The look on Hook and Henry's faces when they burst through the door of the sheriff's station should have been her first indication that she was in trouble. But she had been too happy to see them to notice that Henry had something in his hands when he had walked up to hug her.

By the time she pulled away to ask why they were late, he had somehow blindfolded her, while whispering in her ear, "Just go with it mom..." as she began to protest. And though she was wary, and generally was apprehensive about what shenanigans they might have planned, some secret, shy part of her lit up at the surprise. Not that she would admit it of course.

With some help from her Dad (she could recognize the stuttering sound of his old truck a mile away) they had managed to get her across town, the scenic route apparently, and to the docks. Henry and Hook were chattering the whole way. As soon as they had opened her door to let her out, she could feel the wind caress her hair as dusk began to steal the warmth of the day away. She could smell the salt of the ocean and the not so pleasant tang of diesel in the air as well.

Henry led her to what she had already assumed was the gang plank of the Jolly Roger. As they climbed up, she felt Hook, his steady presence at her back, a barely perceptible hand protectively stationed should she stumble, and before she could muster the words to comment on the chill in the air she felt the added weight of his coat bearing down on her shoulders. They had let her take off her blindfold then, but told her to head down below to stay warm as they brought the ship out of port and passed through the bay and beyond into open water.

She was happy to find that what they had planned was fairly low key, and delighted to find a picnic blanket set up downstairs in the common area with quite the spread. They had set up the three of them on the same side of the blanket, with all the food in front of them, and what looked suspiciously like a smart board from the elementary school. She wondered idly how they were powering it.

When the boys finally made their way downstairs to join her, she had already snacked on a bit of her bear claw, because...you know, it was a special occasion. Henry switched on the Promethian board (he didn't bother denying that they had "borrowed" it without permission) which immediately started playing, "Lady and the Tramp". She raised an eyebrow at Hook for the selection, but he merely smiled at her shyly. His preference for animated movies was something Emma and Henry teased him about, but this particular disney movie was her personal favorite.

They sat back against the pillows Henry had propped and began to dig in to their dinner, of spaghetti of course. Emma's rare smile lit up the room as she read over the song titles on the CD that Henry had made her, and when she opened the card with Snoopy and Woodstock on it, she had to suppress a sob when she saw that Henry and Roland had both decorated the inside with little drawings of her, and of Hook, with little hearts, and hooks, and swans. The pirate's eyes had gone wide for a moment, but she merely shook her head and smiled as her eyes flashed, and leaned over to kiss the top of Henry's head to cover up the quick swipe her hand made of her tears. "Thanks kid..." she said, as she gazed steadily at Hook.

It was as easy as breathing, being here with them, as though they were the only three people in the world. And she knew why, even if she wasn't as eloquent or expressive as her charming pirate captain. He made things easy, for her, and for Henry, whenever he could and in any way that he could. And she realized with a dull ache that she had been stingy with him, with her heart, and that it was high time she did something about it.

Henry dropped off to sleep sitting up during "Spirited Away", and Hook had gently eased him to the floor, tucking thick pillows under him and wrapping a blanket over him. Then he had pulled her up from the floor to join him in a hammock.

By the time the third movie of the night was over, the two of them lay squashed together, lazily swinging in a hammock that would probably drop at any moment, overburdened by their combined weight and she couldn't at that moment bring herself to worry about it. Hook had almost fallen asleep himself when he felt a soft kiss on his neck where her head was tucked. He hummed happily in response.

No time like the present, Emma.

"You know...only you could simultaneously respect my wishes and at the same time prove me completely wrong."

"What are you on about, love...", he replied sleepily, but she could hear the victorious smile in his voice.

She pursed her lips and took a deep breath, trying to think of how to express what she was feeling, how thankful she was, and how grateful for the love that he gave so willingly, every single day. Suddenly words like fate, and kindred, and forever...didn't seem so scary.

She cleared her throat to clear the emotion that was threatening to steal her voice.

"You know... just because I don't know the steps, it doesn't mean I don't want to dance. And you, well...you make me want to dance everyday...for the rest of my life."

She turned her head up to look at him then to find that he was stunned into silence, her meaning quite clear to him, but it was obvious that he was finding it difficult to come up with a reasonable response. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, and she tried her damnedest not to be too amused or say something about having finally broken him.

Instead, she did what any reasonable thief would do in her place. She took out her mother's ring, which she had swiped from the box in Hook's inner coat pocket, and raising her hand so he could see, she slowly and surely slipped it on her finger.