This chapter, this chapter, has been, impossible! I do apologise for the delay, but this chapter and my muse have not been seeing eye to eye. But FINALLY i managed to get it to do what i wanted it to do. (On a side note, i don't have a beta so its just the assorted me's making the decisions on this chapter and they all hate each other which makes christmas great!) Any ways, on with the show!

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A sunset was a sunset no matter where you were. The sun looked the same; the colors were the same, the effect was the same. The only thing that changed was the setting. Hook was sitting at the stern of the Jolly Roger, swigging rum and holding an ice pack to his cheek, marveling at the arrangement of colors above the distant horizon. It was the easiest thing for him to acknowledge as it meant he wasn't dwelling on the fact that his romantic entanglements were repeating themselves.

Why was it that the two women he had fallen in love with were the two most important women in Baelfire or Neal's – whatever he chose to call himself – life?

First it had been the mother. She had been a housewife looking to escape her allotted life and he had been nothing more than the man with the ship. She used to say she fell in love with him almost immediately and that was the reason why she came to him, begging him to take her away. At the time Hook was definitely not in love with her. But despite that one particular story construct, he was not a man to deny a woman anything – especially if what the woman wanted ended up with her on her back beneath him. At that moment, he would have laughed hysterically if someone were to come to him and tell him that this housewife was going to have a pronounced effect on his life. But he fell in love with her, and their time together was everything he could ever hoped it could have been.

And then one day, centuries later, he found himself forgetting it all.

In less than half a week he was in love again – although he was loathe to admit it to himself. She wasn't a housewife in a sad existence. She wasn't a woman looking to be woken up by a Pirate's Pillaging ways. She wasn't looking for adventure; she wasn't looking to escape; she was looking for her son. Nothing was going to get in her way. She may have demonstrated a few lapses in concentration, but she refused to be swayed by them and her feelings. And it was that strength of will that Hook was quite certain was the reason he was drawn to her. She was strong and brave, smart and unyielding in her determination. And she had quite a knack for knocking him senseless.

In the time since Killian Jones went from being an upstanding naval officer to feared pirate, he only needed one hand to count the number of people that had bested him. However when it came to counting the number of times this Swan had bested him, he needed another. Whilst it was true that she had caused him physical pain on more than one occasion, she was also had a knack for defeating him with her words. Case in point was what got him back to Neverland. Turning his back on a fight was a cowardly option – but he was a pirate and knew that if the fight did not concern him, then what was the negative in turning away? He had no reason to stay and fight for Storybrooke, so he didn't, but as he stood at the helm, his ship gliding out of the harbor, it was the first time in many, many years that turning away from the fight was the wrong move. And it was all thanks to her, her words, her cutting battle cry. She had decked him without even needing to throw a punch. Yes she was definitely the woman he wanted, definitely the woman who was going to change him, redeem him.

Oh and she was also being courted by the now adult boy that had lost his mother to the devilishly handsome pirate.

Yes, Killian Jones certainly knew how to pick them.

But despite the triangle that was in evidence, Hook had never thought about what it would mean to Neal if she chose him. The only reason Hook stayed at the ship as he watched the party advance on Granny's when they returned from Neverland was to give Henry the opportunity to have a family. It's what every child wanted. He hadn't acknowledged that the man on the other side of the boy they had all just risked their lives saving was that same little boy that he had destroyed the life of years ago.

He was a fool.

And now he had an aching jaw to prove it.

And what did all this mean for him and Emma? Was she having the same thoughts? Was she regretting their night together? Was she going to come to him tonight? Wait, what was she going to do and say if she did come to him?

His jaw hurt, he was finding that his head was hurting, and the very thought of Emma's absence was making his chest hurt.

"What are you memorizing this time?" Emma's voice sang to him from the stairs.

And just like that, the lump in his chest dissolved. She was here, she came back. He swung to see her, and gloried in her face. Nothing negative could come from the happiness that shone from her eyes and cheeks.

"Oh my God, what happened to your face?" She questioned, rushing to him.

Of course, where he might see a glowing beacon, she saw the dark smear on his jaw that he had exposed after dropping the ice pack. Although in hindsight, he should have acknowledged that if she had seen the ice pack, she probably would have reacted the same way.

"I think you know exactly what happened." He said as she reached him.

She stared at him as she reached him. "Neal."

He could only nod in response.

"Did you tell him? Was that why he ended up with his ass on the sidewalk outside of the Rabbit Hole?" She questioned quietly.

"No, he already knew. I thought you had spoken to him." Hook responded. "His hello to me wasn't so much in words, as they were his fist." He continued with a wry smile. "And yes, that was why he ended up on his ass, as you so eloquently put it." He added.

"Well that's when I spoke to him. Also, my parents both know, Henry knows, and I'm pretty sure that by dawn tomorrow morning everyone in town will know." She added looking away wistfully with a slight grimace to her features.

"Are you planning on taking me in a public place Miss Swan?" He asked with a waggle of his eyebrows. "Because I'm quite certain that's the only way for the entire town to know."

"No." Emma retorted with a blush. "Neal and I had a pretty big argument, and I don't know how many ears heard it. Also, Ruby could smell it, and she can be a bit of a gossip."

Hook nodded. "Why could Ruby smell it?" He asked after a beat.

"She turns into a wolf." Emma stated matter of factly.

Hook nodded. He'd heard tales about the girl who turned into a wolf come the full moon, but hadn't had the time, or the inclination to investigate fully if it was a) true and b) who it was. But Ruby, the vixen of the diner was the ferocious beast who could kill him with a snap of her jaw. In that moment he acknowledged that she was the being he must never cross.

"What does Henry think about us?" He asked, pushing past the image of the wolf hounding his imagination from his mind.

"He thinks it's awesome." She laughed. "All the most famous fairytale heroes and villains make up his family tree. I dropped him off at Regina's, and he couldn't stop talking about what Thanksgiving is going to be like." She added with a small frown.

Hook didn't know, or cared what Thanksgiving was, but what elated him was learning that Henry wasn't against the idea of his mother and him being together. As confused and unsure as he had been following his altercation with Neal, it was largely lifted by the knowledge that the boy at the centre of this triangle wasn't bothered by his family's destruction. Hook felt his happiness from the morning returning. He reached up to cup her cheek, sliding an obtrusive strand of hair away from her face. His insides warmed as he felt her lean into his touch. They lapsed into a moment of soundless communication, her face leaning into his hand, her eyes closed, his eyes exploring her face.

It was a perfect moment; the sun was clinging to the horizon, the most gorgeous hues of peach and gold warming her skin, alighting her hair. She was a complete vision, even swathed in the many layers of fabric she wore to keep herself warm. And the best part of all of this: the people who needed to know about their relationship, not only did they know, but they hadn't stopped her from returning. She was his, and by Jove was he going to make sure that that did not change.

"I'm sorry." She whispered breaking the silence, and interrupting his reverie.

Hook could only stare at her blankly. He couldn't fathom what on earth she could possibly be sorry for – unless this was the moment he had feared; she was leaving. Her family and friends were stopping her from returning to him. This was their farewell. No, not on his watch was that happening. He would sweep her off her feet and lock her in his cabin if he had to.

"What do you have to be sorry about?" He attempted to keep his voice calm, and hated the hitch and the hesitancy that interrupted him.

"Neal." She exhaled heavily. "I'm sorry about Neal."

Whilst his insides definitely relaxed as he realized she was apologizing for Neal hitting him, he couldn't shake the ominous feeling that more was to come.

"Don't be." He breathed. "You have nothing to be sorry for where he is concerned."

"Yes I do." She spoke over him, almost whining.

"No you don't." He said firmly, clasping her face, standing up to her. "You're not the one responsible for tearing his family apart." He leaned in to her, his face inches from hers.

She laughed. "I'm partly responsible."

She stepped away from him, evading his grasp which only petrified him more. After taking several steps away from him she stopped, looking back at him, taking a deep breath.

"Hook, I realized that being a family with him wasn't going to work because your heart needs to be in it, and mine wasn't going to be." She said slowly, her eyes staring daggers into his. "The Swan-Cassidy family would never have stood a chance."

"Why?" He asked with a lump in his throat, one that again he was most annoyed that he couldn't hide from his voice.

She sighed again, looking away for a moment. "I thought that would be clear." She almost chuckled. "I'm not in love with him."

Hook stared at her as she stood there, and realized that it was his turn to move, his turn to approach her. He realized as their staring match wore on that for the first time in a long, long time, she didn't have any walls left, they had crumbled before his eyes leaving her completely exposed. He realized just how petrified she was of this change based on the way she was standing. If he didn't acknowledge her statement correctly she was going to run, going to be completely devastated. It would undoubtedly crush her, and would inevitably kill him.

He made another mental note as he stepped toward her slowly; if he broke her heart, he was going to have to become an extreme hide-and-seek champion to save himself from her father – and her mother – unless he took the honorable option and just slayed himself.

"You shouldn't be." He breathed after a beat, his eyes still locked on hers as he moved toward her, acknowledging the oddity that was their word choice.

"Yes. I. Do." She responded emphatically.

He clasped her face again, his forehead resting against hers, his eyes searching for the truth in her opposing irises. They were silent, barely breathing, refusing to blink. Her words had been weights that hung in the air around them loaded with facts that just to be spoken would have had nowhere near the same impact. He couldn't blink, couldn't breathe, couldn't even swallow. For some reason, to do anything that he had some control over would break whatever spell had descended over them. He wanted to kiss her, wanted to pull her up against him and devour her. But despite their proximity, kissing her seemed to be the wrong choice. Instead he just gazed at her, wondering how she had managed to invade his senses in such a way.

Not so very long ago, if the Gods had granted him one wish, anything he desired, it would have been to have Milah returned to him. The two of them could rejoice in their reunion by killing her ex-husband. But now, his only wish would be to spend the rest of his life knowing what Emma Swan looked like in the final dregs of pink and honey light at sunset.

He held her cheeks, his thumb tracing her cheekbone and the corner of her lips, the tip of his nose grazing hers. He felt her mouth twitch upwards, felt her insides rejoicing against him. His fears were gone, never to return. She was staying; she was his; she was happy; she was in love.

"I'm sorry he punched you; you didn't deserve that." She eventually spoke, breaking the silence that had once again fallen over them.

He almost laughed in response. "Yes I did." He smiled, wrapping his arms around her. "I took his mother away, I ruined his childhood. He might be an adult now, but I'm doing the same thing. He has a woman that he's now in love with that he has the chance of being a family with and I'm taking her away from him." He explained throatily, pulling her body against his, marveling in their contact.

Emma shook her head as he spoke, a loud grumble escaping her throat. "The difference though, is that I've spent the past decade with him out of my life. I'm not some oppressed woman running from a coward and seeking adventure, I'm free to choose my own life." She lifted her hands to his face, arching her body against. "And I choose you."

Her voice was jarring in the stillness that surrounded them. Hook realized that the time for not kissing her had passed as his lips found hers. This was now the umpteenth time that Hook had kissed her and this was the first time that he felt in a kiss what he saw between David and Mary Margaret. Love. Lust, passion, desire, they were great, hot and formidable assets, but love left them for dead. As her arms snaked around his neck, pulling herself, if even possible, closer to him, and his arms around her they were locked together, completely lost to the world around them.

As they pulled apart moments later, both completely out of breath, their eyes wide as understanding crept over them, Hook found himself wondering who 'Milah' even was. Emma seemed to catch her breath faster than him, and then slunk out of his grip, backing away, biting her lip, and a come hither look in her eye. The sun had finally dipped beneath the horizon, leaving nothing more than a peach tinge to the distant horizon surrounded by a long smear of navy. A small handful of pristine dots littered the sky above him, almost perfectly mirrored in the sea beneath. But Emma seemed to glow in the darkness. Despite the many layers of clothes encompassing her figure, she was still easily the most perfect creature he had ever seen. As a hunger filled his gut that had nothing to do with food, he followed her, wanting nothing more than to see, feel and then have, the goddess trapped beneath.

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