Author's note: Greetings! Just a little post S6 Sheriff/Deputy sexy time! As many of you know, I won't be watching S7, so this is a peek at how I see Emma and Killian's married life. Who knows, it might become a series. You tell me! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

The Sheriff and the Deputy

She turned over the fifteenth (or was it more? She lost count) time, tugging on her pillow to find a cool spot. It was dark, perfectly silent, her eyes were firmly closed, and still Emma Swan could not fall asleep. It was too quiet. Too dark. Too cold. It was the middle of fall and while the air in Storybrooke was cool; she never felt it in her bed. Their bed. She always had her husband—the human furnace—there to chase away the chill.

Basically, she'd gotten far too accustomed to sharing a bed and she missed him.

He was only down at the station. Manning to proverbial fort on a Saturday night. They were due at her parents' house the next day for Sunday dinner; Killian gallantly suggested she get a good night's sleep rather than man their usual Saturday night post at the station. It was a duty they typically took together, Saturday night being their busiest time in the sleepy town of Storybrooke. Ever since the Final Battle, things had been downright boring, not that she was complaining. Boring was good. It allowed her to enjoy some quality time with her new husband, something they'd had precious little of during their eventful courtship.

She was truly content, for the first time in her life.

Only not right now, because the man she loved so dearly was missing from their bed.

She glanced at the clock on her nightstand, huffing in annoyance. It was only one o'clock. Killian wouldn't be home until at least six. Screw it, she thought, throwing the covers off. She padded to the bathroom and tugged on some sweatpants and one of Killian's flannel shirts over her camisole. She'd bought him half a dozen, just to wear around the house. She thought he looked rather sexy in them. Right now, it was warm and it smelled like him, which was enough for her. She dragged her brush through her hair then pulled it up into a loose bun, hoping to hide her bed head. At the last moment, she put on her glasses, not wanting to bother with her contacts in the middle of the night.

Henry was at Regina's, so she didn't have any qualms about leaving in the middle of the night. The fourth stair creaked as it always did as she hurried downstairs, her stocking feet slipping a bit on the wood. She paused by the front door to yank on some old sneakers and her red jacket; her keys jangled in her pocket. The cold air outside made her gasp as she dashed for the Bug, the headlights almost blinding as she started it up. Her eyes adjusted quickly and she pulled out onto the street.

Killian turned the page, trying to force himself to focus. It was actually quite a good book, a history of sea warfare that Belle had recommended for him. There was even a section on piracy in the Land Without Magic. These late Saturday nights were the perfect time for him to read; the long hours at the station were very often uneventful. The overnight shifts were more of precaution, a remnant of the time before. Before the Final Battle. Before he watched his beloved wife sacrifice herself to save everyone she loved. He was secretly grateful that she insisted on doing these late shifts together; he could still see that moment in his mind's eye if they spent too much time apart. Emma seemed to feel the same way; they spent much of their days together, working, relaxing, spending time with Henry. It was a good life, one he never expected to ever truly be his.

It was much easier for him to concentrate when he could look up and see Emma in her office, typing away at her electronic contraption.

But tomorrow was a day with her family (his family) and he wanted her to get a proper amount of rest. He was accustomed to late nights; during his pirating days, he'd put in forty eight hour watches, never asking his crew to do anything he wouldn't. While his life was far less eventful now, he remembered what those watches were like.

Shuffling feet stirred him from his reverie; he dropped the book loudly, his body tensing for an attack. "Who's there?"

A shadow passed Emma's office and stepped into the light. "Hey, it's just me."

Killian relaxed, even as a frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I thought we agreed you'd go home."

"I did." She slid the red jacket off, hanging it on the back of a nearby chair. "Don't say you're not happy to see me."

"I'm always happy to see you, love." She closed the gap between them, brushing her lips over his. "But I meant for you to rest."

"I tried. Turns out I can't sleep without my husband there to warm my feet."

A smile broke out on his face; he couldn't help it, not when she used that word. He loved being her husband. "Your feet do get quite chilly," he conceded. He looked her up and down; she looked adorable in her sleepwear and glasses. He tugged on his shirt. "You missed me."

She shrugged. "Maybe." She stepped into his arms, sighing as he held her. She melted into him, a sense of rightness washing over her. She wove her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, her lips caressing his skin. Killian slid his arms under the flannel, sliding over the silk.

"I missed you too."

She smiled into his neck, moving with him as he maneuvered them into the chair. She straddled his thighs, content to enjoy his solid warmth. His shirt was open at the neck, waistcoat discarded; she could see down the back of his loose collar, all that tanned skin. It was impossible to be this close to him and not want him; their connection was like a tinderbox, the smallest spark setting them aflame. Silence reigned as she sat up, her fingers toying with the hairs on his chest. She loved the way they felt, the teasing scratch on her skin. She'd never thought of herself as someone who would be into chest hair, but Killian's tormented her dreams almost from the moment she met him.

Killian let her explore, her touch light and curious, but still arousing. She knew his body so well by now, but she still found ways to surprise him. She kissed the hollow of his throat, the sharp line of his jaw, the lobe of his ear. He struggled to suppress a groan, his awareness narrowing to the beautiful woman in his lap. "Swan?"

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Hell no." He tilted his head. "Here?"

"Why not here? It's late; there's no one around…"

He stopped her before she could say more, fusing his mouth to hers. She moaned into his kiss, her hips instinctively rolling over his. She felt him there, the bulge growing in his already tight jeans. His hand and hook dropped to her ass, encouraging her to grind against him. "Minx."

She smiled, kissing him slowly as she continued to unbutton his shirt. He pushed the flannel off her shoulders until it pooled at her elbows. Emma arched as he mouthed at her breast, right through the silk, her nipples quickly hardening into sharp points. She wove her fingers into his hair, pulling lightly as he moved from one to the other, wetness pooling between her legs. "God, that feels good."

He grinned wolfishly, his teeth biting down on the firm bud. He was rewarded with a keening cry, her strong hands holding him to her as she writhed in his lap. Killian used his hook to yank the flimsy strap down her arm, exposing her to him fully. Her nipples were so sensitive; he loved worshiping her there. Emma arched, her body on fire, sensitive to the rough flannel. She let him go long enough to get it off, carelessly tossing it to the floor. She peeled the other side of her camisole off, allowing it to pool at her waist. She cupped Killian's cheeks, bringing his lips to his in a needy kiss.

"Tell me what you need, Swan," he growled against her lips.

"You," she panted. "Just you." She shivered as his hook slid up and down her back, the cool metal warming as he rubbed her too hot skin.

"Aye, aye, Sheriff," he teased, capturing her left nipple between his lips. He sucked hard, moving his hook to rub the other side. Emma mewled in pleasure, loving when he touched her with his hook. She found it unbelievably hot, his hook so sexy to her. Pressure built low in her belly, her panties soaked as her body prepared for orgasm.

"Fuck, fuck," she hissed, grabbing his brace and moving it faster over her aching nipple. "Oh my god."

He gripped her hip to lift her away from his crotch. It wasn't that he didn't want to feel her; he simply wanted to make her come from this alone. She was so close, he could feel it. "Come," he ordered, his voice steely and harsh. "Come."

Emma keened as he sucked hard, unable to deny him. Pleasure washed through her, hot and fluid, her body trembling in his arms. She whimpered softly, still riding the wave, Killian suckling her hungrily. She sagged into him, cradling his head, his name a prayer on her lips.

"Beautiful," he mumbled into her chest. "So beautiful."

Emma panted for air, still quivering from her climax, yet nowhere near satisfied. She kissed the crown of his head, fingers tugging his head back so she could kiss his mouth. It was sloppy, passionate, needy. "Don't stop," she pleaded, hips seeking his once more. "Wanna feel you inside me."

He groaned, wanting nothing more than to bring her pleasure. He slid his arms around her waist and heaved her up, depositing her on the desk. Emma squealed in delight, pulling him in for a kiss as they tried to get her sweats and camisole off. She frantically kicked at her sneakers, hearing them hit the floor with twin thuds. The wood of the desk was cool under her skin, but she whimpered with need as the offending clothing hit the floor. She kissed her lover passionately, stroking his tongue with hers, spreading her legs invitingly. Killian grinned at her, pausing long enough to shrug his shirt from his body. Emma pulled him close, her lips moving over his chest, blunt nails stroking his nipples. He growled, shivering as her hands dropped to his belt. "Swan…"

"Are you going to deny your Sheriff?" she purred, working the leather quickly. In moments, she had his fly open, her hand curling around his straining cock. He hissed, rocking into her touch, his lips hurriedly finding her mouth. He nipped at her, even as he resisted her attempts to bring him to her sex.

"Want you," he whispered, helping her get the pants over his hips. "So bloody much."

"So take me," she countered, her eyes flitting between his lust filled blue ones and his cock.

He nodded, sinking inside her heat. They both moaned, Emma arching as he filled her. She leaned back on the desk, arms braced behind her, reveling in the feeling of her pirate moving inside her. How many times as she imagined them fucking on this desk? On her desk? In the holding cell? The station featured in so many of her fantasies; she was shocked it took them so long to indulge.

"Look at me," Killian snarled, hips slamming into hers harder.

A low cry tore at her throat, but she obeyed. She locked her gaze with his, turned on by the pure lust she saw there. She'd never wanted anyone the way she wanted him, always wanted him. It was hot, intense, pure. She needed the things he made her feel. "Killian…fuck…don't stop."

He bent over her, kissing her deeply, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her hips. "Is this what you needed, Swan?" he breathed harshly, hips snapping into hers. He hitched her legs under his arms, bending over her for leverage, forcing himself deeper and deeper inside her. Emma screamed, chest heaving, back arching. Still, he didn't let up, watching his length disappear inside her tight hole. "Tell me. Tell me you dreamed of this. The Deputy fucking the Sheriff on this desk, where anyone could catch us."

Emma whimpered, her head thrashing. He felt so good inside her, she never wanted it to end. "Yes!" she cried, dropping to her elbows. "Yes! Yes!"

"That's my girl." He bent to lick her bouncing breasts, the touch setting her off. She climaxed hard, hips bucking into his, her scream of pleasure echoing in the room. He grunted as she rippled along his length, not ready to let her go. Emma dropped to the desk, her body shaking, mewling as he left her. But he was back before she could really miss him, Killian turning her so she lay on her side. He threw her leg over his shoulder, sinking inside her once more. She reached for the other side of the desk, hanging on for dear life as he rode her. She still buzzed from her high, from the way he filled her; when he hit her most sensitive place she moaned softly.

"Oh, oh god," she breathed, her fingers tightening on the wood. "There, Killian. Right there. So good."

He groaned, loving the way she responded to him. He pressed his thumb to her swollen wet clit, determined to make her come again. Her low cry told him she was willing, her thighs beginning to tremble. "Come for me, Swan," he pleaded, struggling to hold on. "Come on my cock."

She bit down hard on her lip, vainly trying to muffle her shout. She scrunched her eyes shut, stars bursting behind closed lids as a third orgasm gripped her. Her hand smacked against the wood, the pain anchoring her as she floated from her high. She felt his cock throb and pulse inside her, his harsh moan music to her ears as he emptied himself inside her quivering heat. She felt him fall on top of her, panting hard, but she welcomed his weight. She held him until he softened, stroking his back until their hearts returned to a more normal rhythm.

"Love you," she whispered, lips touching his temple.

"Love you more," he replied, lips finding her cheek. "Alright, wife?"

She smiled weakly. "I'm fantastic."

Killian heaved himself up, frowning as she winced. He went to move, to find something to clean her with, but came up short when he realized his pants were still around his ankles. Growling in frustration, he stooped to free himself, padding nude over to Emma's office, snatching up some tissues. She accepted them gratefully, deftly cleaning between her legs. Killian pressed a tender kiss to her thigh, then tossed the tissue away. She curled up on the desktop, a pleased sated smile om her face. "Hey."

He smiled down at her. "Hi."

She scooted over, patting the desk. "Join me?"

"Is that comfortable?"

"It's not bad. You got a better idea?"

"Perhaps." There was an old leather couch in the interrogation room. It wasn't overly large but it would do. He held out his hand. "Indulge me?"

"Sure." She swung her legs over the desk, hopping off nimbly. They shared a sweet smile as he led her toward the back. "What about our clothes?"

"Did you lock the door when you came in?"

She flushed. "Yeah."

"Then we'll be fine until morning." It grew darker the deeper they went; Killian flipped on the small desk lamp when they reached their destination. He tracked down some blankets and a pillow, clearly meant for an emergency. If Emma wanted to stay with him, he wasn't going to argue with her. She watched as he arranged his treasures into a makeshift bed, tiredness tugging around the edges of her awareness. Killian stretched out on the leather, fingers quickly working the straps of his brace. It fell to the ground with a thunk, then he patted his chest.

Emma smiled, laying her glasses on the table before moving to crawl over him. He was comfortable, warm; she wrapped herself around him, skin to skin. Somehow, he maneuvered the blanket over them, tugging her hair out of its bun. His lips skimmed her brow and she sighed happily.

"Better?"

She nodded against his chest. "Much, thank you."

"This was quite a treat, you showing up here."

"I didn't come specifically for sex, you know."

"But you have fantasized about us here?"

She blushed. "Yeah. Have you?"

"Swan, there are few places I haven't imagined having you."

"Is that so?"

"You're a very desirable woman." He gave her arse a little pat. "Perhaps next time we could use your handcuffs?"

"On you or me?"

"Whichever tickles our fancy, love."

She found his lips, humming happily. "I think the Sheriff and her Deputy can get into all kinds of trouble together, Captain Jones."

"I look forward to it, Mrs. Jones."