Here's a bit of Deckhand Killian helping Emma find her new outfit on the Jolly in the finale. (Missing Scene/Canon Divergence)

"Can I ask you a question? You trusted me with your life just now, why?

"It's complicated, might take a while."

"My schedule's pretty clear."

"Okay…let's first work on your fighting skills. Then we've got to help Regina stop that wedding."

Wedding? Regina? He has no bloody idea what this beautiful siren is speaking of, but there's a pull deep in his belly telling him that none of that matters, the only thing of importance being her and what she apparently needs of him. Since the moment she crashed against him in that tower, her green eyes looking up at him as though she was seeing heaven itself, her body warm as she pressed fully against him, he's felt for the first time as though his life may just have a purpose after all.

"As you wish, milady."

They're close enough that he can see the flecks of blue amidst the jade of her eyes as she looks upon him and he can't be sure if it's the rocking of the boat or a purposeful act, but she's suddenly swaying towards him. Her gaze has moved to his lips and everything around him begins to dissolve in a haze where she is the only thing in clear focus. When his hand still holding his flask between them brushes lightly against her breast he freezes, the beaded material of her dress tickling his skin for a moment before he pulls back, his ears burning from the blush brought on by such an intimate contact.

"Apologies, lass, I didn't mean…"

Her hand on his chest stops his rambling and he looks up at her, her soft smile and slight blush so add odds with the fierce woman who just taught him to slay a dragon that he can't help but feel a bit off balance.

"Do you think there might be something on board that I can change in to, pants perhaps?"

"Aye, we've had a few female crew members over the years. There should be some leftover clothes down below. I can show you?"

"I'd like that."

"Hey, everything okay up here?"

Emma's hand falls from his chest at the sound of her boy's voice, the loss of her touch breaking the spell that has fallen around them and he turns from her, in need of a moment to clear his throat and adjust his leathers. The helm provides a brief relief as he presses against it with his hips, pretending to focus on setting their course at the wheel as Emma's crosses to Henry to fill him in on the adventure he missed while down below. Cursing himself as he tries to calm his arousal, something usually reserved for the overly attentive tavern wenches his crewmates like to torture him with, never finding the courage to bed any of them no matter how willing they appear to be. Now, as he watches Emma from over the helm, he can't help but think that the most lurid of couplings with those other women would undoubtedly pale in comparison to a mere kiss from her glorious lips.

"Killian, Henry will keep an eye on things up here. Can you show me where those clothes are?"

Henry is at his side in a flash, reaching out for the wheel with excitement in his eyes.

"Keep her steady, lad. You see that port in the distance? That's where we're headed. Your mother and I will be right back."

"Aye, Captain!"

Killian feels the pull to correct the boy, but Henry's already turned to the wheel and Emma is waiting for him by the hatch that leads below, so he simply shrugs his shoulders and crosses to meet her.

"After you…."

She smiles again and his stomach does a turn, his pull towards her growing stronger every time she looks at him like that, making him want things he never dreamed he could have. He's so lost in thought that he nearly collides with her when she comes to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, the wood of the Jolly gaining another gouge as he anchors his hook in her to gain his balance.

"Which way? It's been a while…"

"Wait, you've been aboard the Jolly before?"

"Ah, yeah…I told you, it's complicated."

His mind is racing with thoughts of her being on board before with Blackbeard, stinging jealousy wrapping around him like a kraken's tentacles.

"Killian? What's wrong?"

He takes a deep breath and straightens his back, refusing to look in her the eye as his emotions continue to spiral out of control. Turning, he moves down the hallway towards the chest outside of the captain's quarters where he knows the clothes are stored, needing to be free of her presence before he makes a bigger fool of himself.

"Nothing lass, simply wasn't aware you were so acquainted with the Captain."

The feel of her hand on his elbow stops him and he closes his eyes, knowing if he turns to face her he will reveal himself as the lovestruck fool he is, an idiot caught up in the ridiculous fantasy of a more fulfilling life than the one he leads.

"I thought Henry explained?"

"Explained what?"

"Who the true Captain of this vessel is."

Getting you your ship back…

Her meaning hits him like an anchor to his chest, daring to believe that the lad had spoken true and in this other reality he really is a Captain, and Emma, might actually be acquainted with him. When he feels the loss of her hand he turns, desperate suddenly to see her expression and hopefully find some truth in this madness somewhere in her eyes.

"Blackbeard?"

She takes a step closer and he can't help but hold his breath as he waits for her response, feeling as though he is standing on a precipice wherein she lies on the other side just barely out of reach.

"No."

Daring himself, he closes the distance between them until she is merely a breath away, her gaze locked with his as her breasts brush against his chest as she breathes heavily between them.

"Who, then?

Her small hand wraps around his hook at his side and lifts it to her chest, holding his arm between their bodies and the cold steel against her heart.

"Captain Hook."

She speaks the words with the hint of a challenge in her voice; as if she is daring him to be this other man instead of the coward he has always known. Looking in her eyes and seeing the hope there, the belief in him and all that he can be, he wonders if he just might have the courage to finally fight for what he wants.

"This Captain Hook, what is he like?"

"When we get to port, I'll try to show you."

His body feels like a sail caught in a strong wind, taught and strong, energized for what lies ahead in this grand adventure Emma has set before him.

"Well, love, let's find you those clothes so this training can commence, posthaste."

He steps back from her and she stumbles forward, his hook still in her hand having pulled her towards him during his retreat. She releases her grip, somewhat reluctantly by the look on her face, and makes to straighten her skirts with her hands as a blush tinges her cheeks.

"I bet you're more used to helping women out of their pants, not into them?"

He's confused as to her meaning at first and then realization sets in, setting his ears aflame as he turns from her to lead them down the hallway, his methods of flirtation rusty at best.

"Uh, I suppose so…"

Groaning inwardly at the chuckle he hears from behind him, he picks up the pace to the chest, relief escaping him on a sigh when he reaches it and pries open the wooden lid.

"Give me a moment and I'll attempt to find something worthy of you."

"Anything will do, as long as there's no corset. Those things are torture."

"You're discomfort is a cross I'd be willing to bear."

"What?"

Eyes wide in shock, he looks over his shoulder at her, mortified at what he has spoken aloud, preparing to attempt to make amends for his wicked tongue.

"Apologies, Emma, that was bad form, indeed."

She's smiling at him, perplexing considering his transgression, and he begins to feel off-kilter again, as if he is somehow missing the punchline of a joke he knows he's heard before, but simply cannot recall.

"No, it's fine…you, it's just…forget it, too hard to explain."

Convinced that being confined in this small space with her is doing a number on his already addled brain, he diverts his attention back to the chest to find her appropriate attire; the sooner he gets back into the fresh air above undoubtedly better for them both. Spying the deep blue leather vest near the bottom of the chest, he rummages until he finds pants to match and the finest shirt of the bunch, hoping the sizes will be close enough for Emma's comfort.

Her hands brush his as she steps to his side to take the clothes from him and he feels a jolt of something akin to longing pass through his veins. The look she's sending his way seems to hold a similar sentiment and he grips the chest to stop himself from rising to his feet and sweeping her into his arms.

"Thanks, I'll, uh…just go and change. I'll see you back on deck?"

She's turns and disappears into an open cabin before he finds his voice to respond, probably a good thing considering what he was contemplating doing just moments before. Pushing the lid of the trunk closed, he turns and leans against it for a moment, rubbing his eyes with his hand until white spots replace the visions of Emma stripping down naked just mere steps away. The dress, with all its fabric and billowing skirts, did little to mask her obviously trim form and his imaginings of her creamy skin on display as she changes has him hardening again at the thought. He's still there, fighting to regain his control with his hand still over his face when he hears shuffling behind the door in which she disappeared, prompting him to make haste back down the hallway and back on deck before she emerges and catches him in this state.

Henry's still at the wheel, having navigated them quite masterfully towards the port, pride at the young lad's obvious sailing prowess blossoming in his chest.

"Well done, lad."

"I learned from the best."

He's about to say something to the boy in return when the hatch from below opens and Emma climbs on deck, stealing his breath and tying his tongue into an expert sailor's knot. The leather of her vest is like a second skin, tight across her waist and falling to the middle of her hips, which are on delicious display thanks to the rather snug fit of her pants. He can't remember those clothes looking quite as sinful on the previous owner, but perhaps it just took the right woman wearing them for him to notice. She winks at him across the deck before turning her back and lifting her arms to gather her hair, the rise of her vest at the motion revealing the full curve of her firm backside, and he can't help but think that she is teasing him on purpose. Feeling the need to hide his growing reaction to this woman behind the helm yet again, he turns to Henry and barks out an order that seems appropriate for a first mate to abide, sliding behind the wheel as soon as the lad has vacated the spot.

As he watches Emma and her son move about the deck, working the lines in preparation for docking, he allows himself a moment to imagine what his life would be if this was his reality. A beautiful and powerful woman by his side and a son, eager to learn and possibly look to him as a father, all sailing the seas together in search of adventure. It's a dream for him, yes, but perhaps there is another reality where dreams really do come true…