Fluff. All the fluff. Killian is very eager to use a video camera, but NOT in the way you think.

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"You want to do what?" Emma asked.

"Renew our wedding vows," Killian said. "Aboard the Jolly Roger."

"Mary Margaret's not going to be thrilled about the location," Emma pointed out. She hadn't nixed the idea though, which was a good sign. And Killian was adamant about doing things properly this time around.

He speared the last slice of grapefruit off his breakfast plate, pointing it at her decisively. "Your mother got the wedding she wanted to see, I think it's time we got the ceremony we want."

Emma's forehead crinkled adorably in confusion as she sipped her coffee. "I thought you liked what we ended up doing?"

"I loved marrying you. I loved seeing you walk down the aisle in that dress," Killian told her honestly. "I liked the music. I liked that everyone had a good time while it lasted. But that brings me to my next point, love. It was rushed. It needed to be, we agreed on that before the curse hit, but a wedding is not the sort of occasion that ought to be rushed, impending curses or otherwise."

"Well it wouldn't be 'us' without a curse of some kind," Emma said, rolling her eyes. They quickly narrowed in thought. "Rushing things like that really bothered you, didn't it?"

"More of a missed opportunity than a regret, love. Although the end result is most certainly not a regret." Killian quickly took her hand in his across the table, fingers running over the wedding band on her finger. When she shifted their hands to interlock their fingers and slipped him a smile, he continued. "But as there is currently no curse or villain or otherwise antagonistic force looming over our heads – with the exception perhaps, of your parent's absolute doldrums-pace moving out of their apartment – we now have the time to plan a ceremony of our design. And to that end, there's one thing I must insist on."

"Killian, we don't need to spend the nights before the wedding apart again. We're already married, can't we just sleep in the same bed like we do anyway?"

He quickly decided it would be more prudent to approach the topic of wedding traditions another time, and instead told Emma his true intentions. "A video camera."

"A video camera?"

Removing his hand from hers, Killian stood to bring his dishes to the sink. "The latest Dark Curse crashed down on us all before we could even eat our cake or finish taking all the photographs your father wanted. Now, the photographs we managed to recover after the curse are wonderful, but having seen videos on the picture box I'd like it if we had one of those of our wedding, or at least of us renewing our vows."

"Wow, Killian, that's… That's really sweet." Emma hid a smile behind her coffee. Her face had taken on that hopeful and scared look, the one that screamed with silent want but was too afraid to try and hold onto it for fear it would slip away like always.

Killian decided to fix that. "Of course the curse even erased your lovely dress. Which is the real tragedy here, if I'm being honest, considering I never got to take it off of you afterwards."

It worked, and Emma's smile grew as she shook her head. "Oh, sure, that's the real tragedy."

Killian grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. "That and how I never got to carry you over the threshold to our bed that night. And it's a bloody shame."

"I'll add it to the list of atrocities, Mr. Swan."

"You be sure to do that, Mrs. Jones." Killian leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've a video camera to inquire after."

One night, nine months later, found Killian stretched out on the sofa in his and Emma's home, the picture box flitting colorful images across it's screen.

The creator of the video and owner of the camera had a remarkably steady hand, Killian noted in appreciation not for the first time. The sea had been lively that day and Killian had feared the images would be shaky and un-viewable. But Belle's sea legs had surprised him and the end result was more breathtaking than Killian could have ever dreamed. He still wondered if magic was the source of the glow radiating from the display or whether it was his own love-struck bias draping a rosy gloss over the scenes.

Thoughts of magic and mentally-induced rosy glazes disappeared when Swan came into view. He could easily recall every lace detail of Emma's wedding gown; the sheerness of the top that allowed for tantalizing glimpses of skin beneath, the length of it and the surprising weight of it under his hand as they danced. He could do the same for the dress she wore as they renewed their vows; the sculpted dress of pale blue that reached her knees and left her shoulders temptingly bare. But to watch the scene unfold before him in such detail, every fold of fabric and escaped tress of hair captured in eternal unchanging glory-

Killian let out a content sigh. He would never tire of watching this video of his Swan float across the deck of the Jolly Roger to meet him at the stern.

Belle had employed Henry with an additional video camera and combined the images of both devices in such a way that Emma gliding down the deck took up half the screen while his own enamored face filled the rest. He had never seen his face from the outside like this, whilst looking amorously upon his Swan. There was an honesty there he'd never realized, a vulnerability and yet a strength. It was an enlightening sight, to be sure, but was nothing compared to Emma's smile on screen that grew with every step forward until it was toothy and true.

"I love watching your face when you watch that video," Emma's voice interrupted the sweetness of the recording and Killian whipped around to see her standing in the hall. At the beauteous sight of her he decided that the rosy gloss from before must certainly be a product of his love-addled imagination. Her mouth was quirked upward, pleased at the sight of some beautiful secret known only to her.

A similar grin stretched across Killian's face. "And I prefer watching your face in the video." He started to rise but Emma's legs carried her to him on the sofa and she curled into his side. "You were gone for some time," He said gently.

Killian easily slid one arm around her as Emma's arms wrapped around his waist. "I'm sorry I missed dinner," Emma said. Killian pretended not to notice how tired she sounded. She'd probably had her guard up all the way home. "You worked so hard on it and I was really looking forward to it. The house smells delicious."

"I'm told this is what refrigerators are for," Killian said. "We can reheat the bird in the oven, if you're hungry? Or perhaps save it for tomorrow with the pie. I trust all's well again in Storybrooke now that Sheriff Swan has had her hand in things?"

Emma nodded against his shoulder. "Just tired. Used more magic than I thought I'd have to."

"I didn't realize Regina would need so much help putting away a drunk. I'd have come as well."

"A drunk magic user," Emma corrected him, rambling now. "And a total featherweight with his liqueur. Stupid drunk spells. From Oz, or Agrabah? Arendelle? Somewhere with a vowel."

Killian hummed in acknowledgment.

On screen, Killian and Emma had just said their 'I do's' and were locked in a passionate kiss, to the applause of their loved ones. A flock of birds flew overhead, cawing at the crowd below, to the delight of everyone on board.

"Like this part," Emma whispered, curling tighter against him on the sofa.

"Aye," Killian agreed. "Me too."

Their on-screen counterparts whispered to each other, too quietly for Belle's camera to pick up, but Killian didn't need the technology to remember what was said.

'Let's go home, Killian," Emma-onscreen said.

"As you wish," Killian whispered in time with his onscreen counterpart.

Emma's only response was to tighten her hands in his shirt.