Well, lovelies, here we are, part the 7th (and the last). A mini-epilogue will be posted tomorrow (Tuesday) or Wednesday. Many a heart felt thank you will be posted with that.


She stayed.

Liam was in the house, Robin had crashed downstairs, and Emma had stayed. In his bed. Despite the fact it was still dark outside and Emma was burrowed next to him breathing softly and evenly, Killian wanted to shout in delight. Instead, he contented himself with tracing nonsense into her belly, enjoying the warmth of her skin under his fingers and the breathy sighs she gave as his hand wandered.

He knew she'd been avoiding him and the question he hadn't quite fully articulated the weekend prior. At the very least she was using Liam's presence as a means of avoiding the topic. But she had asked him to ask her again, to find a moment to not doused in alcohol and not surrounded by others to tell her what it was he wanted and to ask her if she wanted the same.

And god how he wanted. He wanted to kiss her in full view of their friends. He wanted to take her hand, touch her face, and skim his hand along her back all while not caring who saw. He wanted to take her on a date and call it what it was. He wanted to come home each night and find her stuff strewn all about his house – and not just her shoes and hair ties and sweaters. He wanted her sheets on his bed, her clothes in his closet, and her framed photographs mixed among his on the walls lining the hall and above the fireplace mantel.

His hand stilled at that last thought, his palm over the slight swell of her belly while his fingers grazed her hipbone. He wondered, and not for the first time, when everything had shifted for him and how it was he hadn't noticed. Liam's words from earlier that night echoed in his head.

"Stop trying to fool yourself, little brother."

"Pardon?"

Liam rolled his eyes and leaned his back against the deck railing.

"It's not what you think," Killian said, taking a long drink of his beer as he kept his eyes on the bay below them.

Liam's brow wrinkled and the look he shot him dripped in disbelief. "You're not seeing Emma and keeping it from me?"

"No," he answered, picking at the edges of the label of his beer bottle.

"And why the bloody hell not? You've seen the woman and the way she looks at you, have you not?"

"I don't know if it's what she wants. If I'm –"

"Don't," Liam warned, slamming his bottle down on the railing. "Don't even try to give me the she's too good for me script you've allowed to run through your head."

Killian was pulled from his thoughts as Emma shifted onto her back and his hand slipped to her hip. He returned to tracing patterns on her skin, his fingers playing along her hipbone and down her thigh. The blankets had bunched when she turned, pulling them down and exposing her breasts to him. He ghosted his hand over her center and itched to dip his head down and wrap his lips around one of her nipples, wanting to feel it tighten and warm beneath his tongue as he did. His cocked stirred in interest at the thought of waking her with his fingers caressing along the edges of her folds, teasing between them and pushing inside. He took a steadying breath instead, settling his hand back over her hip and closing his eyes. He kissed her temple after a moment and let himself drift back to sleep.


Light was trickling in from beneath the shades when Killian woke next. He stretched and tried to ignore the swoop of disappointment at finding Emma gone. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and spent a few minutes idling through his email and Instagram feed. Hearing shuffling out in the hall, he slipped from bed and pulled a pair of sleep pants from his dresser.

"Emma?" he called as he made his way down the hall.

"It's only me," Liam answered.

Killian swiped his hand through his hair and turned the corner to find Liam spread across the couch, a mug raised to his lips. Killian nudged his feet off the end and settled down next to him.

"There's tea," Liam said after a moment.

He grunted but let his head fall against the back of the couch. He wasn't sure how long they sat in silence before Liam put his mug on the coffee table and said, "She slipped out a little while ago."

"Pardon?"

"Emma." He opened an eye to find Liam tapping his thumb against his knee.

Killian sat up. "She left?"

Liam rubbed at the back of his neck. "I may have been awake when she left your room this morning."

Killian groaned. "What did you say to her?"

"Nothing, I swear," he replied, raising his hands in supplication.

"I'm not fucking around, Liam," he warned.

Liam frowned. "She seemed a bit wary when she found me out here this morning. I wanted to put her at ease, so I gave her a hug and told her I was happy, for you both. That you two were exactly what the other needed. I didn't anticipate it would cause her to bolt."

He swore under his breath. "I told you not to meddle."

"I wasn't –"

Killian cut him off with a stare and headed to his room.


He tried calling her twice as he pulled on some clothes, but her phone kept sending him directly to her voicemail. He barely managed to pull on a scarf in addition to his coat as he grabbed his keys from the table by the door. He threw his car into reverse and took off without being entirely sure where he was heading.

Reaching the end of the street, he took the chance that she hadn't started back to Portland and made a right turn towards David and Mary Margaret's place. When he turned down their street and caught the yellow flash of her bug parked in front of their house, he let out a long, steadying breath. Whatever she had read into Liam's words, it hadn't been bad enough to cause her to go somewhere it would take him hours to follow. He'd take whatever comfort he could from that.

He pulled up behind her car and killed the engine before tightening his scarf and zipping his coat closed. As he walked towards the front door, he found a set of fresh footprints in the snow that wound towards the backyard. He followed and found Emma sitting on one of the too small swings, listlessly swaying with one toe on the ground beneath her.

She didn't look up when he stopped just outside the swing's perimeter, but her foot flexed and she switched her balance to the ball of her foot.

"Your boots aren't tied."

Killian looked down and found his laces dragging along the snow, leaving a snaking pattern in their wake.

"I was in a hurry," he said with a shrug. "Why aren't you inside?"

"Didn't want to wake them."

He reached out and wrapped a hand around one of the swing's chains. It felt bitterly cold against his bare skin and he wished he had remembered to grab a pair of gloves on his way out. "You'd rather give Mary Margaret a fright when she looks out her kitchen window while filling her tea kettle?" he asked, pulling her to a stop.

She shrugged. "Felt good out here."

"It's barely above freezing, love, that can't possibly be true," he whispered, wrapping his hands over hers where they curled around each of the chains. He worked her hands open and twined her fingers between his own. "Do you want to talk about what it was Liam said?"

Emma sighed and her head fell forward, resting against his chest. "It's not Liam."

Killian squeezed her hands as he bent his head to kiss the top of hers. "Then why are you all the way out here and not curled up on my couch, nursing your first cup of coffee?"

Emma shifted back to look up at him, her eyes scanning his as she chewed on her lip. "I can't…" she trailed off.

Killian felt his heart falter. "Can't what, Emma?" he asked, trying to keep his rising panic out of his voice. When she didn't answer him, he swallowed and pressed on. "You can tell me anything, you know that right?"

She nodded once but still kept silent.

He let one of her hands go and took a step back. "Follow me," he said with a small tug to the hand he still held. When she stood, he gave her a smile and pulled her towards the front of the house. As they reached the cars, he stopped them and moved his hands to her waist, nudging her up on the trunk of his car. She gave him a look but followed his request, watching him as he scrambled up behind her and perched himself next to her.

She sank against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

"It's not Liam," she repeated, "or what he said, not really."

Killian nodded and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her into his lap, partly to ward off the cold and partly to bring her as close as he could manage.

"I just, I don't know, suddenly realized how in deep I was and how much I stood to lose. You. Liam. Tink. Mary Margaret's group dinners. I was alone for so long." Her voice broke and she paused, taking a deep breath. He squeezed her and swayed a little, hoping to encourage her to continue. "I don't know how it was all of you managed to put up with me long enough for me to let down my guard."

He smiled and press a kiss to the back of her ear. "You're easy to love, Emma. Despite what you may think."

It was her shuddering breath that made him to realize exactly what it was he said. He squeezed her tighter and was working to find a means to soften the words when she spoke instead.

"I won't come back from this, if –" she stuttered. "The Swans. Neal leaving me to face everything alone. Walsh's lies. August's disregard. I like to think I survived all of that. But you –" She paused and shifted in order to look at him. "If I lost you, I don't think I come back from that."

His eyebrows knit together. "Emma," he whispered, moving a hand up to cup her jaw. "You are the strongest person I know. There isn't anything I can imagine that would truly break you." He thumbed at the dent in her chin. "But you can't possibly lose me," he continued as he inched his lips towards hers. He stopped with only a hair's breadth between them. "I'm right where I want to be. Where I've wanted to be. And I should have said as much long before now."

A tear rolled down her cheek and he swiped his thumb along her cheek to wipe it away as he closed the last bit of distance between them. He meant for it to be a soft, gentle thing, but her lips were insistent and her hand was curling around his neck and pulling him closer. He pressed his advantage and swept his tongue past her lips and into her mouth, caressing and twining her tongue with his own. He tried to slow it down after a few moments, moving his free hand to her other cheek and holding her still so that he could tell her how much he wanted her here with him with each nip at her lips and every slide of his tongue with hers.

He broke away only when he felt her shiver with the cold. When Emma finally opened her eyes, he found they still shone with tears, but her smile was a radiant, beautiful thing he wished he could photograph and keep with him always.

He leant in and nudged his nose against hers. "Come home with me, love. There'll be a pot of coffee on and an idiot brother who needs a slap upside the head. Besides, I'd like to wrap you up in a heap of blankets and tell you of all the ways I'd like to wake up and find you lying next to me."

Emma's smile widened and she shuffled off the trunk of his car and pulled him to follow her. "Sounds perfect," she said against his lips as she pressed him into the side of his car, using the moment to steal one more kiss before walking to her car.

Killian slipped into his car and waited as she warmed hers enough to make the drive back home, positioning the air vent blow heat at full blast directly in his face. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Liam as he did.

There better be a pot of coffee brewed by the time we get back.

Anything for you, baby brother.

Killian scoffed and took a picture of his two proffered fingers, firing that off as his response as Emma pulled away from the curb.


Robin was awake by the time they arrived back at the house. If Liam had told him anything of what transpired earlier, he didn't betray it as Emma trailed in after Killian, swapping her wet jeans for a pair of his sweats before joining them in the kitchen.

Killian watched as Liam passed Emma a steaming mug of coffee mixed with the ridiculous amount of cream and sugar she preferred and then wrapped his arm around her shoulder as she took her first sip. The smile that twitched at Emma's lips as she sank into his hug was one of Killian's favorites – a relaxed, pleased little thing that spoke of a hint of contentedness. If he had the means, Killian thought he might like to slip this moment into his pocket, save it for a day when he needed it.

When they eventually moved to the living room to sprawl out on the couches and nurse their hangovers with eggs and a movie marathon, Killian nearly burst when Emma curled up with him, pulling two duvets over them as she settled against his chest.

Robin shot him a look while Emma was focused on scrolling through the on demand menu. Killian merely grinned and planted a kiss to the top of her head as she and Liam argued the merits of Ronin versus The Thomas Crown Affair for their first movie.

As the prologue rolled past and faded into views of Paris, Emma slipped her hand into Killian's, threading their fingers together and settling them on top of the duvets. He could feel his heartbeat speed up a bit as her thumb swept over the top his hand and he left a soft kiss to the back of her ear.

This was the moment, he decided as his lips still grazing her skin. As lovely as the one in the kitchen had been, it was this one he'd cherish most - Emma Swan in his arms, warm, affectionate, and unafraid to be there in full view of two of the people who mattered most to him.