I couldn't stop thinking about that script tease and the knowledge that Emma and Killian have spoken so much about their pasts. I wrote my headcanon about them learning about one another in the happy 6 weeks in an earlier chapter, so here's a bit of a continuation…another story shared.

Closing a laptop with your feet is a bit harder than she would have imagined. Thankfully, her boots are on the floor, giving her the use of her toes to push down the screen with as little movement as possible. Not wanting to wake the pirate currently snoring softly against her ear, she finally manages her task, hoping if one of them kicks it during the night at least being closed it will fare a better chance of not breaking. There's little doubt in her mind that she'd have trouble finding anyone in Storybrooke with the faintest knowledge of laptop repair.

She'd seen the dark circles under Killian's eyes earlier, could see sleep had been eluding him of late even if he hadn't spoken of it. They both have demons, loved ones lost and bad choices made, all perfect ingredients for the subconscious to create nightmares where waking is the only escape. Shifting on the pillow to look at him now, she hopes he is dreaming of happier things, perhaps of sailing the open seas or well…maybe of her.

Not often having the opportunity to appreciate his perfectly sculpted face without prompting a saucy response or knowing look in return, she takes this opportunity openly stare. She notes the lack of worry lines as she brushes his hair from his forehead, the ruddy blush to his cheeks and the slight upturn of his lips in what could be called a smile. He is well and truly out, not even stirring as she curls her hand lightly around his neck and nestles deeper next to him on the pillow. She allows one last look at his long lashes and his full lower lip before reluctantly closing her own eyes, finally giving in to the gentle pull of slumber by his side.

/

On any other morning, being woken from such a blissful dream would have set off his temper, but not today. The swell of the tide beneath his feet and the warmth of the sun beating down on his chest, as perfect as that felt, neither compare to waking in the arms of the woman he loves. He only hopes the rapid beating of his heart doesn't stir her, seeing as her hand somehow found its way beneath his shirt and is currently pressed distractedly against the bare skin of his chest. Allowing himself one indulgence, he curls his hand further around her hip, his fingers finding and pressing against the soft skin of her lower back. It's only the biting of the inside of his cheek that stops the groan as her thigh shifts, finally settling against where he's already half aroused. Having her here like this, it's all he's ever wanted and bloody torture at the same time, torture he'd succumb to willingly any time she were to ask.

With his eyes clenched tight, he desperately tries to think of anything, anything other than how he wishes he could roll them, press her into the mattress and wake her with his lips on her skin and his hand…

"Good morning."

Her face is still pressed into the pillow, but her eyes are open, his smile being met with a sleepy one of her own. He should really tell her how beautiful she looks, but he can't seem to find his voice, perhaps due to the fact that his heart is currently lodged in his throat. Leaning forward, he captures her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, eventually pulling back just enough to stay nose to nose with her against the pillow.

She blushes as she extricates her hand from inside his shirt, his protest at that action dying on his lips as her fingers come to rest along his cheek. The movement of her thumb beneath his eye is so tender, as is the expression on her face as she seems to be giving his face a thorough once over.

"You look like you slept well."

Pulling her body closer with his hand at her back, their legs tangle beneath the covers as he answers, "Aye, better than I have all week."

"No nightmares, then?"

Of course she would have known, somehow sensed he'd been troubled, unsettled by unpleasant memories coming to him in his sleep. Living as long as he has and losing so much, nightmares had become a steadfast companion, usually chased away by his rum or the morning tide. He really shouldn't be surprised that Emma would find a way to keep them at bay as well. She was his savior, after all.

"Only happy dreams, love, made even more joyous upon waking with you in my arms."

Embarrassment has her leaning further into the pillow, his Swan still not quite capable of dealing with his directness when speaking of his affection. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to her forehead and another to the tip of her nose.

"I've heard tales of people lighting candles at night to keep the nightmares away, but I'd say you make a more alluring dreamcatcher."

It's impossible for him to miss how her body suddenly tenses and he can feel the panic begin to rise in his chest, knowing something he has said was apparently very, very wrong. Leaning back again so he can see her eyes, he cringes at the sight of hers clenched shut and the slow retreat of her hand from his cheek.

"Emma, love, what is it?"

Her hand falls to his chest, but she doesn't pull away further, instead feeling her fingers grip his collar as she slowly opens her eyes. He can see the beginnings of tears swimming there, but stubborn as she is, she is not letting them fall.

"Sorry, it's just…. Neal gave me a dreamcatcher once, or we found one and he said I should keep it. It wasn't a candle though, it's, well…hard to explain. I'll show you a picture later.."

Her words trail off and he watches as her eyes fall to her hand, staring intently at her fingers holding on to his shirt.

"Sorry, this isn't a good memory for me, after everything…"

Rolling to his back, he pulls her with him until she's tucked beneath his chin, holding her just a bit tighter when he feels her release a heavy breath against his throat. Slowly, he runs his hand along her spine and lets the silence fall, giving her time to come back to him when she's ready, feeling steady in the knowledge that she will.

It's not long, less than a minute really, when she pulls back enough to whisper, "I like the memories I'm making with you."