Chapter 24:

Watershed Moments

Tawny's apartment, a few days later…

"So, lass, why is it that you never once tried to show me this world's moving picture versions of Neverland?" he inquired, as he dried off the plate that she had just washed.

Tawny had made them a meal of pasta and salad, inviting him over to watch a picture story of 'Fencing, fighting… revenge, giants… true love, miracles...' (according to Henry), but they had yet to do so.

Leaning her hip against the counter, she paused in her washing and replied, "Because I know how I would feel watching any of the Camelot films out there…Aside from Monty Python, of course."

He didn't know what it was, either her depth of understanding of him or her adorable grin that bizarrely had to do with a snake, but in that moment he had the overwhelming urge to kiss her. An urge that was more frequent and harder to resist every moment he spent with her.

It was, of course, in that moment that his phone – fortunately or unfortunately – began buzzing.

Without taking his eyes from her enticingly upturned lips, he reached back to the counter behind him and grabbed the offending device but didn't immediately answer it, much to Tawny's amusement.

"Are you gonna get that?" she inquired, her eyes twinkling with barely controlled mirth.

Killian could feel his face heat up at getting caught staring at her like a moon-brain cabin boy, so without replying but still holding her gaze, he accepted the call and greeted who was ever at the other end with a curt, "Hello."

"Captain?" Starkey hesitantly returned his greeting, clearly uncertain as to what mood he was in.

"Aye."

His former first mate may have been slow on the uptake and more gullible than any pirate worth his salt should be, but he knew how to follow his captain's lead, so he wisely kept it short and simple, only saying, "I got it, and if you want it now, I can be at the lass's place in two minutes."

"How did you – ?"

"Oh, come on," Starkey interrupted, heartily chuckling. "You are getting predictable in your old age, mi capitan."

Forgiving the man for his impertinence, as he was doing him a favor, Killian pointed out dryly, "Our old age, mate. See you in two."

Hanging up, he said to Tawny, "Beg pardon, milady. But business calls."

"Business? What - ?"

He cut her inquisition off with a light kiss to her cheek, promising as he headed for the door, "I'll be back in a few."

As soon as the door was shut behind him, he let out a deep sigh, releasing all of his pent up emotions. The more time he spent with Tawny, the more he wished that he could express everything he feels for her – in words or, better yet, in deeds. But he can't. Not if he wishes to follow his strategy for courting his bonnie lass.

He could kiss her now, and she would return his affections. But would she know that for him it was more than affection and mere physical attraction?

He could tell her with words, shower her with declarations. But would she know deep down in her heart that he meant it? That he was not saying them just to get her onto her back? That she was not just a passing fancy, his object of devotion for the month? That she was his home?

He didn't know. So before he did either of those (because eventually he would do both and if he was lucky she would let him do both and often), he would show her through his actions that he was making her his home, that he would be sticking by her as steadfast as the most stubborn barnacle on his ship. And when she was ready to accept this truth, he would do all the rest. But that moment had not come yet.

And most definitely not with Starkey lurking in the alley beneath her bedroom window.

"This isn't a clandestine meeting, mate. No need to skulk in the shadows," he called out to the man who was half-hidden beneath the metal staircase that ran up the outside of Tawny's flat. The light from the end of his cigarette was what gave him away.

Starkey let out a scoffing huff, before replying, "While I think Gold already knows I did this for you, I'd rather not risk it. He still holds the note on my loan, Captain."

Killian had asked Starkey to pawn a few more valuables for him, as his ship's repairs from the winter storm had eaten into his cash. As much as he hated letting the Crocodile profit off of him, he refused to leave town to utilize another establishment. He wasn't going to do that until the lass was completely back on her feet.

"Oh, I'm sure he did know, and he charged a higher exchange rate, didn't he?" he inquired wryly.

Starkey nodded, "I'm sorry. It's not as good of a haul as the one you would have gotten if you had gone to your usual place."

He shrugged, accepting the wad of cash he was being handed and said, "I didn't expect to."

His first mate said nothing at first to this, just scrutinized him as he took a drag on his cigarette, and then between puffs, he enigmatically commented, "Huh."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the dramatic mysteriousness, he prompted, "What's on your mind, mate?"

"Well… I can't decide if you've changed or this has always been your pattern," he answered, also enigmatically. He was probably punishing Killian for all the riddles he had tormented him with over the years.

Accepting that he deserved it, he continued to play along and asked with as much patience as he could muster, "And what pattern, pray tell, would that be?"

Catching his slightly irked tone, Starkey rubbed the back of his head nervously, but took the plunge, hastily tripping over his words as he explained, "You being lead about by a siren's call. I mean, you weren't this way with Milah, not at first, and then you followed Swan back into Neverland, which we swore we would never set foot there again, and now this McKinley woman…the captain I know wouldn't have appeared so whipped by a woman so publicly…"

He stopped in his explanation, wincing at his blunder of unintentionally insulting Captain Hook, and then cringed as if waiting for a blow to be struck for his impertinence.

It was a comical enough reaction that it soothed Killian's impatience and pride, causing him to smirk as he reassured, "Relax, Starkey. You haven't overstepped your bounds, and – " He paused, rubbing his scruff, before sheepishly admitting, "It is a fair point."

Starkey entertainingly looked at him in disbelief. Killian hoped it was because of the unlikelihood of the man having a perceptive observation than his own penchant for punitive violence.

"But you have failed to note one thing," he added leadingly.

"What's that, captain?"

"I am and have been a better person for it."

~0~

Tawny waited a whole ninety seconds before limping her way to her bedroom window. She hoped she was fast enough in her condition to catch where Killian was going. His quick brush off of her sent her alarm bells a-ringing.

It wasn't that she didn't trust him. Far from it. But he had been acting odd lately, as in different, hesitant almost, as if he was second-guessing his reactions to her. Since he was a confident, self-assured man (to say the least), this was most definitely unusual behavior worth investigating.

She had just cracked her window open, when she heard both Starkey's and Killian's voices almost directly below her window.

"While I think Gold already knows I did this for you, I'd rather not risk it. He still holds the note on my loan, Captain."

"Oh, I'm sure he did know, and he charged a higher exchange rate, didn't he?"

It took her a moment to process this conversation, but she was eventually able to follow along. The more she did so, the more she became overwhelmed.

He stayed for her. He willingly lost money for her. He humbled himself, all be it via proxy, before the man he hated most for her. He openly admitted to being 'led' by her. How much of what he did, how much of what he had done, was/had been for her?

He didn't deny the comparison of her to a siren or the inclusion of herself among the ranks of Milah and Swan.

He thought she was one of the people who had changed him. And he seemed to admire her for it.

Would he admire her, would he follow her, when she asked him what she had wanted to, had been struggling to ask him, for the past two days?

She didn't know. But for the first time, she had the courage to do so.

~0~

When Killian finally returned to the apartment, she was sitting on the floor on a blanket, picnic-style with the chocolate cake he had brought over from Granny's, but the TV was off.

When he entered the apartment (he had a key now, at his insistence), he smiled at the former and frowned at the latter. "Are we not watching the picture show, lass?"

"Mhmm, not yet," she replied, as she cut a piece for herself and for him.

He accepted the proffered piece and sat down across from her, back to the entertainment center, and watched her. Always watching her. Taking a deep breath, she met his questing blue gaze head on, asking, "Have you heard about Regina and Swan discovering a way back to the Forest, ya know, aside from stealing a mermaid's voice?"

"Aye," he agreed, adding, "But from what I hear the Lady Belle had something to do with it as well."

Ignoring the fact that he had better information than her and that he had been privy to this momentous news and had yet to share it, she continued, "Yeah, well, Ruby left that tidbit out, but anyways, I was wondering if you had given any thought to what you want to do about that, returning, I mean?"

He shrugged, replying noncommittally, "Yes and no. You, lass?"

If she hadn't overheard his conversation with Starkey just moments before, she would have challenged him on his sidestepping of her question, but now she knew better – he was waiting to follow her lead.

She picked up her cake again and took a bite before obliquely answering, "From what Ruby's told me and what I overheard Sean telling Ashley, the problem is that the Forest is overrun with ogres and trolls and the like, or so Neal and – "

"The bastard knight," Killian interjected.

Tawny couldn't help but grin at his rancor on her behalf towards Lancelot even as she continued, " – have reported. So apparently, they want to send advanced teams to clear out the area to make it safe for the townspeople." Meeting his gaze again, she declared assertively, "I want to be on one of those teams," and more hesitantly, she asked, "Would you want to come with me?"

She avidly watched his changing expressions, trying to gauge his reaction. His eyes both widened and darkened, in shock possibly. His shoulders had tensed at her declaration but had relaxed at her question. Finally, he nudged her barefoot with his booted one, and a smirk spread across face, as he replied, "Of course. I can't have you going off on an heroic escapade without me, my love."

'My love'. Two simple words and yet… She was suddenly lightheaded and dizzy and very grateful her ass was already parked on the floor.

He had called her 'love' before, but somehow that little possessive pronoun 'my' made the world of difference. And if that hadn't blown her away, the emotions that were swirling in the depths of his gaze – desire, adoration, devotion – most certainly did. It was too much, too soon, too unbelievable…

She didn't know if he was ready to voice the emotions she was seeing in his eyes, and she was sure she wasn't entirely ready to voice hers either, judging by her panic, but she was going to try anyways. He was going to go with her. He had just pledged to follow her into a monster-ridden realm. It would be bad form on her part to do anything less.

"Killian, you know I wouldn't have anyone else at my side in this? I wouldn't want to go if you weren't there." As she stared back at him, she attempted to convey all that she was feeling – need, longing, vulnerability, to name a few.

With equal solemnity, her partner stated, "That is good to know, Tanwen-love. And while we are having this little heart-to-heart, I must confess that there is no one that I would enjoy teaming up with on such a quest as I would you."

Her throat clogged up at this, and it took her several tries to clear it before she managed a soft, garbled, "The – the feeling's – is mutual."

"Good," he replied before that smirk of his returned and he added, "I'm glad you feel that way about it now, because I highly doubt you will after the hell I will put you through to get you into fighting form, kitten."

Knowing the kind of hell he had put her through when she hadn't been as weak as a kitten, her answering groan was of epic proportions, practically foghorn-like.

Which of course prompted him to chuckle, deeply and evilly. The Bastard.

Her bastard, but a bastard all the same.

~0~

Tawny's recovery was a long, arduous three month process. After six weeks, she had returned to work, light duty, so she had to work with a partner. Mrs. Boyd hadn't been particularly happy about that, but after a 'chat' with Mademoiselle Mayor, she didn't voice her displeasure or try to weasel out of it. Although Tawny didn't really need to continue working as she and Killian were planning on being on one of the advance teams, she needed to keep herself occupied before then or she would go stir crazy.

Killian did indeed run her through the ringer to prepare her. At eight weeks, they began their morning runs, which gradually became longer, and evening workouts, which gradually became more intense. By the twelfth week, they included weightlifting, muscle-toning exercises, and sparring with occasional rock-climbing races and sailing lessons to change it up.

She hated him, and she loved him.

He was the same strict and unrelenting taskmaster that he had been back in the Forest, and he was also the same charming storytelling bastard who went out of his way to bring a smile to her face while yet pouring on bone-wearying misery. But this time, he seemed to be doing so more for the simple pleasure of her smile than because that is what one did to pass the time.

All that hard work paid off though. Because today…

"Whale cleared me. I'm fully recovered," she informed Killian, blurting it out as she was halfway through her set of sit-ups.

She didn't know why she decided to let him know then. Usually, at this point in their routine, they kept the conversation light and witty, to distract her mind from her body's physical protests. He was spotting for her, holding her feet down, as per usual; however, not per usual, he was rather quiet, his blue eyes staring into hers (when not roving over her body). Perhaps, she was simply responding to his mood.

"Did he?" he inquired, a faint smile brightening his features. His hand reached up to give her a knee a congratulatory pat, which somehow turned into a caress, his fingers tracing a light pattern along her sensitive skin.

He had been doing that a lot lately, seducing her.

And yes, she meant, seducing.

There were increased instances of casual touches, charged with chemistry, and caresses accompanied with glances that were heavy with significance. He had also developed a hair fetish. He was constantly brushing her hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear, playfully tugging on it or twirling it around his finger, fiddling with it 'absentmindedly' while sitting next to her and talking with someone else.

His outrageous flirting had taken on a new connotation as well. He had always been playfully suggestive with her, and she had given as good as she had gotten; but this time there was significance behind his roguish remarks – not always but more often than not.

And then there were the kisses – to her forehead, her temples, or her hand in overly dramatic greetings or 'fond farewells.'

It had taken her longer than it should have to figure it out (chalk her obtuseness up to her insecurities). At first, she had thought he was toying with her. It had to be that because if he really cared for her in that way he would just come out and say it. But eventually, her rational mind took over, and she realized that a man who invested as much time into her as he had, who was going to go ogre-hunting with her just because she had asked, was not the kind of man who would be so cruel. And hadn't she, who felt a certain way about him, also kept silent on that very subject?

She wasn't exactly sure what his reasons were for the slow pace, but she trusted that he had good ones. And even though she was spending more on batteries than she ever had before, she was enjoying this dance of theirs. She had never been chased before. At least not in such a pleasant and welcome manner. Perhaps, that was her excuse. It sounded a lot better than "I'm scared of rejection" anyways.

"Yes…I am now able to do heavy-lifting and any other sort of strenuous activity without doctor censure," she declared with satisfaction.

Of course, Mister Walking-Innuendo couldn't resist and up quirked his eyebrow, as he asked archly, "Any sort, you say?"

Somehow she managed not to blush. "Any," she replied, her voice dripping with suggestion. His hand, which had trailed down her leg, involuntarily tightened its grip on her ankle.

More matter-of-factly, she stated, "I can officially take on trolls, ogres, and hags, oh my."

Instead of laughing at her quip, Killian's eyes darkened and he grimaced.

She didn't know what that meant, and afraid it was because he didn't want to go, she tried to give him an out. Propping herself on her elbows, she offered, "Killian, if you don't want to do this, you don't have to. I don't want to drag you on a crusade that you don't want to do."

"Oh, lass, it's not that," he sighed, sitting back on his heels, thankfully not denying that something was bothering him. "This appeals to my inner honorable man's need for a worthy cause."

"Then what?"

Rubbing his face, which was now haggard-looking with pain and exhaustion, with his hand, he explained softly, "The thought of you taking on those fiendish monstrosities…well, it terrifies me. You are my true-mate, and to lose you is unbearable to think upon."

Tawny gazed into his agony-filled eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his emotion, by his declaration. It wasn't 'true love', but she would take it. She would take him.

Something of her emotions and desires must have shown on her face because his gaze flickered to her mouth before meeting hers again. His eyes had darkened for an entirely different reason and his breath had quickened.

In that moment, she decided that enough was enough, that the time had come to quit dancing around each other and to start 'dancing' with each other. She swore she could hear Ruby and Giselle cheering in the back of her mind.

Settling back down, she declared firmly, "Tonight's going to be a short night. Training, that is. We're celebrating tonight."

Being the perceptive man that he was, Killian picked up on the true meaning of 'celebrating'. Licking his lips, which were now smirking, he huskily whispered, "As you wish."

Her body flushed and heat pooled in her loins.

Damn that movie. She wished she had never shown it to him. Now she didn't know exactly what he meant when he said that.

She finished her set of sit-ups, did a few planks, and a set of push-ups, before calling it quits. If he had asked, she would have been unable to deny that she was 'hot and bothered.' Not that he didn't already know.

After changing and freshening up in the locker room, she met him at the front desk. He was standing there, leaning against the counter in his fitted jeans and billowing sleeved shirt, (partially unbuttoned, of course). She wanted to grab him by his necklace and haul him down for a kiss right there, but she resisted. Instead, she took his hand and wordlessly led him from the gym.

It took her less than half a second to decide to head to his ship next. It was closer than the inn or her apartment, and since it was now spring, it was warm enough to be an option. Killian didn't protest. He just sensually caressed her wrist with his thumb and radiated heat and desire. How he managed to do that she didn't know, the provocative son of a bitch.

Very little was said between them all the way to the Roger, and especially, once they were in his cabin.

With her back pressed to the door, he leaned down and asked her quietly, "Are you sure? Is this what you want?"

Pouring everything that she had been feeling for him for what seemed like forever into her gaze, she nodded and then reached up to nibble on his lower lip.

He groaned, and then turned her nibble into real kiss. One full of intoxicating heat and passion and hungry longing.

He tasted of spice and everything nice, even if he was doing such wicked things with his tongue. Tawny did not know if she was going to go up in flames from the sheer sensuality of it or melt at the aura of reverence that was rolling off of him in waves for her.

To keep herself from drowning, to keep the balance, she attempted to give it back to him ten-fold. And as a result, the kiss, their first kiss, the one that promised a night of debauchery led to clothes being slowly and reverently removed, bodies being amorously worshiped.

He never took his eyes from hers, nor did she from his. Their gazes said everything that they couldn't – I love you. I want you. I have since… I need you. You're mine. Gods, you're beautiful. I can't believe you're here. I want this to last forever. Don't leave me. You feel so good. More. I can't get enough of you. You'll never be alone again. I love you.

Every kiss, caress, touch, lick, bite, gasp conveyed to the other how much they meant to each other.

Never had she felt so cherished, so desired, so adored.

And after... after he drew her to his side and pulled the blanket over the both of them, intertwining their legs, curling their bodies around one another, never had she felt so… at home.

~0~

Killian lay there with his fiery lass in his arms, warm with contentment, a sensation that he had not felt with a woman in a very long time.

She had burned. They had burned. And in the morning, aside from making waffles, he was going to make his Tanwen-love blaze. Again and again and again. This was not a one-time thing.

A/N: Stay tuned for the morning after in A New Chapter