The Valentine

Twelve-year-old Henry took a deep breath and looked down at the red, pink and white card in his hand. It was covered with hearts and flowers and a whimsical drawing of cupid with his arrow notched and pointed toward a dark haired boy and a blonde haired girl who were shyly looking up at each other.

His stomach felt funny—like he didn't know whether he was excited or whether he was about to throw up—as he thought about what he planned to do. What if she didn't like it? What if she didn't like him the way he liked her? What if she laughed at him and everybody at school made fun of him?

He didn't think Grace would do that to him, but you never know. He'd only just gotten over thinking of girls as gross, and honestly, they kind of scared him.

Taking another deep breath and then letting it out, Henry nodded in determination. He'd just survived an adventure on Neverland. He'd been kidnapped by Pan's minions, and he'd have literally lost his heart if his moms and his dad and the rest of his family hadn't come to save him. If he was brave enough for that, he was brave enough to let a girl know how he felt about her.

He looked over the card one more time. The front said "Roses are red, violets are blue…", and then on the inside it continued, "...for our love I will always find you. You are my heart's treasure." How perfect was this card? It even had their family's unofficial motto on it!

Henry's pen hovered for a moment over the illustration on the inside. What looked like a pirate's treasure chest sat upon a beach next to a hole that had obviously recently been dug. The chest was open and red, white and pink hearts spilled out of it.

Nodding his head in determination, Henry added his own sentiments below the illustration. "I think about you every hour of every day. Do you think we could spend some time together?"

He debated whether or not to sign his name to the card, but in the end decided against it. What if one of the other kids at school saw it? He'd die of embarrassment if anyone else found out that he like liked Grace!

"Kid, it's about time for school!" His mom called up the loft stairs. "You ready to go?"

Henry hastily slid the card into a plain, red envelope, and put it on top of his school books before bounding down the stairs and depositing the entire pile on the kitchen table. "Just a minute Mom. I need the bathroom."

"Okay," he heard Mom say, "but hurry, Kid. It snowed last night, and the roads are a mess."

Emma took a last swig of her coffee, and then dumped her stack of case files on the table on top of Henry's stuff. She figured she had just enough time to snag a pop-tart from the cupboard before Henry would be ready for school.

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose. It was barely 7:15 am, and she already had a headache. Why had she thought it was a good idea to bring an armload of case files home with her to work on after-hours? She was a good person; why did she want to torture herself?

The minute hand ticked past 7:30, and Emma felt her frustration rise. "Come on, Henry! If we don't leave soon, we're both going to be late!"

Hoping to speed things along a bit, Emma grabbed her files, put them aside, and then shoved Henry's school stuff into his bookbag.

"Sorry mom!" Henry said, bursting out of the bathroom and donning his peacoat and scarf. "I just...well...I mean…"

Emma looked at him with concern. "Something wrong, Kid? You can tell me; you know that, right?"

He looked aside and then nodded, his face flaming. "I know. It's not a big deal. It's just...it's Valentine's Day, and there's this girl I kind of..you know..like, and I have a card for her. I just wanted to make sure my hair looks good and stuff."

Emma smiled and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure she'll love it, Kid. Any girl would be lucky to have you."

Half an hour later, Henry safely dropped off at school, Emma strolled into the Sheriff's office, and started the long process of removing all her winter outerwear. "Brr," she said, "It's cold out there!"

Across the bullpen, Hook nodded absently and muttered something about how he was glad she made it safely, as he continued looking down at whatever he'd been reading.

They'd returned to Storybrooke from Neverland three weeks ago. With Pan safely stowed in Pandora's box—which Gold had stored in some super secret location with all kinds of protective magic surrounding it—and Greg and Tamara no longer living, things had gone back to what passed for normal in Storybrooke. Emma didn't want to jinx it, but they'd been blessedly villain-free for the entire three weeks.

David had decided to take some time off of his co-sheriffing duties to spend quality time with Mary Margaret (and Emma suspected, though she really didn't want to know about this, he also took time off so that they could focus on making Mary Margaret's "I want another baby" wish come true), which had left Emma down one officer of the law. She'd subsequently hired Hook to be her deputy.

She'd thought he'd have been thrilled with the offer to work with her, thought he'd get all flirty and lay the charm and innuendo on thick, but that hadn't been the case. He'd been strangely withdrawn ever since they'd returned from Neverland. He was always there when she needed him, but their camaraderie and banter was just...gone...and Emma had no idea what had happened. Had she done something to drive him away?

She didn't want to think about all of it too much, but she missed him. Somewhere along the way—probably in Neverland—she'd begun to think of him as a friend, maybe one of her best friends in Storybrooke. He'd become her confidante, and he was always there to offer a listening ear and wise advice when she needed it.

But lately...things were just different.

And she kind of hated it.

If only Neal would adopt the same attitude. Emma felt the headache intensify at the thought of her ex. He'd wasted no time asking her to lunch with him the very day that they had returned from Neverland. She'd stood him up, not sure what she wanted with him. A part of her still loved him; a part of her would probably always love him, but they were different people now. And truth be told, though she believed at least a part of him truly believed he was doing what was best for her by abandoning her, there are some wounds that can just never fully heal.

And so, the next time Neal had asked her out, she'd told him as gently as she could that she did care about him, and she was glad that Henry had him in his life, but she'd moved on and their opportunity for a relationship had died more than a dozen years ago.

She'd hoped he would accept it and move on himself, but so far, that hadn't been the case. He still pestered her to give him another chance every few days.

Hook put aside the paper he'd been reading, and stood and stretched. Emma watched, enjoying the way his muscles moved and bunched beneath the thin cotton of his shirt. "How can I be of service today, Swan?"

Emma eyed the files on her desk. "Can you file these?" she asked. "They go in that file cabinet against the wall. They're arranged by case number."

"Aye," Killian said simply, scooping up the files without a glance in her direction.

Killian grabbed the files and made his way quickly toward the file cabinet she'd indicated. He felt his heart clench at the brief nearness to her, and the scent of her vanilla and cinnamon shampoo, and the electricity he felt in the air when he was near her.

He'd promised Bae he would back off, give him a chance to try to reunite his family. He figured he owed him that at least.

But it was torture to be so near Swan and not truly be with her. He loved her, and he knew that would never change, but he wanted her to be truly happy. He hoped that happiness would include him, but if she chose to pursue it with Bae, he would abide by her wishes. Somehow he would let her go.

Perhaps it had been unwise to accept the deputy position and work with her every day, but he only had so much strength. He could not—would not—deny her any request she made.

He blew out a long breath, shaking his head to clear his melancholy thoughts. Best to focus on the task at hand rather than the sad state of his romantic life.

Killian made short work of the files, but when he'd placed the last one in its proper place, he realized he was left with one last thing in his hand—a plain red envelope. He looked down at it quizzically. What was this?

Returning to his desk, he slit it open with his hook and then pulled out the folded piece of cardstock inside.

Killian's eyes widened as he read the words the brightly decorated missive contained.

"Roses are red, violets are blue, for our love, I will always find you. You are my heart's treasure."

And then handwritten below, "I think about you every hour of every day. Do you think we could spend some time together?"

Killian felt his heart pick up speed. This missive had been on the bottom of the stack of files; the stack Emma had handed him. Had Emma meant to give it to him? She must have; what other explanation could there be?

Looking down, Killian read the sentiments on the cardstock once more: "I think about you every hour of every day. Do you think we could spend some time together?"

Was it possible? Was she truly declaring her feelings for him?

He knew she felt something for him, had known it from the beginning. She was an open book after all.

I can't take the chance that I'm wrong about you.

Even as far back as their journey on the beanstalk, there had been something between them, but her heart had been so bruised, so guarded that she couldn't give in to it.

Were her walls coming down? Was this her way of letting him know she wanted to explore the feelings that kiss in Neverland exposed?

For the first time since returning from the accursed jungles of Neverland, Killian felt hope. Aye, he'd promised Bae he'd back off to give Swan a chance to sort out her feelings, but if this was really happening—if she had made her choice and that choice was him, there was no chance in any realm he was going to turn her away.

Slowly a plan began to form in his mind.

"Swan," he called over, "I'll be back in two shakes."

As the sun began to set that night, Emma found herself making her way down to the docks questions swirling through her mind and a strange sense of anticipation in her heart.

For three weeks, Hook had effectively ignored her, and then today….well, today was different. This afternoon, just before he left for the day, Hook had placed a single, folded sheet of paper on the desk in front of her, then, without a word, he left.

She'd looked after him for a full minute, wondering, for probably the five hundredth time in the last month what was up with him. Then she'd unfolded the sheet of paper and smoothed it out on the desk in front of her, smiling at the neat, almost flowery handwriting.

Swan,

I would love to spend time with you. You need never have any question about that, love. Please meet me this evening at sunset at the Jolly Roger. I think perhaps it's time we talk.

Yours,

Killian

Emma had spent the better part of the last two hours trying to decide whether or not to meet Hook as he'd asked. On the one hand, it was a risk. If she went and he made some grand gesture trying to "win her heart" as he'd promised to do in Neverland—that was, well, a lot. Even now, all these months later she just wasn't sure she could take a chance that she was wrong about him. If she let her guard down and he broke her heart…

On the other hand, she missed him, really, truly missed him. All through their time in Neverland she'd told herself he annoyed her. She'd told herself she wished he'd just back off, wished he'd stop with the flirting and innuendo and—even worse—the genuine caring and concern in his eyes. But now that he had backed off, well now she realized how important he had become to her. Leaving aside any question of romantic feelings, he had been her friend, a friend who genuinely got her. Someone who could raise her spirits when they were down, someone who knew exactly what she needed and when she needed it, someone who believed in her 100%, always.

And it was that thought that convinced her that meeting him as he asked was what she wanted to do.

Besides, Henry was staying with Regina tonight, and David and Mary Margaret had big Valentine's Day plans, so what else was she going to do?

Which is why she found herself at the dock where the Jolly Roger was moored just as the sun touched the horizon.

She wasn't quite sure of the protocol for boarding a 300-year-old pirate ship. Were you supposed to knock? Yell out for permission? Just climb on up? Just to cover her bases, she did all three.

A moment later, Killian's dark head poked out from the hatch, and the smile he gave her was tender and boyish—and, okay, if she was being honest, kind of made the butterflies dance in her stomach.

"Come aboard love," he said. "Dinner awaits us in the captain's quarters."

Curious, Emma did as instructed, walking the gangplank, and then climbing down the steps of the hold. When she turned around and got a proper look at the captain's quarters, her jaw dropped.

There were candles. Everywhere. A table was set in the middle of the room with a red and white checked table cloth, a beautiful bouquet of roses, accented with baby's breath, two elaborate place settings and a bottle of wine.

She turned confused eyes on the pirate standing before her, dressed in his customary leather, but with a red brocade vest rather than his customary black. He looked...nervous. Reaching up to scratch behind his ear, he lowered his eyes to the table. He uncorked the wine and poured them each a generous portion of what looked like Merlot, before clearing his throat and looking back at her.

"I suppose I should have chosen some manner of fancier victuals, but I wanted to provide you with something I knew you would like."

With a flourish, he removed the cover from her place setting to reveal a steaming grilled cheese sandwich and a generous helping of onion rings.

"Um-" she said, "it looks good?"

She had no idea why it came out as a question.

"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing toward the table.

"Uh...okay."

Hook came around the table and held her chair for her, pushing it in gently once she was seated, and then he took his own seat.

"I'm afraid I only have the most rudimentary knowledge of courting protocols within your realm," he said, "but it would seem that sharing a candlelight meal with your sweetheart is a custom that transcends the years and the realms."

Suddenly it clicked. Hook hadn't just asked her here to talk. He asked her here on a date.

Emma got abruptly to her feet, heart pounding. "Hook? What's going on here?" she asked, "is this...are you...was this a date?"

Killian slowly got to his feet, brow furrowed. "Aye?" he said carefully. "Was that not what you intended in the missive you gave me this morning?"

"Was that not what I….what?"

"The card you gave me, love," he said. As though to illustrate, he pulled a red envelope from his breast pocket and handed it to her.

Thoroughly confused, she pulled the (kind of gaudy) card free from the envelope and read it.

"Killian, where did you even get this, and why do you think it's from me?"

A look of confusion, quickly followed by what might be embarrassment passed across his features. "I think it's from you, Swan, because you gave it to me. It was at the bottom of the stack of files you asked me to put away for you."

For a moment, Emma merely looked at him, and then suddenly she understood. Taking her seat again, she started laughing.

"I fail to see what is so amusing, love," Killian said, taking his own seat. Emma could hear the embarrassment and frustration in his voice, and that more than anything made her calm down. Surprised at her own boldness, Emma reached across the table and took hold of his hand and hook.

"Hook, Killian," she said, "I didn't give you that card, but I think I know what happened. This morning Henry was talking about this girl he has a crush on and about a Valentine he wanted to give her. Must have gotten mixed in with my stuff before we left."

Hook's face flamed and he pulled his hand free to scratch at his ear again. "I...I apologize for the misunderstanding Swan."

It was that moment, for whatever reason, that everything just...clicked into focus for Emma. The last three weeks, she'd missed him; that much she already knew. What she'd failed to grasp until this very moment was the fact that it wasn't just friendship and support she wanted from Hook. It was...well, she wasn't even sure she could define what exactly she wanted from him, but it was something more, something bigger, something that would change the course of her life forever.

The thought was scary, and yet also strangely comforting. She knew, knew deep down that she could trust her heart with him. And so, maybe it was time to take a leap of faith.

"Killian," she said, watching as he resolutely refused to look at her. Reaching across the table, she tipped up his chin until his eyes met hers. "It may be true that I didn't send you that Valentine, but...well...that doesn't mean it's not true."

His eyes widened. "Swan, are you saying-?"

She laughed nervously. "To be honest, I don't know exactly what I'm saying. I'm not good with letting down my walls and being vulnerable and stuff. I don't know exactly what I want to happen between us, but I know I want something with you. Do you—do you mind if we take things slow until I figure it out?"

The smile he gave her could have put the radiance of the sun to shame. "Love, I've got all the time in the world."

Notes:

-Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I hope it's warmer where you are than it is here.

-Special shoutout to the ladies on the CSSNS discord, and to the ladies in the OUAT Dinosaurs hangout for giving me ideas for what to have Henry write in his Valentine for Grace!