So glad you guys are enjoying this! As you requested, a little CS lovin'.

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Broken Parts

Three

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She tells herself she just needs a day. Just one day in the sunlight to compose herself and pull it all together. Because every time her mind drifts, it's to one of two certain men and dealing with them right now seems incomprehensible.

As she descends the stairs to the kitchen, her mind becomes occupied by her son sitting at the bench, legs swinging beneath the stool he's perched on. She pauses for just a moment, drinking in the sight of him, a pain in her chest reminding her that things still aren't completely okay between them, but they are working on it. She is just so grateful to have him.

"I know you're there, mom," he states simply, turning his head to face her.

There's a hint of irritation in his voice and she can't help but think that for all the physical growing he didn't have to deal with in Neverland, he seems to be embracing his angsty teen phase quite early, "I wasn't hiding."

She walks the last bit of distance and begins pouring herself some cereal when his voice pipes up again, "I don't want you to be mad at me, but I have a favour to ask."

Emma frowns, unsure where this could be going, "Okay?" she says slowly.

"I love being here and I love you. But I was wondering if I could spend some time with mom as well?"

"Oh," she says, letting out a breath. She had thought it was going to be something much more complicated than that, "Of course, Henry." Though she and Regina had had their differences in the past and they would continue to have issues with each other, Emma had seen something wonderful in the Evil Queen in Neverland; her unwavering dedication to finding their son was just phenomenal. "I'll call her now."

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It's a funny little set up. Well, Emma can see the comical side of it. Snow White and Prince Charming doing the dishes while the Evil Queen enjoys some time with her son and him pack an overnight bag all under one roof. It's like something born completely out of imagination and she wonders briefly if these will ever be the stories told in Henry's book.

David excuses himself from the kitchen to redress his still healing wound; the magic that had been used to draw the poison from him had left a nasty cut in its wake that no amount of pixie dust could even heal. As he walks towards the bathroom, Emma turns to Mary Margaret realising that this is the first time since being back in Storybrooke that they've been alone together.

And it feels awkward at best.

For a while the sound of metal knives clinging against ceramic plates is all that passes between them, but eventually Mary Margaret puts the cleaning cloth down and turns to her daughter, "This isn't going to be easy, Emma. But I want us to at least try."

She looks up at that, placing the tea towel she had been drying dishes with down as well, "I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're worried about."

Mary Margaret shakes her head, "I want you to feel things and if it is anger, then let it out. Talk to me. Let us be the friends we were before the curse was broken."

Emma nods slightly. She wants to be grateful to have her parents in her life now, but there's always going to be that part of her that makes her curl up in a ball at night and cry herself to sleep because her mother wasn't there to comb her hair for school photos or to wrap a bandage around her hand when she fell down on it a little too hard. They had had some pretty heated discussions in Neverland about it all, but when it comes down to it, she does love her mother, it's just going to be a matter of time to make it feel right.

"Only if you can treat me the same way. You were the first friend I had in years, if ever. You will always be that before my mother. I know that will hurt you, but it's the way it has to be."

Mary Margaret nods in agreement, reaching a hand across to hold Emma's. For the first time, they truly look at each other and both are scared and excited to see the same level of uncertainty in each other's eyes. Then with a small smile, the mood is lightened, "So are you going to tell me about the men?"

She doesn't have to elaborate for Emma to know exactly what she's questioning, "I just wanted one day without thinking about that whole…thing."

Mary Margaret winks, picking up the cloth again and continuing to wash the remaining dishes, "You wanted the gossipy friend. So there's a thing?"

She vaguely hears a knock at the door and wishes she could disappear from this conversation to go and answer it, but David is running past them before they can even move. With a small sense of dismay, Emma then turns back to her mother and tries her best to explain the feelings going around in her, "Neal is the person who hurt me. And he's the one who continually does so. But he's trying. Really trying."

"And what about Hook?"

"Yes love, what of Hook?"

The voice startles them both and Emma kisses goodbye any chance of getting through a day of peace. "What are you doing here?" she asks harshly, her eyes flying to David who just shrugs. Apparently the friendship they had forged in Neverland is stronger than Emma had known, because her father had just willingly let a potential suitor for his daughter into the house.

Well at least she knows she has his approval.

No.

She can't afford think like that. Not when there is too much complication. She can't just fall into the arms of a man at the moment.

"I simply wish to talk, love." He doesn't want to aggravate the obvious hostility in the room.

She nods and begins walking upstairs, wanting to put some distance between herself and everyone for just a moment. She knows Killian will follow her.

He closes the door behind them when they enter her room and she resists the compulsion to open it again. With that barrier there and her window shut behind her she suddenly feels very close to the pirate. It's not uncomfortable, but it's certainly intimate.

"What do you want?" she asks curtly, folding her arms across her chest, trying to put some distance between them.

He only steps closer to her, "You."

Her breathing picks up, her lips parting as she takes in the sincerity in his eyes, "You can't just say things like that. It's complicated and messy here. We can't just want each other and then act on it."

It doesn't deter him in the slightest, his feet bringing him another few inches into her personal space. She doesn't step away. "Why not?"

"Because…" but the protest dies on her lips as he sweeps forward that last couple of inches and kisses her.

And oh it is so much more than she remembers.

He cradles her head as he explores her taste, stepping her backwards until she is leaning against the window, his knee pressing between her legs, parting them, opening her to him.

Her head rolls back as a moan escapes her, dying to a whimper when his lips move to her jaw, working their way up to her ear where he breathes a hot breath setting her senses alight, "You were saying, princess?"

Quick, it's going too quick.

His words bring some sense of balance back to her and leans her forehead against his cheek, breathing heavily, "I just don't know what I'm feeling right now." He shifts a little so that his forehead meets hers, "I don't know if I can be the person you need, while I'm still trying to work out how to get over that part of me who can't let go of the past."

"Neal," he corrects for her and she is reminded again that this man knows her better than she knows herself sometimes.

"But I don't want you to think…"

He cuts her off again. He doesn't want her to logic her way out of her feelings, he wants her to feel them. And feel she does, with her hands running wild over his torso, up his back, in his hair as she pulls him into her and bucks her hips forward. Completely and uncontrollably lost in the moment the second their lips meet again and again. He responds with fervour, his hand reaching for the hem of her shirt and pushing up, exposing a line of smooth skin that he just wants to taste, but she stops him there, pulling her lips from his with a heavy breath.

He leans into her again and she almost gives in, but instead she smiles up at him, admiring the desire she sees written in his features, the sincerity, "Is that going to be your new solution to everything now?"

He chuckles, bumping his nose against hers, "If you wish it, love."

She presses a hand to his chest and pushes lightly. "Hook," he growls, "Killian," she amends, "I just need to work some things out before anything happens here."

His breath whispers across her skin once more, as though he's just contemplating throwing caution to the wind and kissing her anyway. If she's being honest, her resolution isn't that strong, the feel of him surrounding her arouses her more than she'd like to admit and if he was to delve into another moment with her, she wouldn't object, already mentally calculating how long it would take to get those leather pants off him. But after another second he nods and reluctantly takes a step back, "Okay, lass. But your first port of call is me when you figure it out."

Before she can say anything else or he loses all resolve and positively ravishes her, he steps from the room, closing the door behind him again.

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