Again, my thanks to the reviewers and favouriters and followers. You make it worth it.

Emma awoke in bonechilling water, swimming, swimming towards the light, fighting to the surface. She struggled towards the sunlight. She couldn't breathe; the water surrounded her. But she knew the water was an illusion, albeit an unbreakable one. She was lying on a flat hunk of granite, surrounded by a sea of grass. She could see the tops of the village's largest buildings a short distance away, but much of her view was blocked by the neverending, swaying grass. Her head lay on something soft that protected her from the hard rock beneath her. Something warm was pressed across her belly. She looked down to see his ringed hand lying unconscious and protective across the baby, as he too began to wake and shift. He pushed himself up, her head nearly slipping from where it had rested on his thigh. She still couldn't breathe for the seawater choking her.

Killian woke sharply from where he'd been napping in the sun, waiting on the headache to abate. Emma lay across him, soaked through, shivering and stone cold. He sat up and gathered her into his arms, and he pushed her wet hair away from her face. Saltwater dripped onto his dry shirt and trousers. He looked at her, panicked, her eyes open but unmoving, no breath. Her lips were starting to lose colour; her face already had; her limbs felt rigid as he tried to move her.

"Emma, breathe," he begged. He lifted her motionless body up and angled her face to his. Locking his gaze on her glazed, green eyes, he pressed his lips to hers. A pulse of magic blew glowed from him, and Emma blinked, eyes unfocussed but alive, and immediately coughed. He quickly shifted himself onto his knees and carefully lay her on her side, letting her cough out all of the saltwater in her lungs. "There, my love, just breathe in now. I've got you." She sucked in lungfuls of fresh meadow air as Killian rubbed circles across her back. He stroked her hair and her arms and her back silently as he listened to her breathing.

"You're here," he muttered in quiet amazement. As she recovered, he ran his hands down her legs, neck and fingers, touching her everywhere to check for injuries. When she stopped coughing and fighting for air, he rolled her onto her back as she breathed more evenly, still caught between panic and relief.

"Do you hurt anywhere else?" Emma shook her head, still fighting to speak. "Shhh, love, relax. Breathe in and out. Calm down, you're going to be just fine now." He took off his jacket and tucked it beneath her head. Emma closed her eyes against the strong sunshine and started to cry. She'd made it. She was back. She could feel her own tears trickling down her face. Killian had unlaced her wet, heavy dress and pulled it free of her. She lay in a thin cotton shift that would dry quickly in the dry heat of the grasslands.

Killian laid both hands across her bump, reverently, silently. Her shape had changed in the month she'd been stolen from him. The baby took up definite space now. Killian rested his forehead on her belly along with his hands, dragging up her chemise so that he could get at her skin. He kissed her low across the bump and started whispering to their daughter. "Hey, little girl, your Daddy's here. I missed you so very much. I bet you didn't even notice I've been gone. You've been hearing my voice, haven't you?" He was rewarded with kick against his left hand. Emma shot up into a sitting position.

"Oh my god, Killian, did you feel that?" she rasped. He looked thunderstuck, and Emma laughed. "First proper kick I've felt. She missed you. God knows I have." And then she felt herself start to cry properly. She grabbed almost blindly for him and managed to grab hold of his shoulders. She ran her hands down his arms until she came to his own hands. She tugged his left hand to her face, kissing each knuckle and massaging his palm with her thumbs. Not Hook. Two hands. She threaded her fingers through them.

"Killian. It's really you."

"Aye, love. You made it. Looks like I sent you home."

She laughed and kissed him. He slipped one hand beneath her head and left the other on her belly, where their daughter was still kicking and tumbling excitedly. "And our wee lass is as tough as her mum," he murmured. Killian eased Emma back down to the rock and kissed her more deeply, hugging her close. It was different, sacred, gorgeous, how Killian kissed her. All of that history that she'd only started to explore with Hook; Killian had already absorbed. Now this was coming home, far more permanent and solid than any house or flat or ship or realm. He anchored her absolutely to himself. Hook had been right; she'd know this feeling anywhere, this love and safety and warmth. She shuddered in the wet cotton, so Killian slipped her wet shift over her head and let his fingers wander over her, squeezing gently at her limbs to bring back the warmth.

"You know what happened…" she began, but Killian cut her off.

"No, love, my memories are gone," he continue to touch her as he spoke, reacquainting himself with her body. Her lips had regained their pink colouring and her hands were warming. "I can remember that you've been gone, and I know that you were with Hook because I've spoken of it with your father and mother. I can remember the snapshots that I told them, and I can remember the headaches and the ceaseless worry. But what actually happened between us, no, it's gone. I have no memory of knowing you before I met you in that camp in the Enchanted Forest."

"You drank the potion, then, like a good pirate," she grinned at him.

"Aye, I always do as beautiful, blond goddesses tell me."

Emma rolled her hand over his scruffy beard and kissed him again. "You don't, no. Or at least you take a stupid long time about it. You're a stubborn bastard, but god I love you so very much." She had to tell him. Everything. All that had happened over the last month, and all that had happened in her own childhood. They were going to be parents, and he needed to know every item on the shockingly long list of why she was so fucked up. She needed to know all of his.

"I love you, too, Swan. Are you truly well? Should I fetch a doctor?"

Emma scanned her eyes around them, a vast nothingness of plains, the village all but invisible from their vantage point. "Is there a doctor to be fetched, even if I did need one?"

"Of sorts, in the village. We've kept the villagers under close watch. They're working for Merlin, either voluntarily or otherwise."

Emma scraped her nails across Killian's chest in response, giving him an unsubtle smile. "No doctor necessary. Get undressed, Captain. We have some lost time to make up for."

Killian pulled his shirt over his head and Emma was up on her knees in a moment, smoothing her hands over his chest and shoulders while he worked open the laces of his trousers. He saw the worry line between her brows deepen as she slid her fingers around the fresh cuts and bruising on his shoulders and arms. She stopped one of his hands and drew it closer for inspection: his right hand was swollen and badly cut, and the palm covered in blisters from gripping the sword for long hours. He'd held it next to him even as he slept, as though he could fight off the memories converging in his head. She looked back up at him with tears in her eyes.

"Oh, Killian, the whole experience was so overwhelming for me, I forgot what it must have been for you…"

He shook off her worry and regret and buried his face in her neck, kissing and sucking a mark into the space at the base of her hairline. "It's been fucking awful, black, utterly desperate. We can talk about it later." Emma was already starting to make lovely noises of arousal, and he brought both hands to explore the soft undersides of her breasts. He kissed his way down her chest until he was licking her nipples and sucking one into his eager mouth.

He lifted his face from her body and started talking. Emma grew wetter with every word and dark whisper. "Did you spread your legs for him, Emma? Were you wet for him like you always are for me?"

"No," Emma denied, glad his memories of that moment on Hook's bed had been wiped, and not seeing any practical reason to refresh his memory. "I didn't trust him, not like you. We never… I never let him inside of me." There, that was certainly true.

"Did he suck on these? Did he pull them into his mouth and bite them?" Damn. Follow-up questions? She shook her head, somehow abating the lie with a non-verbal answer. Again, only once, and that didn't really count. She thought of the clearly well-more-than-1,000 women she knew nothing of, and decided that even True Love needed a few secrets keeping. He nipped hard at her right breast and squeezed the left, staring straight into her eyes. "Did he leave marks on your beautiful body, love, for me to find?" Emma's eyes went slightly wider, and Killian's eyes narrowed in response. He lifted his lips from her wet nipple and ran his hands and eyes everywhere, settling quickly on the deep scratch across her right hip. "Hook," he breathed, voice tense, and traced along the upper edge of the cut with the fingers of his intact left hand. "How did you get this?" he demanded, his temper taught as bowstring.

Emma tilted her chin in defiance. "An accident. Hook was ripping open my dress at the time –" Killian's grip on her body tightened – "but I resisted him, and he let me resist. He didn't force himself on me, and I never consented."

Killian moved his hands down between her legs, and she opened them willingly for him. His left hand continued tracing into her slickness and he lowered his mouth to lick her exactly where she had been wanting his wicked tongue for a month. His thumb took over in little circles as he rested his beard-roughened cheek against her thigh. "Did you want him?" he asked, voice low and sensual again.

Emma only answered with a low sound in the back of her throat. He slid one finger into her, still rubbing infuriatingly gentle circles, watching her closely all the time. "You smell so good, love," he mumbled, swiping his tongue across her once again. "You taste incredible. And he never put his mouth here?" Killian sucked her, then set off an indescribably good sensation as he teased his rough tongue over her clit to demonstrate his meaning. Emma sighed and reached down to wind her fingers into his hair. She shook her head furiously. "Never. I swear it," she answered truthfully. Killian settled his cheek against her inner thigh again, and watched his coated finger slip in an out of her in silence for a moment. Her breathing picked up, and her sighs grew a bit more desperate.

"Emma, did you ever reach your pleasure with him?"

"No," she shuddered, tugging at his hair with one hand and anchoring herself to the rock with the other.

He licked her again. "Is it only me, then, Emma?"

Emma's eyes flew open and she stared straight into his eyes. "You fucking possessive bastard. You are just like him," she accused.

"Tell me, Emma." Another lick, a short suck. "Tell me." He added another finger and sped up, just a touch. "Did you want him?"

"Fuck, yes, I wanted him. Badly. I wanted him to do this. But only because he was you, and I wanted you to do this to me from the moment I climbed that damn beanstalk. And never anyone else, ever again."

That seemed to be the right answer. Killian lifted her legs over his shoulders and slid into her, only to discover that this position was now far too deep when Emma winced. He mumbled apologies and moved her legs wide around his hips, cushioning her lower back on one of his hands to hold her steady. "The bairn takes up more space," he smiled. She nodded, oblivious to his sudden attention to her bump and shamelessly consumed with chasing her own release, because he had slipped his thumb back into position between them and was hitting every nerve ending at once. He watched her as she writhed on the rock with her head thrown back and her throat bared, her breasts bouncing and arched towards him. The baby was a solid being between them now, completely undeniable. He took in every detail, Emma panting his name and rocking her hips into him. Her thighs began to shake, and her open mouth let loose a high-pitched cry. Killian let himself focus on his own pleasure. He reached down to suck one heaving breast into his mouth as he thrust erratically into her tightness. She clutched his head to her chest, begging him to suck harder and come for her. He knew he would leave a bruise around her nipple, and pulled harder to ensure it. When she deliberately tightened her muscles around his cock, he came wordlessly, and continued kissing every inch of skin he could reach.

They both breathed through their recovery, until he slipped out and crawled to lie beside her on the warm rock, nuzzling into her hair and neck while she cuddled him closer to her body. "I missed you, too," she soothed, stroking his head, satisfied and calm and warm. His hands were roaming her body still, taking in the changes.

When he finally raised his head, he pulled back a few inches to look her over critically. "You've been eating, at least," he said in approval. "Your hips are curvier and I can't feel your ribs so sharply. And your nipples are darker, even more erotic." He ran his tongue over one, just to check. She laughed in genuine happiness, still taking in the fact that they had defeated Merlin's curse and she really had him back. "You are glowing, you're stunning, the most beautiful thing in this or any realm," he said into her belly. "Your mother is bloody incredible, little one." He began nibbling at her, pulling her on top of him, and she could feel him growing hard again beneath her.

"Oh hell, babe, are we going another round?" she laughed. Emma wriggled free of his arms and kissed his face, neck, and down his chest and abdomen. She got onto her knees beside him and finally leaned down to lick him back to full hardness. He growled and wrapped her damp hair around his bruised hand to hold her steady. She lifted her head briefly. "On the rock?"

"I'm good with the rock," he bit out as she sucked lightly at the tip of him.

"It was a bit hard on my back."

"Come here, love," he helped her to her feet in the soft earth of the meadow, then refolded his jacket and her dress and placed them directly in front of her on the flat granite. "Feel free to bend over the rock…"

"Mmm, such a gentleman," she giggled, laying her head on her arms, her belly clear of the rock. "Will this do, Captain?" He stood back as though to give her new positioning some serious thought.

"That should do perfectly."

"Look at us," she held up an iridescent hand for his inspection. "Not a tree in sight and we're still glowing like candles."

Killian skated his hands over her arse and positioned himself behind her. "Glowing like beacons, at least it's broad daylight and shouldn't alert anyone to our whereabouts." He sank into her and lowered his forehead to her spine, thrusting slowly and not as deep as usual to avoid hurting her. He set a slow, careful pace.

"Harder, Killian. You won't hurt me, oh my god, that is so good. You feel so good," she exhaled.

He sped up, but didn't entirely follow her exhortations. She gasped and moaned for him to take her harder, faster, but he kept his pace steady. Sliding easily, lazily, he worked her up. Her muscles clenched around him, but he'd had one release and controlled his reactions. When she tried to rock her hips back onto him, he grasped her hips to hold her still. He fully intended to take his time and savour every sensation. The sun was gentle and warm on them, and the only sounds he could hear beyond her moans was the soft swish of grass in the breeze. Her body felt soft and pliant under his fingers. He stroked his hands down to her inner thighs, petting her patiently, then teased her legs further apart, leaving a calloused finger on her clit. He immediately sank in deeper, and they both sighed in gratification.

"I thought I might never see you again, my love. I thought my life was going to end, watching you live out your life with him. And here you are, gods, and you feel so soft and wet and perfect." Emma started to whimper as he stroked her deeply, igniting a spot that sent her to her heights. She loved listening to him as his talk veered between declarations of love and filthy descriptions of how her walls felt on his cock as he drove into her over and over.

He kept it up, pace steady as a metronome, until she cried out and spasmed around him. He bit off his own completion until he was sure he'd thrust through her own. Her body relaxed around his and her head lay heavily on her folded arms, exhausted. He pulled up on her spread thighs as he felt her lose strength, and Emma felt him stretching her open. She knew he wanted to let himself go, to find his own satisfaction. He pounded into her hard and deep for half a dozen thrusts, until she felt him stutter and fall behind her. With her body relaxed and quiet and satisfied, she could feel every pulse as he came.

Her legs shook slightly, so Killian pulled out. She felt the warmth of his seed tickling her thighs and somehow it made her giggle with unsuppressed delight. He turned her to face him and couldn't help but chuckle along with her. He lifted her onto the rock and then lay down beside her with the last of his strength.

"Bloody hell, love," he hugged her tighter, pressing her cheek into his chest, and she grabbed hold of the charms around his neck. She held them so tight in her fist that the chain dug into his neck. "I'm not going anywhere, Swan," he reassured her. But he was gripping her hard enough to bruise at the same time.

"Just in case," she muttered.

He brushed her hair back from her face. "Are you truly all right, Swan? Completely well?"

She nodded. "You took good care of me. Made sure I was comfortable and slept well, bought me anything I needed, fed me regular meals."

She squirmed level with his face, and they both lay on their sides with their faces on his jacket and their noses nearly touching, breathing each other in.

"How did it work? I can't have known you…"

"You knew the stones, and that made you think that maybe my insane story was true. And then… well, you love me. I think perhaps we were just… fated. To love each other. Because you really weren't terribly loveable," he let out a harsh guffaw at the understatement, "and you really didn't trust my magic, and my story was pretty outlandish." She gave him a soft kiss. "And god help me but I loved even that version of you. When you weren't insulting me or trying to hold me prisoner or threatening to gut me like a fish and throw me overboard."

Killian groaned and hid his face in her hair. "Tell me I didn't do that."

Emma gave him a small smile. "Only at the very beginning, and I did appear in the immediate aftermath of a terrible battle." She sobered and gazed at his wary eyes. "You killed, and I mean tore open, so many men. I was soaked in blood - not my own – and you were dripping with it. Your hook, your clothing." She closed her eyes to call back the memory. "I've seen what must be some of the worst of what you've done. And I still loved you. Completely." When she opened her eyes, Killian was avoiding her gaze, looking over her bare shoulder at the horizon. "I get this True Love thing a bit more now. It's not just meet and date for a while and fall in love gradually."

"More like unpicking a lock and opening a door that's always been there," he agreed.

"That would be your analogy, pirate." She laughed.

"Well, you make it sound like it was easy," he huffed. "It wasn't easy."

"It still isn't?"

"Our love is easy enough, aye, but it attracts people who want to rip it apart. Much like your parents experienced, actually. If True Love is magic, it's also power, and the likes of Merlin and the Crocodile want a piece of it. To bottle it or break it."

"Merlin said it would be like splitting the atom… that creates a powerful explosion."

"I know what an atom is, Swan, and I understand the nuclear implications of splitting one. Google, remember?" He tapped one finger where his hand still rested over the baby, eliciting another tiny kick in response. "And this one will be powerful. She will attract her own dangers."

Emma went silent, thinking. "She stopped a battle for you. When she sensed a blade come too close to you, she could hear your voice, she somehow knew you were in danger, or she saw it through my eyes. I don't know. But she froze everyone apart from us."

"A-ha. Well, what had distracted me from the fight, eh? Must have been something," he said meaningfully, gazing at her breasts. Emma looked away, a bit guilty.

Killian whistled. "Precisely as I thought, you were waving your luscious chest in my face when I should have been fighting." He rubbed a little circle over their daughter. "Thank you, little love. For saving your Da from his own lack of attention."

Snuggling back against his chest, Emma let the charms of his necklace play through her fingers. "We should find my parents," she mumbled against him, with no real enthusiasm for that course of action. "Let them know I'm back."

He patted her thigh. "Just one more round, my love, then we'll find the lot of 'em."

…

Regina watched in the hall of mirrors as Emma melted away from Hook, and the villa disappeared into the sand, and Hook splashed deep into the ocean beside his ship. As his crew scattered into action to save their captain, Regina snapped her fingers and the mirrors instantly reflected only her own triumphant image back at her. Her smile faltered for a moment, when she remembered Robin back in Storybrooke, waiting for her to return, but came back stronger when she realised that Emma and Hook had succeeded decisively in Merlin's cruel test.

The wizard walked stoically into the hall, scowling, but there was none of the yelling that she might have expected. He sat down in the dead centre of the room, beneath the canopy of mirrors.

"Look, Merlin, love conquers all. Don't you just love a happy ending?" Regina laughed.

"I see no more use for you," he snarled. Regina immediately armed herself in response. Merlin laughed bitterly. "I can't kill you, and I should think it obvious that if I could, I would have done so already. I wanted to see your face when I regained my powers, but I find you tedious company." He turned his head to give her a condescending glare. "And what makes you think this is any sort of happy ending? Do I seem like someone who gives up so easily?"

He waved a hand and Regina vanished. Alone now, Merlin lay flat on the elaborate wooden floor, briefly seeing himself and the interlocking, geometric pattern reflected in the ceiling. Then he clapped loudly, and the mirrors all projected images of Emma at every age, from birth, to her discovery on the side of the road, to a toddlerhood of indifferent families and right up to the present, in which she lay tangled on a rock with the pirate.

The promised explosion, the lure of freedom, was worth any price. He had failed once, but Emma's life provided any number of tragic moments of weakness. He just needed to pick the right one, the one from which True Love could never bloom. He waved his hand and the images shifted, a new moment in Emma's life appearing in the mirror above him with every flick of his wrist. All he had to do was choose.

Please let me know what you think.