I want to send a great big shout out to my beta, Lori, for always taking time from her day to review my work.
The content might be a bit steamy for some, but I don't think it warrants a ratings change. If you disagree, let me know. I'll be happy to change it.
Enjoy.
"Emma, I'm going to take the Jolly Roger out for a few days," Killian told her the next morning as she was preparing to depart the ship to start her day.
"What?" she gasped.
"She needs to stretch her legs," he explained as he motioned towards the sails, "I need to stretch my legs. Some of the fishermen have talked about this spot supposedly full of the best fish the seas have to offer."
"Is this about me? Are you leaving because I can't make up my mind?" she tried to fight the tears she felt forming. She had to remind herself that she wasn't this weepy woman.
"If this was about you, I would stay," he told her, "I just need a few days of open water. It's the sailor in me."
"And I like that sailor," she smiled, "But I curse its need to set sail."
"It's only a few days," he assured her.
"Define a few," she tried to keep the banter light.
"I'll be back for tomorrow's sunset," he vowed as he captured her lips in a deep kiss.
"I'm going to hold you to that," she stated as she tugged at his jacket, "I'll be waiting at the docks when you return."
"I hope so," he kissed her softly, "Keep an eye out for my sails."
"Are you sure about this?" Mary Margaret helped her daughter pack her belongings still left in her apartment, "Why can't you stay here or at the B&B?"
"Henry was right. It's time to put down some roots," Emma stated.
"I haven't seen Hook around," Mary Margaret broached the subject the townspeople had been talking about since the prior evening when Killian's ship had not docked, "And Neal's been walking around with a curious grin."
"He would," Emma rolled her eyes as she labeled the box she'd just taped up, "It's not what you or anyone in this town thinks. Killian just took off for a couple of days. He could be back at any time."
"So things are still undecided," Mary Margaret concluded.
"I don't know," Emma groaned.
"What really is the problem?" Mary Margaret captured her daughter's hands and forced her to truly face the issue, "Don't feed me this nonsense about it's Neal versus Hook…Killian. Neal is out of the picture. He has been since we left Neverland."
"I'm afraid if I follow my heart I'm going to lose everyone else," Emma's usually tough exterior shattered, "Henry, you, David."
"Why would you lose us?" Mary Margaret asked, "All any of us want is for you to be happy."
"I'm happy when I'm with Hook," Emma replied as tears ran down her cheeks, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but when I'm with him I feel like me. I'm not the savior. I'm not the orphan. I'm me and that is enough for him."
"It's enough for us too," Mary Margaret cried along with her daughter, "Follow your heart, Emma. We will support you no matter what you decide. Those that can't support you, don't really love you because loving someone means wanting them to be happy no matter what."
"It's Hook," Emma smiled through her tears.
"Then don't let him get away," Mary Margaret smiled.
"Emma, the Jolly Roger is coming back to port," Henry came in with his usual youthful exuberance.
"Go," Mary Margaret told her as Emma dried her eyes, "I'll keep packing up your things. We'll meet later."
Emma hugged her mother and then took off. Henry went to follow her, but Mary Margaret corralled him by insisting that he pack up his belongings that he'd been so skilled at avoiding.
"I thought you said you were going to be waiting for me at the docks when my ship came in?" Killian smiled as she came running down the docks as he was tying up the Jolly Roger.
"Shut up," she greeted him with a kiss as she wrapped herself around him.
"This was exactly the welcome I was hoping for," he grinned as he found himself pinned against the side of his ship.
"No talking," Emma continued pecking away at his lips.
"I missed you too, Love," he grinned. He pulled away abruptly as he saw the tear stains down her cheeks. "Is everything alright?"
"Much better now," she nodded as her eyes smiled brightly back at him, "I'm glad you're back."
"I have to deliver my catch. Where should I meet you?" he asked as he brought his hand to her face to cup her chin.
"I need a few hours," she replied, "Meet me outside Granny's at sunset."
"Sunset it is," he vowed as he angled his lips against hers. It took a few more minutes before they parted and went about their tasks. Killian watched Emma walk away for a few minutes as he replayed the look she'd given him when she was in his arms. He spoke to himself with an amused smirk, "That's what I call a welcome home kiss."
On her way back to her parents' apartment, Emma was stopped in her tracks by Neal.
"He's really back?" Neal frowned as he kicked at ground with his feet.
"Killian was never gone," Emma told him.
"But after he didn't come back last night I thought that maybe you and he were done," Neal replied, "That you told him to leave."
"I've kept you both in limbo, and that was wrong of me," Emma sighed.
"You chose him, didn't you?" Neal realized.
"Are you surprised?" Emma nodded, "What we had was a long time ago. We were kids; or rather I was a kid, a stupid, naïve kid. I will always hold a special place for those memories, and I will never regret it because of the son we share. For the longest time, I wondered why you did what you did, but I don't anymore. I got closure, and I hope that maybe now you can have that too. Go back to New York if you want. Stay here in Storybrooke. Do whatever you want to do, but do it for you."
"Henry said that you bought a cottage overlooking the water," Neal stated.
"Putting down roots," Emma nodded, "Finally acting like a grown up."
"Maybe I should give that a try," Neal nodded.
"See you around, Neal," Emma smiled as she stepped past him.
Emma still couldn't believe her eyes when she took in her surroundings. She'd only seen the small cottage the previous day, but she'd known the instant she first stepped inside that this was the place she was meant to live. Thanks to the seed money that Neal had left in her car after she'd gotten out of prison ten years ago, she had enough for the down payment and a steady income as the sheriff to make the monthly payments. The bank had even allowed her to move in before the paperwork was finished.
The outside of the cottage had Emma thinking it was something out of her mother's fairytale story. It looked small, but it felt roomier on the inside. Henry had already picked out his bedroom and had been bringing over things from his two bedrooms.
Navigating the circular, metal staircase to the master bedroom with boxes had been tricky. It had surprised all that it was David to suggest magic to get the furniture into the bedroom, but Blue was eager to lend a helping hand, with the assistance of a tiny bit of fairy dust. What Emma hadn't realized was that the dust also transformed the room into her perfect oasis. No interior decorator was required.
"It's nearly sunset, Emma," Mary Margaret told her daughter as she was putting the finishing touches on the dinner she'd prepared for Emma and Killian.
"I'd better get Hook then," Emma surveyed her surroundings. There were still boxes lying around, but the homey comforts still came through. It was presentable.
"I'll finish up here and then slip out before you get back," Mary Margaret assured her.
"Thank you for all your help," Emma hugged her mother, "I couldn't have done this without you."
"Except for the edible dinner part, yes, you could," Mary Margaret assured her, "You'd better get going before Hook thinks you stood him up."
Emma made her way quickly to Granny's where Killian had made himself comfortable at one of the tables in the outside patio area and was reading a book.
"What's the latest?" Emma asked as she reached for the book, "Jules Verne."
"Another suggestion of Belle's," Killian nodded, "It's quite good."
"You certainly love those classics," she smiled as she pulled him to his feet.
He was surprised when she pulled him in the opposite direction of entering the diner.
"No dinner, Love?" he asked as he resisted her direction by pointing towards the diner with his hook, "I've been a sea for a few days. I'm quite hungry for things other than fish."
"Then it's a good thing I didn't make fish," she pulled him along.
"You cooked?" he swallowed nervously.
"Relax, Captain," she chuckled, "Mary Margaret cooked. I'm just serving."
Killian released a breath of relief.
"Someday I am going to cook for you," she threatened him.
"I've lived for over three hundred years, Emma. Isn't food poisoning a cruel way to end my existence?"
"Bloody pirate," she muttered under her breath as she continued to pull him along, bypassing both the B&B and Mary Margaret's apartment.
Killian became nervous as they kept walking. He nearly walked right into her when she stopped abruptly in front of a white picketed fence. "I never thought I'd be such a traditional girl," Emma began as she unlatched the fence and pushed her way through.
"Traditional, how?" he asked as he watched her pull a key from her jacket pocket and unlock the door.
"White picket fence," she motioned towards the yard, "It's kind of the idyllic fifties home accessory."
"You are still the Sheriff here, so this isn't considered breaking and entering, is it?" he looked around nervously to see if anyone was witnessing their activities.
"I have a key, Einstein," she held it up for him to see.
"Einstein?" he inquired.
"Famous scientist, considered a really smart guy, some said a genius," she explained as she pushed the door open, "Substitute his name for genius. It's an expression."
Killian made a mental note of looking up this Einstein chap in the encyclopedia next time he went to the library as Emma stepped into the home. As Killian stepped in behind her the smells of dinner cooking overwhelmed his senses. "Any chance of you taking cooking lessons from your mother?"
Emma rolled her eyes as she watched him glance around the room, his eyes lingering at the boxes.
"What is this place?" he asked.
"This is my new home," Emma told him as she tossed the key on the table by the door.
"Home?" he repeated in surprise.
"Henry wanted some permanent roots here, and after a second of thought so did I," Emma explained, "I'd only started looking yesterday when I found this place. It had been abandoned for twenty-eight years, but it's in remarkable condition, even the furniture. I really only had to replace the mattresses on the beds, but I would have done that anyways."
"It's charming," he told her.
"That's what my mom said yesterday when she saw it," Emma stated as she motioned towards one of the doors, "This is Henry's room."
Killian had a mental flash of a picture outside of one of the cabins of his ship as Emma opened the door and showed him inside.
"This is an extra bedroom," Emma opened another door, but quickly closed it as she pulled him up the circular staircase. His eyes glanced upon the open floor plan, which was even more familiar than Henry's room, but she didn't stop her climb as she pushed her way through an opening in the ceiling. "This was the real selling point."
"What a view," Killian surveyed the landscape that overlooked the bluff the home was sitting on.
"That looks like the Jolly Roger," she spotted his ship with a telescope she'd tucked away.
Killian turned towards her abruptly to see her standing behind a wheel. The roof of the home looked every bit like the deck of his ship.
"I figured you'd still get plenty of sea time so you wouldn't be missing the ship, but this was a nice touch," she explained as he took the telescope from her and collapsed it with his hook.
"What are you doing to me, Swan?" he grinned as she pulled him towards a candlelit dinner table with a red and white checkered tablecloth and droopy candles.
"Did you ever see Lady and the Tramp?" she inquired as she sat him in one of the chairs, "What am I saying? Of course you haven't."
"Are you calling me a tramp, Love?" he laughed as she poured wine into two glasses.
"You know tramp might not mean what you think it means in this day," she smirked.
"In my day it meant a drunkard who wanders the streets," he told her.
"And in my day it means a girl who will sleep with nearly anyone," she took her seat as she gave his definition some thought, "But I guess in the context of the movie, your definition is more accurate."
"So I'm a drunkard who wanders the streets," he frowned.
"No," she protested.
"Well, I certainly can't be the lady in this little moving picture of yours," he told her, "I'd hate to state the obvious here…"
"The movie title isn't the important part here," she cut him off, "It's one of the scenes in the movie that I'm referencing."
"Set the scene for me, Love," he sat patiently as he took a drink from his glass.
"Well, there were these two dogs…" she began.
"So we're dogs here," he raised an eyebrow, "Should we get on our hands and knees?"
She silenced him with a harsh glare, "One of the dogs was turned out of her home because of these two evil Siamese cats and this street wise dog finds her and takes her under his wing. They end up in the back alley of this Italian restaurant where the one dog is a frequent visitor. The jolly Italian chef serves them a plate of spaghetti and meatballs as he sings 'Bella Notte'. As they are eating their spaghetti they happen to start eating the same strand of pasta and end up kissing."
"I don't need pasta to kiss you, Love," he grinned.
"It's just a romantic scene," Emma told him, "I wanted to give us that. I didn't even have Mary Margaret make pasta."
"This would have been romantic without setting that scene," he told her as he made a production of pointing out their surroundings, "A beautiful sunset over the water, birds singing around us, a beautiful girl sitting across from me. What else is needed?"
"I suppose not much else," she smiled as she reached for his hand.
"How about we eat, Love?" he suggested.
Emma nodded as she released his hand and lifted the silver cloches away from their meals. It was a simple meatloaf and mashed potatoes.
"Tastes like Granny's," Killian noted as he took his first bite, "Are you sure you're not trying to pass off her cooking as your mother's?"
"If I were trying to pass off Granny's cooking, I would have said I made it," she pointed out.
"Fair point," he chuckled.
"I think it is Granny's recipe though," Emma offered as they continued on with their meal, mostly in silence. It was only at the end that Emma began to shiver in the night air.
"Come here, Swan," Killian pulled her to her feet and brought her into his arms.
"I don't know how I managed last night," she admitted, "I could not get warm. What have you done to me, Pirate?"
"I haven't done anything to you, Love," he smiled.
"I love how you call me that," she smiled as she looked into his eyes as they began to dance in time with the waves crashing against the bluff below, "Whether it's Love, Lass, or just saying my name."
"Something is different in your eyes tonight," Killian noted, withholding any term of endearment to have the serious conversation.
"I found a home," she replied as she held his gaze, "And it's not just here in Storybrooke or even here in this cottage. It's right here, right where I'm currently standing, right here in your arms."
"Does that mean?" he asked with a hopefulness that was hard to miss.
"That I cut Neal free, yes?" she nodded.
"Emma," he whispered against her lips.
"I chose, Killian," she added as her eyes trailed to his lips to watch them turn into his sexy smile, "I choose you."
Killian's lips crashed against hers, swallowing the moan of satisfaction that escaped as he plundered her mouth.
Emma had never been kissed with such passion, such unadulterated need. The feel of it all completely overwhelmed her. She held onto his shoulders and allowed him to be her guide. His warmth thoroughly surrounded her.
"Killian," she moaned as his lips trailed down her neck to her collarbone.
"We should relocate," he told her as his hands found the hem of her shirt.
"God, yes," she agreed as she reluctantly broke free from his embrace and pulled him towards the door to the circular staircase.
At the last second he released her hand and went to the table to blow out the candles before following her down to the master bedroom. "I'd hate to burn down your cottage on the first night."
"Who knew a pirate could be a hero?" she smirked as she peeled away his leather jacket, letting it fall to the floor with a satisfying thud, "I have been dreaming about doing that since I first saw you in it."
"Turn about is fair play, Love," he told her as he slid his hook beneath the red leather she'd been wearing the first day they'd met. The coolness of his hook against her skin did nothing to diminish the heat she felt permeating her body as he slid the leather from her shoulders.
Emma's eyes slid closed as his hook trailed along her collarbone with enough pressure to leave a temporary mark, but not enough to cut through the skin. The clicked of metal brought her back to reality as she watched him disengage his hook and toss it on the table a few steps away. The clanging sound barely registered as her lips descended upon his as she pulled at his clothes with each step towards the bed. A path of discarded clothes littered their way to the bed as she fell upon it, taking him with her.
She could feel his touch everywhere. His fingers blazed a trail along her body they went. She would have sworn he had two hands as his touch was everywhere. She was on fire as he touched and tasted every bit that she had to offer.
"So beautiful," he whispered as he took a moment to appreciate her body. The moment of inaction was too much for Emma as she rolled them so that she was on top.
"Have I told you how much I appreciate your aggressive streak?" he gave her his devilish grin.
"Shut up and kiss me," Emma smiled as her lips whispered against his.
"As you wish," his head rose off the pillow to capture her mouth. His arms wrapped around her body keeping her chest pressed tightly against his as they both savored the contact.
Emma didn't protest when he rolled them again so that he was once again on top. "We'll try it your way next time," he vowed as his hand felt around on the bed for something that he'd tossed earlier as she been too busy pulling at his clothes to notice.
"What are you…" she was going to ask what he was looking for when he produced the condom that had sparked so much embarrassment the first time they'd attempted this particular dance. There was none this time.
"Open it for me, Love," he requested, "It looks as if two hands might be advantageous here, and I think speed is a necessity."
"I hope you can live up to your reputation, Pirate," she tore at the foil wrapper to open it, "I've been fantasizing about this moment for awhile. I'd hate for you to disappoint."
"Sounds like a challenge," he raised an eyebrow, "I love a good challenge."
"Good to hear," she laughed as he snatched the condom and proceeded to put it on with a fluidity that was surprising considering it was likely his first time using one. Her laughter ended abruptly as he filled her. Her moan of satisfaction echoed in the room.
"That boosts a man's ego," he stilled for a moment.
"As if you need it," she challenged him as her fingers pressed into shoulders, grabbing ahold of the first bit of flesh she could get to keep her grounded as she the sensations over took her. His arrogant swagger was certainly well earned.
"You might want to hang on, Love," he warned her, "There be bumpy seas ahead."
Emma's hand grasped at his shoulders a bit tighter as they began to rise and fall together as wave after wave of pleasure overtook them.
Completely spent, Killian collapsed against her.
"I think I figured out where your heat originates," Emma stated after a few moments spent trying to catch her breath.
"Where is that, Love?" he laughed as he nipped at the juncture where her collarbones met.
"Between your legs," she gave him a mischievous smile, "Wow."
"That's a good wow," he told her.
"You put those fantasies I've been having to shame," she ran her fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his face.
"Did I live up to my pirate reputation?"
"Oh, yes," she nodded her head vigorously.
"One question," he asked, "What does one do with this condom now?"
Emma burst out laughing as she brought his lips to hers.
Killian watched Emma sleep soundly with the aid of the moonlight shining in through window. She had such a serene look about her.
He was still in disbelief that they'd gotten to this moment. She'd chosen him. She'd welcomed him home with her arms open wide and told him that she'd found a home in his arms. Being an orphan himself, he knew how rare that feeling was, and he hoped with all his might that he didn't waste her trust. It was the rarest of treasures that he'd ever hope to find.
"You awake?" he heard Emma ask as she reached up to touch his chin.
"I've been watching you sleep," he told her as he ran a finger along her jaw tenderly.
"Aren't you tired?" she let out a healthy yawn as she stretched out her sore muscles. She hadn't been intimate with anyone in longer than she'd care to admit.
"Never felt more awake in all my life," he kissed her forehead softly.
"Everything alright?" she asked as she searched his eyes for any sign of doubt about the giant leap they'd taken in their relationship.
"Everything is wonderful," he assured her. His eyes locked with her.
As much as his eyes were smiling, Emma still saw a small amount of fear in them. She could have ignored it. She knew he would want her to, but she'd lived with buried feelings for far too long.
"Don't shut me out," she requested, "Tell me what's wrong?"
Killian's eyes closed for a moment as he released a sigh, "I'm afraid to sleep. I'm afraid to fall asleep because when I wake up this whole night will only be a dream."
"You still can't allow yourself to believe that I would actually choose you," she concluded.
"No," he responded simply, "Do you really know the man that you've chosen?"
"I know everything that I need to know," she assured him.
"Do you?" he challenged her, "Emma, I've done things…"
"I know," she guided his eyes back to hers when he looked away abruptly, "You've done awful things. I've seen you in action a time or two. I know how ruthless and calculating you can be. I'm not blind or naïve. I know what you're capable of, but I also know how kind and gentle you can be."
"How do you reconcile that?" he asked.
"I don't know," she shrugged, "I don't know why I'm able to look past the villain inside you, but I am. I know you have doubts about yourself, but do you doubt me?"
"No," he responded instantly.
"I've made my decision," she reminded him, "And I stand by it and will defend it if necessary. I promise that my eyes are open wide. I believe that people can change when they want to. I believe you can change because I know you want to. I've seen it already in the way you've tried to fit into the town. I've seen it as you've tried to make amends."
"You make me want to be a better person, if that's even possible," he replied.
"We can't change the past," Emma told him, "Those things that you did can't be undone. It is possible to change who you are, and you're doing that."
Killian dove in for a kiss that left Emma breathless.
"Do you have more of those condoms, Love?" he broke away for a moment, "I think we're going to need them."
"Nightstand drawer," she motioned towards the appropriate drawer as she brought her hand to the back of his neck to draw him back to her.
Killian would fumble several times for the drawer that night.
TBC…