The roles were reversed this time: Emma anxiously looking at the arrival boards and Killian somewhere on the other side of customs. It was weird. He had to come over earlier than everyone else needed to move in – practice and other boxing team shenanigans, she was sure – but he arrived even earlier just to spend more time at home with her, cutting his summer holiday even shorter. He even offered to help her move in later.

("Your father's strong, I'll give you that, but, Swan, who's going to take the boxes off him when his back eventually fails?"

"Killian!"

"What? C'mon, love, you must admit I'm easier on the eyes than him."

"Killiannnnnn.")

Her feet still hurt and she could honestly go back to bed for hours, but she was nervous. Hoping she was more observant than he was in Heathrow, Emma scanned the crowd again, probably the fourth time in as many minutes. This time around, though, she spotted his dark hair appeared from the double doors hiding customs, messy from sleeping on the plane.

He's so adorable.

Biting her lips to keep from screaming and running for him, Emma waited for him to see her. His hand ruffled through his hair and adjusted the strap of his carry-on bag. Even from far away, his eyes were blue pinpoints shining through fatigue.

Emma hesitatingly held up her hand, frozen in a wave. Killian spotted her and in a weird scene that would most likely be slowed down in the movie of her life, he sprinted to her. His bag banged against the backs of his leg as he dodged the groups of loved ones greeting their own. He slowed down enough not to knock her down, but he did squeeze her into his body.

"Oh god, Emma love, I missed you," he mumbled in her hair. Emma buried her face further in his neck, breathed deeply in the scent of him…of Killian. And, in a move that threw her for a loop, one of his hands fell to rest on her stomach. "And you too, Pudge. I missed you too."

"Oh god," she sniffed. Emma pulled back, wiping her eyes. "You haven't been here for ten minutes and you're already making me cry."

Killian chuckled. "No, don't shed tears for me, darling." He swiped his thumb beneath her eyes, caught at the tears before they fell. "I bristle at the thought of a woman losing her heart." And then he smirked. "Unless it's over me."

She snorted then. "You asshole," she muttered, a smile growing on her face. A few tears rolled down her cheeks still. "God, I'm a mess, sorry. How are you? How was your flight? Where's your stuff?"

"Nosy Swan." His finger tapped her the tip of her nose. "Come now. We've got the walk to baggage carousel and an entire ride back to campus for me to regale you with stories."

Her parents had reprimanded her for even thinking about picking Killian up and taking him back to campus. A recent trip to Mulan's office confirmed what she already knew: the baby was coming, sooner rather than later. The more relaxed and comfortable she was, the safer and better off she would be in the long run. Mary Margaret kept telling, no, insisting her daughter take it easy and hang out at home until she needed to move into her room with Ruby and Belle, maybe even stay home until the baby came.

But very few times had Emma actually listened to her parents these days, especially when it came to Killian.

They were walking out of the airport, Emma rolling one of his suitcases behind her, when he said, "Liam's sent something for you."

"Oh? What is it?"

"Come now, Swan. Wait until we get back to campus." Emma pouted, throwing all of her willpower and what was left of her dignity into the expression. He sighed. "It's in my bag. I can't get it quite yet."

"Ugh, fine," she relented, punctuated by the slam of the driver's door.

They talked animatedly on the short drive back to campus. Emma helped move his things back into his room (the same room, the one that had become a second home-away-from-home in the early days of their friendship). Two beds still sat there, one bunked over the other. Killian climbed up the ladder in search of any faults in the mattress before he went about dressing it fir sleep.

"Robbie's back," Emma casually commented, kicking at a pile of clothes on the ground. "Or so it seems."

Killian grunted from atop his mattress. "I don't think he left for the summer. I believe he's been working with the orientation office."

"Then why didn't you stay?"

He hopped down from the bed. "I did stay. Longer than customary. To be with you."

Tilting her head to the side, she sarcastically uttered, "How sweet."

"I know." Like his ego isn't big enough already. But he rested his hand over his heart all the same. "I'm quite the heartthrob, or so I've been told."

Emma hummed neither in agreement nor disagreement. She set her hands out in front of her. "Where's my present?" she asks Killian.

Shaking his head, he laughed. "So needy." His bag was on the floor in front of the closet, where he knelt down and began rummaging through it. "It's not much, hardly anything really, but he recalled our parents singing this to us when we were children." He revealed a tape, a bonafide tape meant to be played in a tape recorder, in his hand. Killian got a far-off look in his eyes, looking down at the tape as he handed it off to her. "I haven't heard it in years."

"Obviously, or else you would've transferred it onto a CD."

Killian's gaze was scornful and sad. "Liam played it a lot right after the accident to help me to sleep."

And now I feel like an asshole.

"Killian," Emma said softly. "I'm sorry. That was rude."

He shrugged it off. "You didn't know." Still, he placed the tape in her hand and folded her fingers over it, protecting his cherished memory. "Just take it. Maybe Pudge will like it as much as I did."

"He'll love it, I'm sure," she assured him, carefully tucking it into her bag.

"She will." Emma rolled her eyes at his insistence. Killian smirked and pointed an accusatory finger at her. "Mark my words, Swan darling. Mark my words."

She scrunched up her nose in distaste, both at his insistence and the silence that followed. There was nothing left for her to do but head home. Yet, she hesitated.

He noticed.

"Stay a bit," Killian asked of her. He gestured to the couch, still there and still grungy. "It won't be as comfortable, but it'll be nostalgic."

"Who said I wanted to be nostalgic?"

"No one." Scratching away at the nape of his neck, Killian settled himself against the arm of the couch. "I didn't want to watch the new episodes of Young Justice alone."

"Oh," Emma said. "I can do that. But I need to get on the road before dark."

He grinned as he waved her to the couch. "I suppose that can be arranged." He stood and offered her a hand to ease herself onto the cushion. But, for a brief second, when he was right behind her, Killian whispered, "Though it would be nicer if you stayed," in her ear.

"I know, Jones, I know. But what Mama Nolan wants, Mama Nolan gets," Emma stated simply.

"She only wants what's best for you," he said as he relaxed behind her on the couch. "And for once, I agree with her." She craned her neck and stared at him. He looked taken aback when his eyes met hers. "What? No offense, darling, but you're huge. I was going to suggest you call me every quarter hour on the drive back just so I know you haven't gone into labor."

Emma chortled, causing her to ease deeper into his chest. "Don't worry. When the time comes, you'll be the second person I call." When he stayed silent and a glance back at his face showed he looked wounded, she shrugged. "Hey, she might be a maniac, but I'm calling my mom first. She knows her stuff."

Killian's chuckles vibrated through her body as his toe pressed a button on his laptop. The cartoon sprung to life, vibrant colors and screeches filling the room.

0000

It was a hectic two weeks of packing, unpacking, repacking, and countless near-breakdowns, but she was (finally) in her new home with everyone who mattered most in her life, save for her parents, who needed to get back on the road. Ruby had been helpfully absent all day; Belle was taking a well-deserved break and messing about in the kitchen, having a nice cup of tea. Graham, who'd driven down with some of Emma's stuff, made polite conversation with her while Emma and Killian moved boxes into the empty room.

They could be something good for each other, she thought. Quiet, reserved Belle could tame the wanderlust in him.

It was a selfish thought disguised as an attempt to better her friends' lives though, but Cool Uncle Graham needed to be around to claim his title.

Emma breathed deeply and sighed. They were alone in her room, her and Killian, her hands on her lower back to relieve some of the pressure that had built there over the day. She wasn't used to moving her body or boxes this much. That, plus the excitement of the day, had her wishing everyone else would leave and she could just take a nap.

"Alright there, love?" he asked as he gently shut the door. A glimpse at his expression showed his concern, hoping to avoid a repeat of her trip to a London hospital, but ready ever the same.

"Yeah, fine," she calmed him. "Just sore. And tired. And ready to be done with this entire thing."

He guided her to the mattress that came with the room, sat her down on the edge and knelt between her legs.

"What are you doing?" she asked, anxious and confused.

His hands dragged down her legs, squeezing her calf muscles and her feet. She winced. Pain, good pain, rocketed up her leg, like she was stretching a muscle after a long time of disuse. "You need to rest and you won't do that unless someone makes you."

"I'm fine, I swear." But her eyes fluttered shut and her lips fell apart, silent appreciation of the actions he took. Yeah, totally fine.

He straightened his spine, but still stayed stooping on the floor. "It's okay to admit weakness, Swan," he said softly. "I thought you would know that by now." His fingers pulsed around her feet and a smile grew on his face. "You are human. An amazing and admirable human, but human nonetheless."

She didn't know what came over her. This wasn't the first time he'd said something like this, and she was sure it wouldn't be the last. And maybe it was just the domesticity of the entire situation: he was helping her move in to her first apartment before heading off to boxing practice for the afternoon, almost like he was going to the office or something. She was pregnant, albeit it not with his child, they weren't even together technically, but this…

This felt right.

So it was only right, only natural, that she leant forward and kissed him. His hand came up and cradled her cheek, both of hers doing the same to his face. It was different than the past times. There was no uncertainty like there was when they watched Young Justice. There was no sense of relief like there was in London. There was only happiness wan warmth and a feeling of perfection.

Third time's the charm.

When they pulled back, he quietly asked, "What'd I do?"

"I was just…I don't know." She stumbled through words in her head, trying to find what she actually meant. "I like you. A lot."

"Emma, darling, we've already established that," Killian chuckled. He curled some wayward hair of hers behind her ear. "What I meant is what did I do that finally, finally made you accept that you love me?"

Raising an eyebrow and leaning away from him, Emma gaped. "I didn't say anything about love."

"Not yet you haven't. You don't need to." His finger lightly struck her on the nose, quickly followed by a peck of his lips. She giggled. "I've said it before: you're an open book to me, Swan."

She imagined her face got sappy at that – her shoulders slumped in the presence of relief and familiarity of his smugness. "You're incorrigible."

"Aye, but you love it." Emma opened her mouth to protest, but Killian was beside her on the bed in a flash, drawing her into his arms, and transformed her words into laughter. "You do love it. You don't have to tell me until you're ready, but you do and that's all I need to know."

He was the one to initiate the kiss this time, rolled her back onto the mattress and peppered her with presses of his lips to hers.

When her lungs could no longer deprive themselves of respite, Emma scooted back on the mattress and rested her head on the pillow. Her chest heaved, trying to return to some semblance of normal breathing and heart rates, but Killian's continued ministrations – kisses to her cheek, her neck, all the way down her chest – kept her breathing hard.

"I know we can't do much for now, so I get it if you don't really want to have…" In between the lapses of her thoughts, Emma struggled to find terminology that didn't make her feel like she was in middle school, trying to make her case to the boy she liked. "A thing. With me. I get it."

The sigh that fanned itself over her breasts had a hint of an attitude to it, and Emma opened her heavy eyes (when had they closed?) to meet his. "Emma, you picked me up from the airport. We've met each other's families. I'm helping you move in and we're snogging in your bed. We've been a 'thing,' as you so eloquently put it, for quite some time."

She laughed breathlessly. "Sorry if my need for a real definition is so demanding."

Killian's forehead lightly fell to her shoulder as he said, "Darling, you've been nothing but demanding and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Emma hummed. "What can I say? I like things the way I like them."

"And I love you more for it."

Shocks ran up and down her spine, but they didn't make her rigid. They warmed her body, from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head. She might have had a minor freak-out when he assumed she loved him (which she does not, does not, does not), but hearing those words in that order from him…they had a much more positive effect on her.

Crawling up to lie next to her, Killian asked, "Y'okay?"

"Yeah." She leaned toward him, coming to place her head on his chest. "Yeah, I'm okay. Are you?"

His answer was a kiss. First on the top of her head, and then on her lips. It was a rocky road they'd driven, but she was beginning to think the hard part was over.