G - Emma and Killian bond over their love of the sea.

Emma knew this was a bad idea. If anyone found her, they'd make all sorts of assumptions about why she was sitting out here on the docks, her feet hanging over the water even though it was only half-way to spring and still freezing out.

They would think about the pirate whose ship was out at the docks, how he he was obviously not the father of her child, currently enchanting the entire town with his promises of being the best father to his son, how much he loves Emma.

The truth is, she's not out here for either of them; she's here for herself.

She's always loved the sea. Back when she'd spent so much time alone in Tallahassee, there had been whole days she'd spend on the beach, watching the waves roll in and out, sandcastles washing away as the tide came in. Even in Boston, she'd find excuses to spend hours by the river, even though it was nothing like the ocean.

This is really the first chance she's had since they got back to just be. There had been no respite in coming home, not when things just started falling apart. Between it all, there had been no time for thought, everyone demanding different things from the savior.

But now it's just her and the open sun is bright, bright enough coming off the water to badly blind her, but she didn't mind, just squints and from liking at one spot too long. She takes a deep breath and lets it out, relaxing her shoulders.

For one deliciously long moment, all she hears is the sound of the water pressing into the cement of the docks. All she feels is the sun, warming her skin pleasantly.

And then she hears it, the sound of boots hitting the wood of the dock. She can feel it under her, the planks shaking with each footstep.

It isn't until the person draws closer that she realizes who it is, the creak of leather all too familiar.

He comes to a stop behind her, close enough that she can feel him, feel the air warping to accommodate him.

"What do you want?" It comes out a little snappy, but Emma had been enjoying her peace. Now that he's here, she's certain she won't be getting anymore.

"Nothing at all, love. I just saw you out here and was wondering why." His voice is soft as he crouches next to her. He doesn't move to sit next to her, though, which she appreciates. She knows he's waiting for her to tell him to leave or ask him to stay. As he always is.

Sighing, she rubs at her forehead. He's here now, and regardless, she won't be having her quiet anymore. He might as well stay.

She shrugs lightly and motions next to her, an invitation he eagerly takes. "I like the water."

"You'd make a fantastic sailor. Aside from the whole jumping into mermaid infested waters part." When she steals a glance at him, he's grinning, but not looking at her, his gaze turned out across the harbor.

"You were all crazy. I did what I had to." She shrugs again. It wasn't a big deal, really. And it already felt so long ago. "I've always liked being near the water. When I was little, there was a foster family that lived near the beach. They didn't care what happened to us or where we went, so long as we were there when the social worker came. Spent a lot of time at the beach. It was peaceful."

Another quick glance at him is a mistake, because he's turned back to her, fixed on her. Just like he always is.

The time is coming when she'll have to deal with that, with the constant presence and the until I met you. He won't pressure her, of course, he never has, never would.

She'll still have to deal with it, though. She won't always be able to pretend she doesn't see the way he holds himself back, how he tries to touch her only when he knows she'll allow it.

"After our father left," he says, casually, as though it isn't his past, and god, Emma knows how that feels, "there wasn't much for me besides Liam and the navy. The sea's been in me longer than I care to remember."

Instead of dwelling on the revelation(family, pain, loss, Emma knows too well), she tackles the one safe part.

"That's right, I always forget, old man, you've been around for a while." A grin cracks across his face at her smirk, and he waves his hook between them in a gesture that might have been threatening if he wasn't completely harmless.

"That'll be Captain Old Man to you, darling."

It feels good to laugh, even if it's more of a giggle, a completely embarrassing sound escaping her that makes no sense given the circumstances. But god, it feels good.

She doesn't really remember the last time she laughed, truly laughed, not something desperate and tinged with grateful disbelief. Before Neverland, surely.

"There's just something about it," he murmurs after a long moment of silence, breaking her out of her thoughts. Not that she minds; it was starting to get depressing trying to pinpoint the moment. His eyes are cast out to the water, blue meeting blue, and the look on his face. Well. It's not unfamiliar to Emma. She sees it enough when he's looking at her.

Following his gaze, she nods even though she knows he won't see it. "It's beautiful. Even when it's ugly and dirty and muddy."

"Aye, that it is," he replies softly.

She doesn't have to look at him to know he isn't watching the water anymore.