She brushed the snow off of her shoulders, climbing the stairs toward the loft. She could already hear her husband's mellow tone mixed with the fussy baby upstairs. Unlocking the door, she paced over to them, kissing both on the cheek and then settling her packages on the counter. "I think I should concentrate on economic development as mayor," she said with a sigh. "We need more shopping options in this town."

"Mmmmhmmmm…" David said, twisting his body at the waist to rock the baby back and forth. "Sounds good."

"Does it?" Mary Margaret asked, her hip flexed and eyes watching him. "Because I seem to recall that you were going to go see Hook today. You didn't, though. I did."

David sighed. "I know that's what we decided, but honestly I didn't want to butt in on this. She's our daughter, Snow. We have to take her side in this."

"Even when she's being an idiot?" the woman asked pointedly. "Our daughter is in pain. She's going to be worse when her plan works. Do you want to have to find another portal so we can drag him back here because she won't quit missing him? I sure don't. Do you want to have to explain to him that we sat back and watched because that's what our daughter said she wanted and then changed her mind?"

Neal fussed, a tiny fist waving in the air. David jostled him a bit. "We shouldn't interfere," he said. "She's a grown woman who is capable of making her own decisions."

"You say that now," Mary Margaret said. "But what about when she's here crying over him? What about when Henry asks why he left and why nobody did anything to stop him? Do you have those answers? Because I don't." Her hand slapped against the wooden overhead cabinet. "I want our little girl to be happy."

"Why can't we just wait for her to figure it out?" he mused, resuming the back and forth motion with his son.

The door opened again, Belle stepping with her hands rubbing against each other for warmth. "I'm sorry," she said, blushing. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You didn't," David told her, carrying the baby into the bedroom.

Mary Margaret's face softened as she greeted their house guest, offering the woman cup of tea while she started dinner. Belle gratefully accepted and helped put away some of the items that had been bought.

"You're worried about Emma?" she asked when David had persuaded to run out to the store for some fresh eggs, as Mary Margaret had forgotten to pick them up. "About her and Captain Hook?"

Holding a spoon over the bowl, suspended in mid-air, Mary Margaret paused for a moment. "I don't know how much you know," she said. "And I don't want to violate my daughter's privacy."

Belle sipped from the pink teacup and nodded. "I understand," she said. "I had a visitor today at the library. The captain came by to thank me, he said. But I believe he was looking for information. I think he may be considering going after Rumple."

"What?" Mary Margaret asked. "What makes you think…"

"He was asking questions, lots of them," she said. "He wanted to know about the dagger, specifically. I think he plans to use it to destroy Rumple."

Mary Margaret dropped the spoon onto the counter and grasped the corner of the cabinets with both hands. "Oh God," she said. "It makes sense. He isn't the Hook we know now. He's back to thinking like he was two years ago when all of his energy was focused on killing Gold. Why didn't I realize?"

Belle lowered the teacup to its saucer. "He has every reason to hate my husband," she said. "Milah, the hand, the blackmail, the heart, all of it. He's got every reason."

"He has every reason to move beyond it. Just like she can't run and hide from everything that makes her happy, he can't live on nothing but a diet of revenge. I thought that we were past this."

"Then what do we do?" Belle asked in her thick accent. "How do we help them?"

"I don't know that we can," Mary Margaret admitted. "We may be too late."

***AAA***

Emma's eyes were bleary and her body twisted in knots as she walked into the apartment and threw herself onto the couch with an exaggerated groan. He was seated in the more comfortable leather chair, his booted feet resting on the coffee table and Henry's atlas open on his lap. She opened one eye to watch him, noting the way his lips silently moved to read the names of ports and cities he'd never heard of before. He traced them and sounded them out to commit each one to memory.

"Planning a trip?" she asked, bending one leg over the other so she could pull off her tall boots. They fell to the floor with a sharp thud. "Unfortunately travel agencies aren't really big business in a town that nobody can leave."

He chuckled, folding back a page in the book to mark his place. "I wouldn't know where to start," he said. "Love, I wish you hadn't started undressing already. I was hoping that we might go someplace tonight." He smirked at her torn expression, the one that begged to let her fall asleep there with a bag of microwave popcorn and the other half that ached to be on his arm at some party of restaurant.

"You made plans?" she asked, sinking her socked feet under one of the throw pillows and stretching in vain.

"I just thought out would be nice," he said. "An outing where we could enjoy some of the fine life of Storybrooke."

She lifted her arms over her head, lacing her fingers in her stretch. "What about pizza and Netflix?" she asked, giggling at his confused expression. "Don't worry," she told him when his confusion melted to annoyance. "You never knew what that was before you lost your memory either."

"If it is preferable to you, I would enjoy it," he confessed. "What shall I do to make it happen?"

She grinned, reaching into her pocket and finding the name of the one and only pizza delivery place in Storybrooke as one of her favorite contacts. She called and ordered, the smile never leaving her face as his bewilderment over words like pepperoni is evident. She pointed him to the linen closet and explained that with movies come blankets and junk food. In the 30 minutes before the pizza arrives, she moved the table aside, dragged in all the pillows she could find and built up a wall against the foot of the couch. Taking one of his blankets, she spread it out on the floor and motioned for him to take a seat. She left him there to dig in the refrigerator and pull out soda, beer, and from under the cabinet a bottle of rum that she had kept hidden.

"You are proficient at this, love," he told her. "I take it this is something you enjoy."

She laughed and told him of a certain foster mother who used to spread a sheet out on the floor with air popcorn popper in the middle. All of the children tried to catch whatever they could from the lidless popper, resulting in many more giggles and laughs than actual eating. He wasn't sure what such a device was, but the fact that she smiled when talking about it made him a fan.

She answered the door and dropped the pizza in front of him. Telling him she'd be back in a minute, she scampered into the bedroom and changed into a pair of black sweat pants and a burgundy hoodie that advertised for some self-defense course she had taken years ago. She was pulling her hair into a ponytail when he walked in and grinned.

"I feel overdressed," he said to her.

She looked at his shirt, vest, and tight leather pants. "I agree," she said. "Maybe there is something in here." She dug through the drawers he had searched earlier and found a dark pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt for some obscure band. Tossing them to him, she smiled. "Comfort before fashion."

He joined her a few minutes later, picking out a spot next to her and gratefully accepting a beer that he clinked against her bottled water. She proposed a toast to new experiences for him and then waved the remote control in front of the television. "Is this like a DVD Player?" he asked, eliciting a curious look from her. "Someone mentioned one, but I don't really know what they are."

"I could explain or we could just watch the movie," she said, reclining back on the pillows and bending her legs up in front of her. "I think you'll like this."

She pointed to the light next to the couch and asked him to turn it off. By the time he sat back down the movie had started. He limited his questions, enjoying both the story of The Goonies. She pause it at one point to run to the bathroom and when she came back, he was sneaking another piece of pizza, which she had already claimed as his own. "Unfair!" she declared.

"Pirate!" he challenged back. She reached for the triangle of cheese and meat, stretching to steal it back from him. He grinned at her, holding it just out of reach. She pouted and went up on her knees to gain better access, but he leaned backward and dangled it just above her hands. "It's mine now, love."

"Five minutes ago you didn't even know what pizza was," she said, smacking his arm with her hand. "Now you're stealing it from me."

"I might negotiate," he told her. "What do you have that I might want?"

Her brow furrowed and her mouth became a straight line. "I want that piece of pizza," she said.

He kicked the box lightly with his foot. "There are two other slices in there," he told her, still smirking.

"But that one has the most pepperoni," she reminded him. "I want it."

For a second he looked contrite, lowering his arm and a fraction and moving the prize toward her. At the last moment, he pulled away and took a bite of the pizza. "It is delicious," he told her. "Very cheesy."

She lunged forward, tackling him back into the wall of pillows she had built and knocking the wind out of him. She was between his legs, her hands pressed palm side down on his chest and her chin just below his rib cage. His mouth gaped open at her, unsure if he should laugh or call for help. "Don't tease me with that pizza," she warned him with a snarl.

"You're a bit of a pirate yourself, aren't you," he said, lowering his hands and rubbing the edge of it to her mouth.

She bit into it, pulling back and taking the slice with her. "Thank you," she told him primly as she nibbled on the lukewarm pizza. "You've given me a few lessons when no one was looking."

He readjusted himself to a sitting position, finding her still perched between his legs. Hesitating only a moment, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to him so that her back rested against his front. She stiffened, but didn't pull away. "Perhaps we should watch more of this Netflix," he said near her ear as he reached for the remote to hand to her. She nodded, still not moving away from him. The movie began again, filling the room with adventurous children and teenagers in their quest for treasure. She giggles at parts, which he can feel against his chest just as the sensations of his infrequent chuckles reverberate against her.

Part way through the movie the pizza box was emptied and his arms, that went from resting at his sides to propped on his raised knees to now loosely wrapped around her middle. She has relaxed marginally and her head now lolls against his left shoulder. "Henry's going to hate that I watched this with you," she told him. "He wanted to be here for it."

"I'll be good and pretend I've never seen it before," he told her, his voice somewhat muffled by her hair.

"Our secret," she said. When he was quiet for a longer stretch of time than before, she craned her neck back and met his eyes. "You're not watching the movie."

"Sorry, love," he said, but his eyes didn't leave hers. "I'm a bit in awe that you would be in my arms without protest."

She laughed. "I think we moved to that stage a while back," she admitted.

His hand met hers then, thumb running over her long fingers. A look of interest crossed his face as he lifted her left hand into the soft glow cast by the television. "Such beauty," he mumbled.

"My hand?" she questioned, tilting her head back in confusion. "Really?"

"The rings," he clarified. "They aren't what I would expect."

She pulled her hand away, studying the rings herself before dropping it back down to her side. "You picked them," she said weakly. "Actually, you designed them. I found out after you proposed that you had gone to a jeweler and drawn out what you wanted. I think you were proud of that because you told me three times after you proposed." She laughed and then caught herself.

"I proposed?" he asked. "Swan, what aren't you telling me. First you tell me that we were wed in the Enchanted Forest due to some legal ramifications or something. Then you admit that we were wed again here in this town, but play it off as though it was just for show. Yet I have found portraits of that wedding ceremony. My darling, that wasn't just for appearances. And now you tell me that I proposed to you?" He pushed her up, whipping her around to face him. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

She looked downward, her chin dipping to her chest as her eyes fluttered shut. "Killian," she said with a breathless sigh. "I…"

"Perhaps I should give you time to get your tale together," he said. "I wouldn't want you to have to revise this again."

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I'm so sorry."

"Emma," he said, startling her by using her first name with anger. "I don't know what pleasure you were attempting to gain with this little farce, but I'm not amused. I don't remember the truth of our union, but I'm doubting its potency with your inability to even acknowledge it." He struggled to his feet, leaving her there on the blanket in front of him. She trembled as he went to step away.

"Don't," she said. "You want the truth? Fine, I'll give that to you. You can hear it and then go. I know I've ruined it, but you at least deserve to hear what you're walking away from here."

A/N: I split this chapter in half because the confrontation about Emma's lies needed more attention. It was a hard thing to write, but don't worry. I'm still all about happy endings.

Thanks to my loyal readers and reviewers. There are some interesting theories going on right now.