his good hand, and quickly picking up one of the remaining sandwiches. "Thanks."

"Anytime, love," Killian answered, pressing a kiss to her temple.

He had been more free with his affection since she returned, seemingly less afraid of scaring her off, or maybe it was just that he couldn't hold it in. Whatever the reason, since she had returned from Boston (the second time, after helping Ruby find a suitable replacement), he had been all about the small kisses and the tender touches. It surprised Emma to find that she didn't mind it at all, in fact, she often found herself wanting to return these small signs of affection, to let him know that she was equally pleased to be by his side.

"Emma?" Mary Margaret's voice floated into her consciousness, and once more Emma found herself zoned out in the middle of the room with all eyes on her.

"Sorry?" she asked.

"I asked if there was anything else you needed help with before we head out," her friend repeated, offering Emma an inquisitive look.

"Oh, no, I don't think so." She looked at Killian, who shrugged and shook his head, before turning her attention back to her friends. "We really only have to unpack the boxes, and I'm not sure we'll do much of that this afternoon anyway. I don't know about you guys, but I'm exhausted. I think we'll probably just get out the bare necessities today and leave the rest until tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" David asked, eyeing the stacks of boxes as though they were a large mountain. "It might be easier if we all help…"

"Nah, don't worry about it, mate," Killian joined in, giving them all a mischievous grin. "We'll just make Henry do it all, anyway. That's what sons are for, are they not?"

"Hey!" Henry piped up, making everyone laugh.

"Well, if you're sure," Mary Margaret answered, sounding hesitant.

"We're sure," Emma said, smiling. "Go home, take a nap, enjoy the rest of your day."

"We will," David replied, standing and pulling Emma into a hug.

"I think we might head out too," Liam interjected, looking at his wife and trying to gauge her mood.

"Sure," Killian answered, pulling his brother to his feet and into a rough hug.

"Thanks again," Emma said to them all as they grabbed their purses and car keys and house keys and children.

They waved their goodbyes and Emma closed the door behind them, leaning against it with a tired sigh and smiling at Henry and Killian. The former was trying to shift a particularly heavy box off another so he could get to his books, while the latter scrubbed clean the pan he had used for lunch. As Emma watched them, she was struck once more by the feeling of home that was spreading a pleasant warmth from her stomach. She slipped her arm around Killian's waist and pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck, knowing that he was smiling without seeing it.

"I love you," she whispered, and he twisted in her arms to capture her lips in his.

"I love you too, Emma," he answered, his breath tickling her ear.

They unpacked the bedding, moved the furniture into place, and reassembled their beds. That night, the three of them ate pizza off napkins and watched Doctor Who on Netflix. Henry fell asleep on the couch far earlier than was normal, and Killian had to carry him to his room down the hall. He and Emma made their own way to bed not long after, curling into each other on the comfortable new mattress they had bought. Killian flicked the lights off and Emma burrowed further into his side, sighing lightly at the warm feeling it gave her.

"Hey, Killian?" Emma asked in a whisper after a few minutes. "Are you awake still?"

"Aye, love, what is it?" he returned, voice a deep rumble that said he had been very close to sleep.

"Do you ever think about the future?" she inquired, propping herself up on her elbow to look at him, squinting through the darkness.

"Of course," he answered, turning his head to look at her.

"What do you think about?" He was quiet for a moment, considering the answer, and how much to tell her.

"I think about you, and Henry," Killian said simply, but Emma clearly wasn't satisfied.

"Do you think about getting married?" she pressed, her fingers plying with the edge of the blanket where it lay over his chest.

"Sure," he replied, rolling onto his side to see her better. "One day, when you're ready, when we're all ready." Emma nodded, more to herself than to him.

"What about …" she lowered her voice, almost hesitant to bring it up. But she was curious what he thought, and part of her felt that it might help her work out her own opinion on the matter. "Do you ever think about wanting another kid?" She heard his sharp intake of breath, but for once, Emma wasn't sure how to interpret it.

"I don't know, love," he admitted, shrugging as much as he could from his position. "Sometimes I think it would be nice, but I'm not sure I need it, per se. Have you thought about it?"

"I didn't use to," Emma answered, eyes focusing on her fingers instead of locking with his. "This afternoon though, I don't know. I thought it might be nice, one day. When we're all ready. But I don't need –"

"Emma," Killian breathed, effectively halting her babbling, "if it's something you think you want, then we should consider it. We can talk about all the things making this decision would entail. Alright?"

"Okay," Emma sighed, breathing out and relaxing all her muscles, not sure when she had become so tense. "When we're ready."

"Aye," he replied, his voice becoming drowsy once more.

"Goodnight, Killian," she said, feeling her own eyelids starting to grow heavy.

"Goodnight, my love," he mumbled in reply, eyes already closed, and it was only a matter of minutes before Emma heard soft snores issuing from him.

"I love you," Emma whispered, nuzzling her face closer to him and breathing him in, lulling herself to an easy sleep.


(They have a kid.

It's a girl.

She's four days older than Mary Margaret and David's son.

They're best friends.)