Her Smile

by gingerchangeling

What happens when too many misunderstandings stack up on top of each other? (Basically, it started as the idea that Killian would be hyperaware of how his physical presence would affect Belle, and then just... kept going)

She didn't know why it had taken her so long to notice. The stupid sway and lack of personal space was practically his signature move, for Christ's sake. But it completely escaped her notice until Belle pulled her aside, years after the events at the townline.

"Emma!" Belle called out to her as she stepped into Granny's, Killian at her heel and Henry under her arm. She gave the woman a smile and brought up the hand from around Henry to wave at her, releasing her son to stride over to the counter at the same time.

In moments like this, she was again struck by Killian's influence on Henry, even if neither realized it. Henry's long step wasn't quite as smooth or graceful as her husband's, there was far too much more new teenager to try and manage itself, but the shadow of the confident swagger sat like a gossamer cape across Henry's shoulders. She knew that as her son grew into his shoulders, he would grow into the stride too.

With one last loving glance at her son, she was about to turn to ask Killian, who'd shifted out of the doorway to her left, whether he wanted to stay for breakfast or just grab some coffee and head out, when Belle called out again.

"You have a sec? I have a quick question."

Emma gestured that she'd heard, turning to find Killain's eyes flicking back from where Belle was sitting.

"Shall I acquire us some beverages and a seat then?" he murmured, just loud enough to be heard over the general din of the diner's breakfast rush.

She nodded quickly then leaned up to brush her lips across his, "Thanks, Captain." As she pulled back, she delighted in the light flush across his cheeks as his lips pulled up in her favorite smile.

While she loved the hot smirk that he could unleash upon her when he was feeling particularly scoundrel-ish - "Emma no. That's not a wo-" was all he managed before it faded into a moan- and the broad boyish grin that shone with delight when he got experience a joy he should have know his whole life for the first time, it was this one now- the quiet, gentle curve that settled across his lips- was the one she loved the most. Because it was one she knew all too well in the last few years. It was a smile that came from a soul-deep contentment, a heart so full that one tiny gesture caused it to overflow onto the lips.

About six months ago, they'd finally managed to make their way off of Henry and David's joint movie list- "Are you sure that there are any films left to view after all the ones we've seen love?"-, and on to Mary Margaret's. When they had told her with a laugh that they would finally get to her actually written out list, she'd immediately demanded it back. Surprised, Killian, who'd taken to keeping all the various lists and recommendations in a small notebook in his coat that he'd taken to jokingly calling his Captain's Log, (when David had heard the name, he'd started his own joke. Anytime he picked up anything for them from the store- a frequent occurrence during her pregnancy- he'd started providing a list of snarky comments about their various requests with his delivery, insisting that "all delivered cargo have a manifest for review by the captain") had offered up the notebook without protest. She had hastily scribbled something at the very top of the list before snapping it shut, then, in a move that only she could get away with, pulled open his coat and shoved it into the interior pocket without allowing them to see her mysterious edit.

Then she'd given Emma a wink with a smile, "You'll thank me later."

With that enigmatic lead in, the next time that she and Killian had a movie night, the two of them settled in and pulled out his list for the next movie, interested to see what Mary Margaret had thought so crucial they see.

Henry refused to join them anymore, not because they got randy or anything, but because Killian liked having all the context he could when watching, so a two hour movie could often last six or seven hours as he asked her to pause and peppered her with questions regarding history or technology. Frequently, they ended up "inquiring after the Google's thoughts" and even mindless movies like Indiana Jones turned into fascinating history lessons for both of them. She said she hardly noticed when he didn't know something, but he'd caught her flicking through his notebook more than once, where he regularly jotted down phrases he heard or questions he came across, to look things up and provide answers to him, while pretending she had no idea he didn't know.

- "Swan, you know I can research these things myself," he whispered to her one night after a sweet, slow love making- pregnancy left her tired all the time, and he had taken it upon himself to ensure that she remain perfectly satisfied, despite her energy levels and general hypersensitivity to everything, keeping everything like a slow tide, careful touches and gentle caresses that always managed to coax her into an orgasm, even when she was feeling prickly and emotion. Particularly when she was feeling prickly and emotional.- and in her flush of satisfaction, she'd mumbled a phrase she'd heard her mom use once and thought it was hilarious and said that he was "the cat's pajamas". He'd pulled her close as he mumbled, "I'll need to remember to write that one down in the morning." And where a moment ago, she could not have thought of a single thing that would have gotten her to move from the warmth of his arms, she suddenly found herself compelled to roll onto her stomach slightly to fling her arm out and blindly pat around until her hand landed on her phone. Grabbing it, she rolled back into his waiting warmth and clicked it on, squinting slightly in the dim light.

"I know you can," she mumbled back, still squinting as she typed the phrase. Without thinking, she continued, "I like knowing things for you. You always know the answer to my questions, never leave me not knowing. I like being able to do that too. Makes me feel like I'm helping."

He never brought it up again, but she noticed that the 'Captain's Log' was suddenly frequently left out where she could get at it, rather than stashed in his coat pocket like it was before. -

When they finally opened the notebook to look at Snow's new first movie, Emma was surprised to see The Sound of Music added to the top of Mary Margaret's list. She must have made a sound, because Killian looked at her, "Something wrong Swan?"

She shook her head, "No, just surprised, that's all. I haven't this in years." She watched as he masterfully maneuvered through the pay-per-view menu to select it., laughing at his light mumble of "Bloody hell, this is longer than that one with the blue people" before they settled in to the sound of church bells.

At first, she could see him jotting down notes and making quick searches on his phone as they watched, but as Maria arrived at the Von Trapp estate and was introduced to The Captain, his usual movie fidgeting stilled as the film arrested his whole attention.

And the longer Emma watched, the more she began to appreciate the uncanny choice her mother had made, connecting with the naive, afraid-of-love heroine who, despite her best effort, even resorting to running away, could not escape the draw of the grief-hardened and stern captain who, underneath his stern exterior, was a soul of compassion and love.

As the two stared into each other's eyes as they made their way through the complicated dance steps, she felt Killian shift, wrapping his arm around her and linking his fingers with hers, his thumb sweeping a slow arch over her skin over and over as he pressed his nose into her hair. Even without seeing his face, she somehow knew that he was there with her, feeling as though they were, perhaps, watching themselves in another life and another time, another family and another world.

Emma was not a spiritual person by any definition, but sitting there in the leather couch in a darkness only broken by the changing scenes before them, wrapped in her husband's warmth and love, feeling each slow and steady breath in his chest as if it where her own, a profound sensation washed over her. It was one she would later liken, only ever in the privacy of her mind, to the sort of stories she heard at one particular group home, who's matron was a deeply religious woman who forced them all to say prayers and read aloud from her holy books (often as she was beating them to "help save their souls" but Emma no longer allowed those memories to rear up anymore, no need for their bitter froth to stain ehr sea of tranquility), where saints who had found their calling and fulfilled their service were granted a divine peace- the sort of calm stillness that only comes with being completely whole, no part of self missing or denied, the whole of one's soul sitting exactly as it should within the body.

There, watching as this Captain and nun, who by rights, should never have met, each passing their lives in the solitude of the walls they had created around themselves, were granted the gift of a second chance by the random tides of fate, and once found, fought together against the foes that opposed them, it was as if the last tiny piece in her soul, which had been ever so slightly out of place, even now, finally slid into its place.

She didn't realize she was crying until the credits were rolling, when without questioning, Killian simply tilted her head up with a gentle brush of his knuckles to her chin to press the most tender kiss to her lips as his thumb wiped them away.

She only realized they had fallen asleep there when she was briefly wakened by Henry, carefully draping a blanket over the pair of them, brushing her hair back from her face and pressing a kiss so sweet to her forehead she half expected the rainbows of true love to ripple out. But as he pulled back to adjust the blanket again and turned to turn off the TV, Emma knew that even though there had been no ripples outward, that it had washed over her within, and the last tiny shred of doubt that she couldn't ever shake, despite even Archie's best efforts, was banished by this small, little, insignificant, Kiss of True Love.

The blush that went with that tiny smile was another delight.

Since that night, when she knew that Killian had been right there with her in whatever revelation… or maybe it wasn't a revelation so much as a great understanding… she'd experienced, she made it a point of calling him that whenever she needed to tell him, without having words, that she "would never ask him to be less than he is."- He'd shifted noticeably and sound she'd never heard from him rumbled up from his chest when Maria had uttered those words. Unable to help herself, she shifted her hand to bring their fingers up to her mouth to press a soft kiss to his knuckles in agreement, and he'd released the softest of sighs, his hand tightening ever so slightly. Then she'd let their hands settle back where they had previously rested, a tiny smile at the corner of her lips as she savored that tiny conversation beyond words, an unprompted promise between them beyond oaths. - And her use of the word "Captain" now never failed to cause the slightest dusting of color to blossom on his cheeks in pleasure at the memory and yet embarrassment at that enjoyment.

She blinked herself out of her satisfaction as she turned to make her way to the table at the back where Belle was sitting.

Emma was surprised that there was no book or anything else on her table other than a cup of coffee. Belle was notorious for camping out in the diner to work, frequently defending herself against the teasing by saying the ambient noise helped her focus. Emma's brow furrowed as she glanced back up to Belle to tease her about it and noticed that the unbothered expression that she'd been wearing shifted into something almost… nervous.

Emma immediately sat, "Belle, are you… is something wrong?"

Belle winced at her intense tone, before she licked her lips and cast a glance back towards the entrance to the diner, but what she was checking for, Emma wasn't sure.

Looking back, she grabbed her coffee cup, wrapping her hands around it, as if to give her hands something to do. Emma noticed that it was full, and not steaming, so it had been sitting there for a while.

Growing more concerned at Belle's silence, Emam reached across the table to touch Belle's wrist slightly, "Belle?"

There was a moment's hesitation, where she sucked in a breath, before Belle abruptly reached out to grip Emma's forearm. Hard.

"Do you know why Killian hates me?"

Emma was so caught off guard by the question that for a moment, she was sure that she had heard Belle's question incorrectly. "What?"

Now that the question was out though, whatever nerves had plagued her seemed to vanish as Belle reached out to grab her other hand, leaning closer. "Look, I know how it sounds, but I'm serious. Is it something I did? Is it-" she cut herself off. "Honestly, please, I need to know what it is. It's driving me insane. And I can't ask him, because he'll just say it's not anything. But he hates me. I know it. And now that I've realized it, I have to fix this. I need to do whatever I can to make this right. I have to do so-"

Emam cut off her increasingly rapid speaking, " Woah woah, Belle, calm down. Calm down. What are you talking about? Killian doesn't hate you. You are one of his closest friends."

But even as she was saying the words, Belle was shaking her head. "No, no, see I thought that too, but then I started noticing things. I don't know what made it stand out, but as soon as it felt like something was off, I could see it all the time."

Emma was thrown. "Saw what? What are you talking about?"

Belle glanced over her shoulder again, and Emma realized that she wasn't looking towards the door, she was glancing at the booth in the corner that Killian had settled himself into, facing away from them.

"See look, he's doing it right now."

Emma furrowed her brows, trying to see what Belle was talking about. Front he way he was holding his shoulders, she could tell he had his phone out and was probably reading something, most likely the morning news. He loved staying up to date with all the happenings in the world, thought the digital delivery of news was a marvel.

Her eyes flicked back to the woman across from her, somewhat concerned now as she met Belle's earnest expression.

"Belle…." she tried to find a gentle way to put it, "Belle, he is just reading on his phone."

But Belle shook her head. "No, I don't mean that. I mean, whenever you are talking to someone else and he's sitting in a booth, he always sits facing you. He keeps you in his line of sight all the time." Now that Belle mentioned it, Emam realized she was right. "But see, whenever you sit with me? He always turns around. Or finds some way to not be looking."

Emma racked her memory, but she couldn't think of another time that stood out in her memory. "I uhhh… I can't say I've noticed anything. Are you… sure?" She winced slightly, but didn't really have a better way to put it.

But if Belle took offence, she didn't show it, nodding earnestly instead. "No, I'm sure. He's always shifting away from me when we are in a room together, and is always trying to find a way to back out of getting together with me, offering to invite Snow or Henry or you. Because he can't stand being around me." Belle's brow furrowed as well. "But if you don't know what I'm talking about, then he hasn't mentioned it to you."

Emma was struggling to grasp the implication of what Belle was saying, and in her distracted state, she spoke in Killian's defense without thinking it through.

"Killian wouldn't say anything if he thought it would negatively affect my relationship with you. He probably didn't want me to treat you any differently based on what he feels."

Belle sat back, a horrified look on her face, "So he does hate me!"

"No! Nonono, that's not what I meant at all." Emma frantically waved her hands, trying to backtrack, "I just meant that if he did, that would be why he hasn't told me. But I am sure there is a good explanation for his behavior! I can ask! Look, let's go talk to him right now and get this sorted out."

She made to stand, but Belle grabbed her arm, "No! I don't want to force myself on to him if being around me makes him uncomfortable. Look, just forget I said anything. Please?"

Belle was looking at her so earnestly, with such a desperate intensity, that Emma couldn't help but agree, nodding. Belle gave her a sad but grateful smile as she patted the hand she'd been holding, before beginning to gather up her stuff, the smile slipping away into a heartbroken expression.

Emma was well aware of how well Belle regarded Killian and valued his friendship, and she couldn't imagine how she was feeling, this weird notion that rather than sharing a mutual friendship, he secretly hated her. And Emma couldn't take that laying down, for both Killian and Belle's sake.

"Fine, I won't bring it up, but Belle?" she waited until she had the woman's full attention, her heart clenching at the start of tears she could see welling in the woman's eyes. "I won't bring it up out of the blue, but if I see something, I am going to bring it up. I don't know what's going on, but I think there is more to this. Because I know Killian cares for you."

The sad smile was even weaker than the last, but she didn't say no as she grabbed her abgs and stood, making her way to the door and out of the diner. Emma sat for a moment longer, thinking over the bizarre conversation, and tried to tell herself that it was just Belle's words messing with her head that caused her see Killian stiffen as he caught sight of her in his peripheral, and didn't relax until he tracked her progress down the sidewalk and out of view of the diner's windows.

Emma felt like she was going insane. She was hyper aware of every instance in which Belle was referenced in conversation, trying to subtly study his reactions to see if there was a flicker of something that didn't belong there.

But she never saw a single thing.

But the true insanity was when she was watching him share space with Belle. In any context, she was always checking him out of the corner of her eye. And she felt like she was a blind person being able to see for the first time.

If Belle hadn't said anything, Emma never would have seen it, but now she couldn't unsee it. And it worried her.

Because it seemed like Belle was right.

At pool night, when she and Killian and a few others would go out to the Rabbit Hole to kick it and relax for an evening, and Belle would join them, Killian never approached her if she was alone. He would only come over if she was standing next to someone else, and would never stand next to her, always keeping their conversation partner between the two of them.

If he wasn't talking to her, Emma noticed that regardless of how deep into conversation he was, he seemed to be constantly aware of where Belle was in a room, either keeping his back to her, or shifting so that he was farther back in the room than she was.

And whenever he did approach, whether to join the conversation or to simply pass by, he would loudly clear his throat, or cough, or make some other sort of noise.

The weird thing was, in conversation with her, he didn't act strangely, giving her his full attention and smiling and laughing, even when she could tell Belle was straining for normalcy. Even when on the phone, his posture was relaxed and he never seemed impatient or like he was humoring her.

Emma needed Belle to see it though, that despite his bizarre, if very real behavior, was not a reflection of his friendship with her. So she was trying to convince Belle without words that he was ok with her, and so would frequently invite her over to join a conversation when they were out in a group, or to join them at home for dinner, so she could see that he would talk to her normally and engage in thoughtful conversation.

But then, probably only because of how hypervigilant she was being, she started to notice something new. Well two new Belle came up in conversation between the two of them, the tiniest of furrows would appear. Just for a moment. And when speaking with Belle, his conversations were getting briefer, eyes constantly flickering around the room and to her, as if searching for an escape.

The other was unrelated to Belle, but she supposed just because she was paying such close attention that she was starting to notice it. While Killian had always been physically affectionate, and ever since they'd found out she was pregnant, he'd been much more protective, it seemed like lately he couldn't keep his hands off of her. Always touching her, kissing her, murmuring indecencies in her ear. She didn't want to say something and scare him off, especially since sex had been off the tabel more often than not with how she was feeling. She just figured he was extremely horney and didn't realize he was doing it, and she didn't want to make him self conscious about it.

But the final nail in the coffin she found quite by accident, about two months after her initial conversation with Belle. She was tidying up the kitchen with the house to herself, having finally convinced Killian to go take some time to himself on the Jolly and stop hovering over her, and picked up his phone to put it on the charger, clicking it on to check the time as she did, forgetting that he had insisted that her face also be programmed to unlock it- "I insist that my cellular phone recognize your beautiful face too." "That's not what facial recognition means, Killian." "I am certain that it does. I insist."- And when the phone opened, she was distracted from the time by the red bubble above the phone icon, and more specifically, the 15 it was displaying.

With a frown, she clicked onto it, and gasped. Line after line of missed calls from Belle, as well as 15 new voicemails of varying lengths, mostly from the last two weeks. Unable to help herself, even as she felt guilt for snooping, she clicked over to his text messages, and saw that Belle had been texting him about once a day, some with something as simple as "Good morning!" and to none of which he'd replied.

She put his phone down on the charger, completely shocked.

She had no idea. Belle was absolutely right.

Killain hated her for some reason, and she'd had no idea.

"Swan?"

She startled when Killian called her name from the doorway, a strange expression on his face.

She blinked once, shaking her head slightly, before she turned to smile at him. "Hey there sailor. I thought you were out at the Jolly, getting her ready for your boys trip."

He stepped forward, an odd expression on his face, "You are welcome to join us love, you know that."

She nodded, waving a hand, "No I know. But you two should spend more time together. I know you've been itching to get her out on the water for a while anyway."

A tiny shadow flashed over his face, but she had no idea what it's cause was. "Aye. Being out with your son and my ship is all I want. I simply came to retrieve my phone."

His mention of it reminded her of what she'd seen, and for a moment, she thought about bringing it up, but she didn't want to ruin his time with Henry. So she decided to let it go.

"I just put it on the charger, so it may not have a full battery." She turned and grabbed it, walking it over to him, reaching out to put it in his hand. "Best not keep your lady waiting Captain."

She went to press her customary kiss to his lips, but was shocked when he leaned back, a tight smile on his lips as he slipped his phone into his pocket.

"Aye, best get going. Wouldn't want to keep the Jolly waiting."

And with that odd statement, he gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder, turned and left.

The whole day, she was considering every interaction she could remember between Belle and Killian. Had it been willful ignorance on her part? Did she just not want to see it? She had honestly thought that after all this time and after everything they'd been through, his feelings towards Belle would be devoid of any external influence outside the context of their friendship. But maybe she was wrong.

But how did she talk to Killian about it?

She was so lost in thought when she heard Henry's "Mom?" she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Christ Henry, don't scare me like that," she muttered as she braced her hand on her chest.

"Sorry," he mumbled, and despite how distracted she was, she could tell something about his posture was wrong.

"No worries, kid. What's up? What aren't you 'savoring the bracing sea air' with Killian? I thought you two were going to go sailing?"

Henry's jaw clenched, something she had never seen him do before. "Yeah, I was. I just...um…" he voice faded as he glanced down, before he seemed to steel himself. He brought this eyes back to her, and Emma immediately stepped forward.

"Henry? What's wrong?"

Because the eyes that were looking at her were cold and hurt, angry and determined. This wasn't teenage angst or childish temper. It was the expression of a man betrayed. A man disappointed. And he was looking at her like that.

"How could you?" It wasn't yelled, and that was why she flinched. Because it was said softly, like a hiss, his lips pulling up in a sneer as his hands clenched at his side. "How could you?"

Emma was at a loss, immediately stepping closer, reaching out to him, only stopping when Henry took a step back from her. She dropped her hands in bewilderment.

"Henry, I don't… I will give you any answers you want, I promise, but I don't know what you are talking about."

Henry continued to watch her for a moment, before she saw it. A flicker of desperate hope as he raised his chin a little higher, another thing she'd never seen him do.

He eyed her carefully, "So you have no idea that Killian thinks you think he's being unfaithful."

It took a full three seconds to realize that Henry wasn't laughing.

"He WHAT?"

Henry tilted his head and took a cautious step forward. "He was acting so weirdly all day, snapping at me for no reason, that when he finally outright yelled at me, I got a little peeved and yelled right back asking him what his problem was. And he just broke down, crying and saying that you thought he was cheating on you with Belle and that you thought that the whole sailing trip was just a ruse so that he cou-"

"Wait wait wait Stop." She rushed him, gripping at his shoulders. "Killian thinks I think he's cheating on me with BELLE?"

Her rising tone seemed to have broken whatever manly exterior he had psyched himself into on his way to confront her, the alien coldness in his eyes melting into hope.

"And I take it by your tone that ….that is not what you think is going on."

She didn't even bother responding to him, didn't bother with the Bug or calling him. She just needed to be at his side, and in a whisk of white tinged smoke, abruptly, she was. He was hunched over his desk, head on his arms flask in hand. That was the first sign that this was very bad, because he'd made the foolish, if adorable decision to stop drinking with her once they'd found out she was pregnant.

The next indicator was that he didn't notice her arrival. He always seemed to have a preternatural sense of where she was and the fact that she was not five feet away and he didnt know she was there sent horror down her spine.

This was very not good.

The last thing she noticed was the one that broke her heart. The small quiet sobs that were still making his shoulders shake. He was still crying from his breakdown in front of Henry. Or crying again.

Knowing he was in a state, and knowing that it was her he was upset at, she didn't think it wise to get any closer. So she called softly.

"Killian?"

His head snapped upright, his face blotchy and his eyes swollen. "Emma?"

He used her name. This was a catastrophe. But she could fix this. She would fix this. She owed it to both of them to be the one to step up this time.

"Can I sit?" she gestured to the seat across from him.

"Young Henry wasted no time then I see," he mumbled, and she had to hand it to him, even four sheets to the wind, he was still quick on the uptake.

She had to smile slightly as she took a seat across the table from him, because even as resigned as he sounded, there was still an undertone of affection and admiration. Like he respects the executioner they chose to behead him. She hid a wince at the mental comparison.

"Yeah, he was a man on a mission. He marched home and in a manly display you would have been proud of, demanded, 'How could you?'" She tried to say it lightly, but he didn't seem to read it very well.

Panic flashed in his eyes, "Emma, I give you my word I didn't level any accusations. I promise. I didn't -"

She cut him off, 'Killian, I know. I know you didn't. I'd say imagine my shock when Henry said that you thought I was under the impression you were 'being unfaithful' to me, but well, you wouldn't think it was a shock." He winced, dropping his gaze.

"The boy did always have your tact," he mumbled, but he refused to meet her eye. Emma felt the urge to just let this go, to make peace and gloss over this. But she knew that if she chose the easy path, he would never blush when she called him Captain. He would never give her favorite smile again.

So she tilted her chin up- Oh that is where Henry learned it- and knew it was her turn to reach out. Neither of them were at fault, and as such, she needed him to know that. So reach out she did, placing her hand over his.

"Ok first, I have not, ever" she gave his hand a squeeze to emphasize her point "ever thought you would be unfaithful to me. You never turned your eyes during all the time I ran, all the time we were apart. I would never even consider the idea that you would do so now. You are the most loyal, most dedicated man I know. Look at me and tell me you hear what I am saying." She tacked on the last sentence when he did not look up at her even while she was talking.

She could see the battle of wills, but her brave pirate to the core, he took a deep breath and finally met her eyes, fear still evident in his.

She didn't speak, just let him study her, reading her face as easily as he had when they had first met all those years ago. And she felt another small smile tug at her lips as, with every second longer he stared at her, the fear faded and the anguish on his brow slowly eased, until in a single moment, she could tell that he believed her.

And she was proved right a moment later, he shifted, setting the flask aside to reach out to her with both hand and hook, a long exhale rattling out of his chest as he breathed out the last of the breakdown. She gave him a small smile with a nod, which he managed to muster in return.

Now she needed to address the difficult part.

"Ok. So …." the smile he managed slid off his face again as he swallowed hard, "we obviously had a massive misunderstanding. I am going to say my bit, and then I am going to let you talk. Is that ok?"

His jaw clenched, but he nodded. She sucked in a deep breath. This was no one's fault, and it needed to stay that way. "I won't lie. I am hurt that you seem to think I have so little faith in you, after all this time."

He leaned forward, grabbing her upper arm, "No love its-"

She held up a finger to stop him, trying to soften it with a smile. She thinks she might have managed it because even though his face was still pinched tight in anxiety, his hand relaxed. Suddenly, nothing seemed as important as being with him for this conversation.

She abruptly stood and before there was time for fear to make its way onto her face, she took the hand that had been gripping her so fervently and used it to tug him up to standing, leading him to his bunk. She sat down on the edge and felt something in her relax with relief when he joined her without hesitation, shoulder to waist, and she tilted her head to rest against him, reaching out to play with fingers, feeling his body shift with each breath.

And suddenly, it was easy.

"Like I said, I am hurt. But-" she raised her voice a little bit when she felt him shift again to interrupt her "but, I obviously was doing something that made you think that. And that you were even more hurt, thinking that I doubted your faithfulness. I want you to know that for that, I am sorry. It was never my intention. And I want to know what I have been doing that caused you to doubt me, so that I can work on it? Can you do that? Can you explain?"

And having put everything inside her out on the table, she knew with absolute certainty that they would overcome this. Even as she felt tears well up in her eyes, she knew that they would come out of this even stronger. That was who they were.

She felt Killian shift, and suddenly he was drawing invisible patterns on her skin as she let him order his thoughts.

When he spoke, his voice was soft, apologetic, "It started a few months ago. I thought perhaps I'd been imagining it, but every time I was around Belle, it felt like you were watching me more closely for some reason. You kept bringing her up in conversation, watching me out of the corner of your eye. And then today, you had my phone, and I just know that you looked at it, and saw those messages and calls from Belle. You were so instant that I get back to 'her' that I just figured you thought you'd found all the proof you needed."

And then suddenly it all clicked. She stood up with a gasp, his hand tight in hers as she looked down on him, surprise and vulnerability keeping his features slack.

"That was the reason you got so touchy," she whispered, bringing her other hand up to cup his face. "You were trying to tell me without saying that you weren't interested in anyone but me." He looked up at her with the spark of hope lighting his eyes.

"Aye, I'd thought that perhaps you thought with the changes you were undergoing with your pregnancy, that I'd somehow found you less desirable, and turned to Belle. Which isn't the case at all," he rushed to assure her.

She placed a finger over his lips, "I know. I know you never strayed. And I know that you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, if it were ever to come to that," she gave him a saucy half smile witha raised eyebrow,and mentally patted herself on the back when she got him to smile under where her finger was still pressed to his lips.

A moment later, he kissed said finger, and managed to chuckle, "Aye, you know how I love it so when you watch me."

She flicked him on the nose for that, even as he raised his own brow at her. But then his brow furrowed, "But Swan," she almost started crying again at his return to the pet name " while I appear to have been mistaken in the reasoning for the change, there was a change. Why?"

She also sighed, dropping her hand to thumb at the small divot in his chin, the one that only formed when he was frowning.

"You're right. So now I have a question for you. Can you answer me honestly?"

The furrow in his brow was not more confusion than worry, but he nodded anyway.

"Can you tell me why you hate Belle?"

And it was the fact that he only managed a high pitched "What?" that convinced her she had been absolutely wrong. Any more eloquent and his shock would have been fake.

"And I can see that I was mistaken in my assumptions as you were in yours," she soothed.

But he pulled back from her hand, "You thought I hated Belle?"

She fought down her own defensiveness athis accusatory tone, knowing that he must have felt the same way only moments ago when she said that she was hurt by his doubt. She forced a breath, "I did, yeah. But it wasn't unprompted. Do you remember the day at the diner a few months back, when Belle asked to talk to me?"

He nodded, hurt still plain on his face, but she could see him thinking. Connecting dots that he wasn't aware were there until right now.

She nodded in agreement to his unspoken conclusions he was drawing. "So she wanted to talk to me because she was convinced that you hated her and she wanted to know why."

"What on earth gave her that impression?" he said, and she was relieved that the hurt had faded into worry for his friend.

"I asked her the same thing, because i thought that was absurd. I told her as much. BUt she said that you acted weirdly around her, and once she said something, I couldn't help but watch for it."

"Which is why you started acting so strangely," he said slowly. "And then the inviting her over was trying to get her to see that I didn't." She nodded.

"And then this morning," she started, and he stiffened. She ran a hand through his hair and when he closed his eyes and a ghost of her smile nudged at the edge of his lips, she knew the worst was behind them. "I saw all the calls and messages you were ignoring, and thought that despite everything, she was right. But you'd not been answering her calls or messages because you thought that doing so would somehow prove my doubts, even though you weren't actually cheating, right?"

She didn't need him to nod to know she was right.

"But now I need to ask, because as you said, the was a change. Or not really a change, but you defiantly act differently around Belle than you do around anyone else. So … why?"

He sighed, a quiet "bloody hell" slipping out as he dropped his head with a shake. She was worried for a moment that somehow she'd stumbled onto some new hurt, but when he brought his eyes back up to heres, they were clear and there was a wry smile on his face.

"Did she mention when she started noticing this, perchance?"

She was caught off guard by the nonsequitur, but shook her head, "Actually she didn't. She said that she wasn't sure how long you'd been doing it, only that she'd only recently noticed."

That seemed to be the answer he was expecting, because he closed his eyes lightly with a rueful chuckle, "Aye. That's what I figured. But while she may not recall, I can pinpoint the exact day I altered my behavior around her."

Emma tilted her head slightly in question. In response, rather than give her an answer, he shifted back onto the bed, taking her with him. It took a bit of shifting and wiggling, but eventually they were stretched out side by side, her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, feeling each breath, while he ran his hand up and down her back.

"Do you recall those six weeks of peace we had? The odd lull in activity before the town went to absolute shite?"

She nodded.

"Aye, I'll bet you do. I seem to have one other very particular memory of that time. Do you happen to recall? Why, it was when you finally -"

She slapped him on the chest and he laughed, pinching her lightly on the side, making her squeak, before they both settled.

"During that time, Belle and I were researching, you recall?" She nodded again. "Aye, well on this particular day, I allowed myself to be overcome with frustration, and in vexation, I flipped one of the pages on my research board a bit more harshly than was called for, and it fell to the ground. She obviously didn't realize I saw, but when the board hit the ground, Belle startled and took a small step away from me. I don't even think it was a conscious reaction."

Emma sucked in a breath of realization.

"Aye, I knew that it probably wasn't even a conscious reaction, but there was evidently still some part of her that was still frightened of me, whether she truly was or not. You know better than anyone Swan, that the body will oftentimes be more aware of our deepest fears than even our minds." She knew he was thinking of her magic and her hand. It felt like a lifetime ago. "So I made it a point, from then on, to make sure that she didn't fear me, even subconsciously. I'd be sure to keep myself farther away from the door than she was, not approach her without warning or get too close."

Emma shut her eyes for a moment, "How did I never notice you doing this?" She kind of felt bad. But as always, he knew what she was thinking.

"Worry not swan, I have been doing it for so long, I don't even think about it anymore. It's not a surprise you didn't notice. When I first altered my behavior, you understandably had other things on your mind, and by the time you had any amount of thought to set aside for something like that, I'd been doing it so long, it wasn't a different behavior any more."

Emma shrugged, "Well it makes a lot of sense when you explain it like that."

"As do most things, I'm sure," he mumbled. He let out a uff when she smacked him again, before she sat up to look down at him.

His face was smooth, eyes clear, the hint of her smile on her lips, his hair feathering out from his forehead, beard tinted with red. There were new crows feet at the corner of his eyes and within the red there was grey sprinkled in. He was just as beautiful as they day they'd met.

"We good?" she asked softly, brushing her thumb across his face.

His face went even more soft, his own hand coming up to mirror hers, brushing against the apple of her cheek.

"Aye. Forgive me for my doubt."

She pressed a soft kiss into his palm.

"Always. Forgive me for my own?"

He pressed an answering kiss into her own palm.

"Always."

Then she leaned down to seal it with a fervent kiss to his lips, before slowly easing back into his warm form, closing her eyes to savor everything about him.

"I love you, Emma Swan Jones," he whispered quietly after a time.

Her heart overflowed into a small smile on her lips.

"And I love you… Captain."

And somehow she knew, even without looking, that just above her favorite smile, he was blushing.