A/N: This suddenly became a five-shot. I'd apologize but we both know I don't really mean it. Reviews and cookies make me happy!

Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my world. Just my imagination borrowing them for a bit.

Killian woke to the sounds of shouting and stamping feet running across the decks above him. They were about to make port, he knew, recognising the familiar noises of a ship preparing to dock. He looked down at Emma who was still asleep on his chest and smiled. If not for the absolute terror he felt at executing their only plan or for the headache that pounded steadily against the inside of his skull, it wasn't a bad situation to be in. She sighed softly in her sleep, and he couldn't help the swelling of his heart as he watched her. Is this even real? he wondered. It wasn't every day that a princess like her cuddled up to sleep beside a boy like him.

He wanted to let her sleep, he wanted to be asleep himself, but he had to get up and return to work. This was it, the moment they would make their move, and he needed to make sure everything was prepared.

"Emma," he said quietly, gently nudging her shoulder. "Wake up, love. We're almost there."

She blinked open her eyes and stretched slowly, leaning back to sit on her own. He felt the chill in the air without her warmth pressed against him.

"What time is it?" she asked, rubbing her eyes with one hand.

"I'd estimate just past dawn." He twisted his neck to get out whatever kinks had developed overnight and then slowly hauled himself to his feet, pulse hammering at his temple.

He stretched out his hand to her and she grasped it tightly, pulling herself up until she stood in front of him, her body flush with his. He didn't want to move, didn't want to return to his duties, as he stood with her, her bright emerald eyes watching his, his hand still holding her fingers tightly, the gossamer feeling of something unspoken hovering in the short space between them.

The ship lurched suddenly, throwing her into him, breaking whatever spell he was surely under. She blushed as she peeled herself out of his arms.

"I should go up and get ready," he said with a cough, certain his face and ears were just as pink.

"Yeah," she agreed softly, turning away from him. "I'll go back in hiding in the meanwhile."

He started up the ladder, then turned back to watch her, blonde hair positively glowing in the thin streams of sunlight from above. "I'll be back soon," he said quietly. Emma smiled back at him and then she was gone, tucked behind the row of barrels against the bulkhead.

He left the hold.

Killian soon found himself busy with the routine of a ship making port, handing out commands to those under him and making sure they were followed through. He did stop in to see his brother, flashing him a grin as Liam was engrossed in conversation with the quartermaster. He also managed to slip away and deposit a spare set of clothing in the hold, though he didn't see Emma in the few moments he was there.

At the dock, he was surprised by the number of soldiers waiting for them in the small port town. A twist of fear clenched in his chest, and he prayed once more that the plan should work. Liam met him on deck as the crew tied off the last of the ropes to the dock posts and slid the gangway into place. Killian grasped the medium sized crate he held in his hands tightly to hide the trembling of his fingers.

Liam disembarked first and made his way to the Captain of the Guard, who was standing at attention on the pier. He was soon engrossed in conversation, something Killian wished desperately he could overhear. It was hard enough trusting that Emma was where she needed to be, he couldn't stand how many things could go wrong so quickly before they could even get off the ship.

His brother turned just then, signaling to Killian that it was time to go. He turned back to the crew still aboard the ship and gave instructions to the Master at Arms to remove all cargo to the loading docks, and motioned for the nearest midshipman to grab the parcels resting against the bulkhead and come with him.

Leaving the ship in the Master's capable hands, he and the midshipman crossed the gangway to the wagon Liam had procured for their trip. They loaded the crate and packages into the bed and climbed aboard, Killian at the reins with his brother beside him, the junior officer tucked into the back, and soon they were off.

"You told them specifically about the package we were carrying?" Killian asked as they left the quayside.

"Yes, Killian," was Liam's reply, his eyes darting in every direction while trying not to act suspicious to anyone who may have been watching.

"And they saw us load the box in the back?" he asked nervously.

"Yes, Killian." Liam turned on the bench to face him. "Calm down, brother," he said, his hand on Killian's shoulder. "Everything is going as it should."

Killian nodded, but didn't take his eyes off the road. The sooner they got out of town, the better. The pain is his head was little more than a dull throb over the sick flutter of fear in his belly. Almost, we're almost out.

The moment they left the town gates, he could feel himself relaxing somewhat, his white-knuckled grip on the reins loosening to a more comfortable grasp. He risked a look over his shoulder.

"Everything all right back there?" he asked.

"Aye aye, Lieutenant," Emma said as she sat up. She pulled off the blue cocked hat, allowing her golden hair to spill down her back. "How far do you think we have to get before ditching the wagon?" she asked, tugging her cloak from one of the packages in the back.

Killian glanced at Liam "Another hour, you think?"

Liam didn't respond.

"Liam?" His brother pulled off his bicorne and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Another hour is probably fine," he finally said, sounding distracted.

Killian put a hand on his brother's arm. "What's wrong?"

Liam shook his head and gave Killian a half-hearted smile. "Nothing, brother. Just trying to figure out what to say to the Admiralty when we get caught."

Killian sighed. "Don't worry about it," he said gently. "Everything will be fine." I hope…

They drove in silence for another hour, veering deeper into the forest toward Misthaven. It would be another two days travel at the pace they were going, the end so close it was nearly palpable. At the stopping point, they unloaded the wagon, Killian and Liam changed into street clothes and ditched their Naval uniforms as Emma switched back into her dress. They strapped the packages of food and supplies to the horses and left the empty crate and uniforms in the wagon. They freed the hitch and set off again, Liam on one horse, Emma behind Killian on the other.

They made good time, travelling a respectable distance in the few remaining daylight hours. When night fell, they set up camp. Emma built the fire as Liam scouted the area for possible soldiers or, worse, bounty hunters, as Killian prepared what little food they had.

Once they'd eaten, Killian offered to take first watch, knowing his brother could use the sleep. Liam had been up earlier than he that morning and he probably had been taking care of preparations well into the night. His brother didn't argue, for once, as he settled on the ground, wrapped in one of the spare blankets they brought. He was asleep in moments. Emma set up her bedding on the other side of the now-extinguished campfire as Killian rested against a nearby tree stump facing the dark forest, a cup of rapidly cooling tea clenched in his hands.

He was worried - worried this wouldn't work, worried they had been too good at their escape, worried that they wouldn't make it where they needed to go, worried that Emma or his brother would get hurt in the events still to come. He knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep anyway, which is why he had volunteered to stand guard in the first place, but he wasn't prepared for the depth of his fear, slight tremors shaking his body that had nothing to do with the cool night air.

The sound of a branch breaking jolted him from his thoughts, his head twisting to the side so fast he could feel his neck crack. He jumped to his feet, hand at his sword.

"It's just me," whispered Emma in the dark. "I can't sleep."

Killian relaxed slowly and let out a sigh of relief. She came closer and looked at him in the moonlight, a concerned expression on her gentle features.

"Are you all right?" she asked gently. "You seem pretty nervous."

He sank down to sit against the stump once more, Emma settling beside him.

"So much can still go wrong," he said quietly, his hand running through his hair. "And this was my idea, my plan. I feel responsible if anything were to happen to you or Liam, or if we manage to make things worse for both our lands instead of better. I just don't know what's going to happen."

She was quiet for a moment, and he worried she was having second thoughts as well.

"Whatever happens, it's not your fault," she said at last. "It's a good plan, the best I've heard so far. And the timing should work out perfectly. It was rather brilliant, actually."

He blushed, thankful for the near darkness that hid his embarrassment, as he fingered with random threads on his unfamiliar clothes. He suddenly felt her hand on his cheek, pulling his face to her. He turned, her eyes sparkling in the thin slivers of moonlight.

"No matter what, I owe you more than I can ever repay, Killian," she said softly, her voice filled with a sincerity he could almost touch. "You believed in me, you showed me a way out. At least now, we have a chance to end this war. Even if I don't survive, at least I know I went out fighting with everything I have. You're the one who gave that to me, you trusted me when you had no reason to, and I can't thank you enough for that."

He wanted to reassure her that it would be all right, wanted to kiss her again, prove to her how much she meant to him as well, wanted to hold her tight and never let go, but how could he know what the future would hold? They could be dead by morning, and there was nothing he could do about it. A tremor of fear passed through him suddenly and he looked away, ashamed of his weakness in front of her.

She seemed to sense his discomfort, releasing her hand on his cheek and nuzzling closer to him instead. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder - that much he could handle.

"Why did you believe me?" she asked hesitantly. "You had no reason to trust me, even after I showed you the dreamshade and the sail."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," he said with a smirk.

She tapped him lightly on his chest. "I'm serious."

"Well," he started, "we'd been told that your land started this war, and was aggressively involved in grabbing more and more land, against which James was defending. If that were true, then why would you be hiding below the decks of your own ship? There were two options, as I saw it," he continued, glancing down at her, twining his fingers in hers over his heart. "One, you were about to mount a one-woman offense against the entire country, using the tiny bit of dreamshade you carried. Or two, you were telling the truth. It seemed to me that the second was the most likely."

She said nothing, just continued stroking his hand with her fingers gently. He rubbed his hand up and down her arm, just feeling close to this woman who had so thoroughly changed his life overwhelmed him. Yesterday he had been so sure of who he was - an officer defending the Enchanted Forest for his king - and now, everything was different.

"Why?" she asked again. "Perhaps I was planning to use the Pegasus sail to get to Neverland on my own, and stock up on more dreamshade. That would have been the third option."

"You're forgetting two things, Emma," he murmured softly.

"What?" she whispered.

"Your eyes, and your kiss."

She looked confused, so he rushed to continue. "You were terrified, love. Not because you got caught, not for yourself, but for what would happen to everyone else if you were, everyone you cared for, everyone you loved. That's not how an offensive mission would go, would it?"

"Maybe I was lying to get you to help me."

He shook his head. "The fear was real, I can't explain how I knew, but I could almost feel it."

She cleared her throat softly. "And the kiss? Why did that mean anything?"

He smiled down at her. "Well, I may not have much experience with women, but I can recognise despair, and hopelessness. In my life, I've come to understand both of those rather… intimately." He paused at the brief flash of memory, hoping she wouldn't ask how, not ready to relive those painful moments of his childhood just yet. She didn't say a word. He continued. "You, my dear, were so desperate you were willing to kiss a lowly Lieutenant to get away. That told me a lot more than your story did."

She grinned, and tucked her head back down. They sat quietly for a few moments, the gentle rise and fall of each breath they took the only movement in the dark forest.

"It wasn't so bad," Emma said softly, breaking the silence.

"Pardon?"

She sat back. "The kiss. It wasn't so bad, for not having much experience, as you claim."

He blushed furiously, though this time he was certain she could tell even in the dark by the grin that played at the edges of her mouth. "I'm sure you would know. A beautiful princess such as yourself must have many suitors, eh?"

She shook her head, smiling. "There was only one before, but it wasn't a good match."

Killian wasn't sure what to say. "I'm sorry to hear that, love."

Emma shrugged. "I'm not. It wasn't meant to be, we moved on." He was surprised at the relief he felt hearing that.

She moved closer, her hand touching his chest as she sat beside him. He turned, his hand automatically reaching to cover hers.

"There are ways to get more experience, you know," she said softly, her eyes on his lips as she stroked his shoulder, moving up toward his neck and the back of his head.

He wanted this, more than he even knew how much until just then. But he needed to know she did as well.

"Are you sure about this, Emma?" his voice husky and low. "I mean, you're a princess and I'm just a Lieutenant and I'm not even-"

She cut him off with a finger on his lips. "Shh," she whispered. She leaned closer and soon her lips were on him, the softness of them pressed against his mouth. The sparks he'd felt with their first kiss were, if possible, even hotter now, fire racing through his blood as he kissed her. He could feel her fingers threading in his hair, his hand running through her golden strands as well, but all that mattered was her mouth on his, and the feeling he wished would never end.

But it did, and she pulled back, gasping slightly for air. He was breathless, his heart hammering in his chest. He touched his swollen lips with his fingertips.

"That was -" he started hoarsely, voice wrecked with the sheer emotion he couldn't control.

"- much better than the first time," she finished as she leaned forward again, this time grasping the fabric of his jacket and pulling him toward her. He wasn't prepared, he didn't think he'd ever be prepared, for the way her lips crashed against his, taking what little breath he'd so recently recovered. He held her head in his hand, his thumb rubbing against the smooth skin of her neck as she breathed into him the air he'd been lacking.

He was so distracted, he didn't see the heavy musket slamming into his shoulder, throwing him to the dirt. A booted foot hit him in the stomach, driving out his breath and sending him curling in agony, the rough bark of the tree stump at his back. He gasped, tears filling his eyes with the sudden pain as he looked around wildly. Three large men stood in their makeshift camp. One held Emma back by her arms, her face a mask of terror, while another had his hands around Liam's throat, his brother pinned against a tree as he struggled for air, his eyes wide, fingers clawing uselessly against his attackers large fists. The third, the most likely leader, stood threateningly over him, his foot drawn back yet again.

"No," Killian wheezed sharply, twisting to get to his knees. Another vicious kick hit his ribs and he was sure he felt something crack as he fell back to the ground with a pained grunt, fingers fisting in the dried leaves. "Leave them alone," he gasped.

"You don't get to make the demands 'round 'ere," leered the largest man as he loomed over Killian's sprawled form. "Y'see, yer all deserters, 's far as the king's concerned." He pulled back his foot and Killian could do nothing to get out of the way as the kick was aimed once again at his midsection. He wanted to cry out as the hard boot hit his ribs, but he had no breath, he could only gape silently as he begged his body to pull in more air, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.

He felt the large man grab a fistful of his clothing, pulling his upper half from the dirt, his face inches from Killian's. "You'll fetch us a hefty bounty, you three," he snarled as he shook his body roughly.

Killian's vision swam, he could barely breathe with the pain in his chest. His hands came up weakly, grabbing at the larger man's arms ineffectively. "You need us alive," he rasped, forcing the words past his clenched teeth. "So let them go."

The man threw him to the ground and kicked him again, and this time Killian silently begged for unconsciousness to end his pain. "I said," spat the leader, "you don't get to tell me what to do."

He stood back, nodding toward the two men who held the only two people Killian really cared about. "Ge' 'em in the cage," he ordered. He smiled down at Killian, who could only watch as his brother and the princess were dragged toward the dark forest.

"Yer comin' with me," the man grinned as he slammed the butt of his musket into Killian's head, and everything went black.

A/N 2: "Tack against the wind" refers the act of a moving a ship into the wind, usually a zigzagging motion.