Killian Jones woke with a start.

He seemed to be on his couch in his and Emma's white picket fence house. For a few moments, he kept his eyes shut and analyzed his situation. He didn't hear anything, and he didn't smell anything burning.

Then he felt the warm weight against his chest, moving slowly up and down with breaths in tune with his own, and the little hand that seemed to be curled around his knee, and he remembered why he was sleeping on his admittedly comfortable couch instead of in his really bloody comfortable bed.

Emma's parents had approached him the day before, a bit sheepishly, and asked if he and Emma could watch Neal while they went on a date. Emma, who'd been standing a few feet away cooing at Alexandra in Sean's arms, had whirled around and said, "I thought you had someone to watch him?"

Snow had flushed very slightly. "I may have lied. I thought that Robin and Regina would be able to take him, but it turns out they're also having a date night and Granny doesn't want to have to deal with Roland, Audrey, and Neal all at once."

"Could you take my son off my hands for one evening, Killian?" David had asked, cutting his wife off from her tirade that, to Killian's amusement, would probably have continued until Emma agreed to babysit her brother.

Killian had glanced at Emma to find her eyes begging him not to accept, but honestly, the lad wasn't much trouble – Emma's magic was more than enough to handle the lad's growing abilities – and he, according to David, absolutely adored sleeping. So Killian had, wincing at the oncoming too-tight grip on his bicep from his beloved fiancée, agreed.

The squeeze was more of a pinch, he had had to admit as he rubbed at his arm and grinned as Emma leaned over to grab Neal from David. She'd turned back with a smile that promised more retribution – she had implied earlier that morning that she meant for the two of them to spend the evening in bed doing "Netflix and chill", which by her tone and sultry smirk was something he would approve of – but he had just leaned over the squirming and occasionally sparking two year old to kiss her soundly.

One catcall from Ruby and infinite thanks from David and Mary Margaret later, they were watching their brother and soon-to-be brother-in-law making fireworks on the ceiling, Emma reaching out her hand to extinguish the occasional flame and Killian resting his chin on her head and watching the child's light show. He'd fallen asleep after an hour of pretty lights, random shouts for "Henwy" or "Killy," and occasional animal crackers, leaving Emma to pick him up, cradle him in her arms like he was still a few months old, and pull Killian over to the couch with her to watch whatever show she was obsessed with now.

Flash forward about five hours. Then Killian finally heard the noise that had woken him up. Whispers were coming from the kitchen, very soft, like they were trying to rob the house. Killian had a slightly higher opinion of robbers, however, and listened for the tell-tale sounds that would assure him that the voices belonged to Snow and Charming.

"Where are they?" David asked, his voice rising just a little. Killian let out a slight exhale in relief. Snow, judging by the footsteps, walked up to the back of the couch and peered over.

"David, look," she said, her voice very nearly trembling. Killian knew the sight she saw – Killian leaning back against the couch, Emma curled into his side, his left arm around her shoulders with the hook removed, and Neal sprawled across their laps, their hands holding him in place as well as they could – was adorable, but he was just enough of an eavesdropping pirate to not open his eyes and see the princess' face.

"Aww, they're adorable," David said drily. He was standing in front of them, probably right next to Snow. "Let me grab my son and we can be off."

Neal made a squeaking sleepy noise and a very brief flash of light as David extricated him from their little pile. Emma made a noise of protest and probably tried to reach out for her brother, but didn't wake up. She grunted softly and curled herself further into Killian's side, her hand wandering up his stomach and chest to rest on his heart, pressing just hard enough to feel the thump of his heartbeat.

There was silence. Killian decided that the Charmings were just looking down at them. He waited for them to leave or to start a hope speech to their apparently sleeping children.

"You know," David mused quietly. "I really didn't like him at first."

"Nor did I," Mary Margaret agreed.

"He was arrogant and flirtatious and a pirate and too aware of his own attractiveness."

"I know," Mary Margaret said as she probably rocked Neal, who was starting to fuss a little bit. "But he's changed so much."

David sighed. "For her. I can't believe I'm saying it, but they're perfect for each other."

Mary Margaret giggled. "I saw that the first day at the beanstalk," she admitted. "It was terrible. The infamous Captain Hook and the woman I'd just found out was our baby. And they complemented each other perfectly, even then."

"They're like us," David said. "Helping the other in weakness and always fighting by the other's side. Always encouraging and waiting and… finding each other." Judging by the slight tightness and wonder in Dave's voice, it was surprising even the prince that he was saying such things.

Brief silence. Mary Margaret probably kissed her husband on the cheek, and then Killian heard footsteps move around the couch. Killian was almost drifting back to sleep when he felt the blanket he most preferred being tucked around him and Emma. Emma let out a soft groan of contentment and pushed her nose into Killian's collarbone and Killian couldn't help but flex his arm just enough to pull her just a little farther in.

Silence again. Then David said in slightly choked wonder, "She loves him so much."

"She does," Mary Margaret echoed.

"And I wish it hadn't taken us so long to figure it out," David said, his voice growing quieter. Killian felt another presence getting closer, then felt more than heard Mary Margaret kiss Emma on the temple. There was a slight pause, and then she pushed his bangs away and kissed him lightly on the forehead, like a mother to her child. "Thank you, Killian," Mary Margaret whispered. "For loving Emma so much, and for bringing her home so many times."

Then Killian heard both sets of footsteps retreat, back to the door, and he heard it lock behind them. He looked down at the woman he loved so much more than anything else in the world, and couldn't help smiling. And then he closed his eyes, and fell asleep once more.