This is a really, really, really important chapter and I had so much fun writing it! You get fluff, angst, a couple of twists, maybe….

We're slowly approaching the end of this story (just a couple of chapters left), but I have plenty more where that came from! Thank you so much, whether you were here since I published the first chapter or just started reading a couple of minutes ago. Thank you : )

I do not own Once Upon a Time, or any of its characters. However, I adore them as if they were my own.

Killian sat on the edge of the pier, feet dangling over the water below. He was looking up at the sky, praying Emma would show up. As if a wish being granted, he heard a pair of boots coming closer. He looked to the side and saw a figure clad in a skirt, tights, and blouse approach him. Emma grinned at him, hands jammed into the pockets of his jacket.

Yes. His jacket.

Something about that made him grin uncontrollably. Clearing his throat, he said,

"Swan, that jacket looks absolutely perfect on you. May I ask where you got it?"

She smirked, "Hmm… I think at this little shop called 'Your Closet'?"

"Ha. Ha. Good one. Now can you help me up to my feet, love?"

Emma extended a hand down to him and the second their hands touched; there was that electricity again. The one that made them question whether the other had felt it too. With a flicker of recognition in her eyes and a stare that lasted for what felt like forever, green clashing into blue. She shook out of her reverie and told him,

"So what exactly was it that you had planned for this date?"

"Come, lass, I'll show you."

This time he extended his hand and she took it. He smiled at her mischievously and began to run toward the docks. He stopped in front of a pretty sailboat that had The Jolly Roger written in fancy cursive on the side.

"The Jolly Roger? As in Captain Hook and Peter Pan?"

Killian tried to hide his joy because she remembered the old moniker; she just didn't know it was his.

"Aye, Swan. You can say that I'm a pretty big fan of the story."

"That's cute, actually. Very cute," she told him as she stifled a giggle fit.

He took a step forward, a childish smile spreading across his face while offering his arm to her.

"Would you like to join me on a ride, darling?"

Emma took his arm and nodded once at him.

"I see what you did there."

"What?"

"You called me darling. The Jolly Roger. Peter Pan. Wendy Darling See?"

Killian laughed at that, "Nothing gets past you. I didn't even realize it. Welcome aboard, love."

She stood frozen, staring around wide-eyed like a child. She'd never been on a sailboat before and she was glad he was accompanying her. Emma peered over at him whilst he was making adjustments to the sails. His jeans were perfectly fitted and his sleeves rolled up showed off his biceps, the top button unbuttoned with some dark chest hair peeking out.

Oh, you've done it now, Killian, she thought as her face grew warm.

His voice brought her back to reality, "What do you think of it?"

"She's a beaut. So this is your precious ship, huh?"

Killian hopped off the upper deck and stood in front of her. His sudden appearance startled her and he noticed it. Chuckling, he looked down at her and replied,

"Aye, that she is. Would you like to steer her?"

"Teach me," Emma shrugged.

He guided her toward the steering wheel and stood behind her to help. Emma was a fast learner, he could tell, because she immediately put her hands on the correct places. Killian smirked at the back of her head, internally wishing they could've done this in their own world with Emma remembering who he really was.

"Steer that way and that's port. Steer this way and it's starboard. Now see that star up there?" he whispered in her ear while pointing at it.

Emma nodded, a chill running down her spine after feeling his hot breath so close to her neck.

"Yeah, that's the North Star. That'll guide you in the right direction when you're lost."

"A star. Figures."

He laughed and recited, "Second star to the right…"

"…and straight on 'til morning," Emma finished for him. They looked at each other, then she looked away quickly.

"So tell me about yourself, Scott. What's your story?"

"Sorry, blondie. I don't do backstory."

"Oh come on! I'm on your ship, there's barely any space between us, can't you tell me something about yourself?" Emma protested.

He raised his arms in defeat, "Alright, alright, love." He sighed and leaned against the wheel. Killian had to make something up, fast, because to her, he wasn't Killian. He was Scott.

"I'm from Ireland, in case you haven't noticed by the accent. I'm the town's fisherman, which trust me, is not as glamorous as Mr. Gold makes it out to be. I live in that little house over there by the pier. I spend my free time either here on the ship, on the pier, at the bar or surprisingly, at the library. I like to read. Now as for the bar, well, I'm no stranger to those famous drunken brawls. That's how I got this scar on my cheek here. And in case you're wondering, yes, I've be—" his eyes grew dark as he stopped midsentence.

"What? What is it?" Emma asked, turning around to follow his gaze.

Lightning. Oh, no.

Killian immediately ran to the wheel and turned it quickly to make it back to the harbor before the downpour began. But he was too late. As he turned the ship, the waves rocked it violently, causing Emma to lose her balance.

"Scott!"

"Emma, no!"

A splash and she had fallen off the ship.

"Emma, stay calm, I'm going to get you," he screamed over the howling wind. Killian anchored the ship in place and threw the lifeline overboard and jumped in the water to get her. She swam quickly toward him and grabbed the lifeline with one hand while wrapping an arm around his neck.

With everything in him, Killian fought the current, the wind, and her extra weight to make sure she'd get back to safety. He succeeded, as he pushed her up and she climbed the lifeline and jumped over back onto the deck. He sighed with relief as he climbed it himself to reach her. Panting heavily and coughing out water, she lied down on deck and called his name.

"Scott…"

"Emma, are you alright?"

She coughed once, "I think so. Thank you." Emma told him while she took his hand. The jolt of electricity was something neither of them could get used to but it felt safe. As if nothing could ever happen to them.

After The Jolly Roger reached port, Killian took her back to his house to dry her off. She'd been completely soaked by their little adventure and she was trying to feign the fact that she was shaking while she sat on his couch.

"Wait right there, I'll be back with a blanket. Would you at least like another shirt?"

Emma hesitated for a moment, "You know what? That'd be nice."

He nodded and ran upstairs. Emma looked around his little cozy house and she noticed something strange. There were no pictures at all. The walls were blue and bare, with a small television set in front of her and a never-ending pile of books. Some opened, some closed, some with the binds cracked and torn, and others in such a pristine that Emma wondered if they had ever been opened before.

Footsteps echoed and Killian reappeared in front of her, holding the red plaid shirt he had been wearing just that morning at her house. Emma noticed he had changed out of his own clothes. Now in a white t-shirt and old sweatpants.

"Here's a shirt, here's a blanket. Bathroom's down the hall to the left. I'll be right back, again," he chuckled nervously and walked into what she figured was the kitchen. Emma went and peeled off his black leather jacket, that she realized she'd been wearing since the night before, and her white blouse. Then she returned to the living room, hugging the blanket around her tightly. Scott's plaid shirt was so big on her that she didn't need to wear her skirt to stay covered up.

"Welcome back, lass. By the way, I think perfected The Emma Special so here you go," he told her as he pushed a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon toward her, just the way she liked it. Emma laughed,

"Thanks. I needed this," she took a sip. "And congratulations. It's better than Granny's."

His jaw dropped playfully, "Oh, Emma, stop it. Don't lie to me. You'll only build my confidence up and then crush it."

"I'm not kidding! It's incredible!"

"Well then, thank you, love."

At that moment, Killian realized how close to each other they were standing. An inch more and their lips would collide in a kiss. He tried to do just that, pulling her even closer to him but she turned her head away.

"Please don't," Emma pleaded.

"Why the bloody hell not?"

"Because… I'm going to end up getting hurt. And I've never admitted that before so that stays between us."

Killian took a deep breath, tired of her secrecy and walls. He put the cup down forcefully on the counter, jaw clenched. Emma's eyes widened at this.

"Emma, love, when are you going to realize that this is not you?"

"What are you talking about?"

Another deep breath and he rubbed his eyes. As he exhaled, he began,

"You're not you. You're not guarded or afraid of anything, much less of love. You're a headstrong, intelligent, courageous woman that… that I'm in love with."

She stood up, terrified. "What?"

"Emma, you're not a sheriff. You're a princess. You're the heir to the most important throne in our world. You're not an orphan. Your parents are alive and well. Hell, you live with your mother. And I'm not a fisherman. I'm a servant-turned-pirate-turned-royalty. By the way, my name isn't Scott Knight; it's Killian Jones. Most importantly, you're in love. You and I have known each other since we were ten years old and we've been in love since we were fifteen. You're actually engaged to me. That sapphire mermaid ring of yours that you never take off? Yes, that's your engagement ring. A curse hit the day before we were to be married and start a life together. So stop being afraid of it all because… I love you, Emma. Wake up from that cursed dream of yours and come back."

Emma stood frozen on the spot.

"No. Stop. You're a liar. You just made that up, like all of those books and stories sitting on your coffee table. You're insane! Stop it, Scott! I'm leaving and you're lucky if you'll ever see me again. Here's your jacket, I'm taking the shirt," she yelled as she hurled the leather jacket at him and picked up her still wet blouse and skirt from the couch.

"Emma, love, wait! Please believe me!"

"No! And don't call me love or lass or darling or any of that ever again! Goodbye, Scott."

"Swan!"

The door slammed as she ran out of his house panicking and holding back tears. Emma ran all the way back home, as dawn approached the town, to find Mary Margaret and David half asleep on the couch. They both stood up, looking worried.

"Emma, what's wrong?"

She took a ragged breath as she pushed the door closed and spun around to them.

"It's Scott. The date was a disaster because there was a storm and I fell off his boat. Oh, and he's crazy. He told me that I wasn't me, that I wasn't a sheriff, that I was a princess and that you were my mother and I'm engaged to him and nothing makes sense, Mary Margaret. I'm terrified. I can't right now. I need to sleep."

David stopped in her path and shook his head,

"Look this may sound crazy but you need to go back to Ki—Scott."

"No! I refuse! He's insane and I'm not going back there," she protested. Snow stepped over to talk to her daughter,

"Emma, honey. He's right, though. I really am your mom. And David really is your father. And Killian really is your fiancé. And you really are a princess. This was a curse placed by Regina to destroy our happiness. If you don't go over to Killian's right now, this won't ever end. Please trust us."

Emma couldn't believe it. Everyone was in on a joke that she couldn't, and wouldn't, understand. But she strangely felt as if she had to do what Mary Margaret had told her. She took a deep breath and nodded.

"Fine. I'll go back. But before I go, who the hell are you two supposed to be then?"

Mary Margaret chuckled, "I'm Snow White and he's Prince Charming."

It was Emma's turn to laugh now as she rolled her eyes and mocked a bow.

"Yes, Your Majesties."

Charming smiled. There she is. My daughter's slowly coming back, he thought to himself and out loud he said,

"Go find him, Emma. You'll always find him."

With a nod, she ran back to her destiny. Following the North Star, like Scott had told her, she was sure she'd find him, no matter how crazy the last forty-eight hours had been. What she didn't know was…

This was just the beginning of it all.