Author's Note: I just couldn't resist throwing in some oldies mentions. ;) Thank y'all for being the awesome readers that you are! I hope you've enjoyed this story! :)


If trying on dresses had made Emma feel like a princess, walking back into the very busy great room of Storybrooke Town Hall arm in arm with her father made her feel like a celebrity. She felt like every single eye in the room was on her, and as she and David walked past, people would give them reverent little nods.

It was making her more than a little uncomfortable.

"Is that like a respect for royalty thing?" she whispered to David after the third young girl not much older than Henry practically curtsied in her direction. "Because it's kind of weirding me out."

"Yes," David whispered back, trying not entirely successfully to stifle a chuckle. "I thought it was bizarre at first, too. To be honest, I'm still not really used to it."

Only then did Emma realize that her father had grown up a shepherd and he'd had the royal life thrust upon him just as suddenly as it had been thrust upon her. At one point in his life, this was all new to him, too. She met his gaze, her eyes wide in realization. He sent her an understanding smile. "That being said, if you ever need advice, kiddo, don't be afraid to ask, all right?"

"All right," she agreed, matching his smile.

To help her out with the discomfort of everyone staring, David headed not through the center of the room but around the perimeter as they made their way back to the dessert table. A concerned Snow and an anxious Killian stood at attention when they spotted father and daughter approaching. "Are you all right, sweetheart?" Snow asked when Emma was within earshot. Though Killian didn't voice it out loud, it was clear from his tense posture and the concern swimming in his eyes that he had the exact same question.

"I'm fine," Emma assured them. It was on the tip of her tongue to insist that she'd simply needed to step out for some fresh air, so she had no idea why her next sentence tumbled from her mouth. "I was just a little overwhelmed."

Killian's expression of concern softened into one of gentle understanding. Snow flicked her gaze up to David, comprehension in her eyes. Then she smiled, grateful to her husband for going after their daughter and helping her in a way that only he could. Only he had gone through what Emma was going through now, going from someone whom everyone overlooked to someone to whom everyone paid attention practically overnight. "Is everything okay now?" she asked, refocusing on her baby girl.

"Everything's fine now," Emma answered, which was the truth.

Snow smiled at her and grasped her hands for a moment, squeezing comfortingly. Then, as quickly as she'd taken them, she let them go. Emma smiled back, touched by the motherly comfort.

Then Emma slipped away from her parents, sidling up instead beside her pirate. Now able to see that she was indeed okay, he smirked at her, plucked a chocolate-frosted brownie off a tray on the dessert table, and, bless his heart, handed it to her. And oh God, was the chocolate comfort sorely needed. "Thank you," she murmured as she bit into the double chocolate deliciousness.

"It is my great honor to supply you with some much needed confections," Killian teased. Much needed was right; the brownie was just the thing to lift her spirits. He waited until she swallowed her bite of brownie before asking, "Are you sure you're all right, love?"

"Yeah," she said, meeting his gaze. "It's just all still so … new to me."

"Aye," he nodded, and it was clear that he understood perfectly. Something of an open book and all that jazz.

Before either of them could even say another word, the opening notes of "My Girl" echoed through the large space. And of course a smiling David chose that moment to step up to them and hold out his hand to his daughter. "I was planning on getting all prince-like on you and requesting the honor of your accompaniment on the dance floor but in light of our conversation outside, I'll simply ask if I may have this dance."

Emma arched an eyebrow at him, mostly to divert attention from the sheepish flush coloring her cheeks. Killian plucked the half-eaten brownie from her fingers and gave her a gentle nudge towards her father. "Apparently you may," she deadpanned, making both David and Killian grin.

David led his baby girl out onto the dance floor. "You're not going to wow me with some kind of secret classical dance talent like a certain pirate back there, are you?" she asked as he placed one hand on her hip and held her other out to the side.

"No," he assured her, chuckling when Emma let out a breath of relief. Apparently, though, he wasn't done. Grinning teasingly, he added, "This tempo's all wrong for a waltz, anyway."

Emma stared at him as if he had three heads. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Not at all," he answered. "I may have grown up a shepherd but I do have some years of royal training under my belt. Dancing is one of those things you just pick up after a while." Emma supposed that was true. She'd certainly picked up on the waltz well enough when she had no other choice. "All I'm saying is I've tripped the light fantastic a fair few times."

She blinked up at him. "Who the hell says 'trip the light fantastic' anymore?"

He grinned at her. "Gotcha."

Emma rolled her eyes, snickering. God, her dad was … such a dad.

As they danced, Emma began to grow more and more uncomfortable. For whatever reason, she felt like all of the eyes in the room were still on them.

"What's the matter, kiddo?" he murmured to her. "You're tensing up."

Emma looked up into his eyes, into her dad's eyes, and the it's-nothing excuse that had been on the tip of her tongue melted away. "I just feel so … exposed."

Which was the truth. When she was at King Midas' ball, she was supposed to blend in and not call attention to herself. Not that she'd done a wonderful job of that towards the end there but the dancing part had gone rather smoothly. But here … she just felt like everyone was watching her because she was the princess.

David glanced around them and was able to see what Emma meant. People were indeed casting brief glances their way, the way one would occasionally glance at a celebrity if one happened to be in the same room with him or her. "You get used to that after a while, too," he assured her, recapturing her attention. "We're technically royalty but even in mundane Storybrooke terms, we're the sheriffs. We're the closest thing Storybrooke has to celebrities."

Emma had to arch her eyebrow at that. Storybrooke was filled with famous fairy tale characters. It was pretty much Disney World in Maine.

"For people who didn't grow up knowing us as characters in stories, I mean," he amended with a smirk. "The point is, don't worry about them. Just focus on the music, all right?"

Emma nodded and focused instead on trying to match her movements to her father's. And then it hit her: she was finally getting the chance to dance with her dad. Somewhere inside her, her second-grade self was ecstatic.

She'd never forgotten it; the elementary school she attended at the time had sponsored a father/daughter dance on a Friday evening close to the end of the school year for Father's Day. Having no father – or even any male figures in her life because the group home she was living in at the time was run by a single woman – she'd had to skip the dance. Three particularly cruel kids in her class hadn't let her forget it, either, and had tormented her the entire week leading up to it.

Her features must have darkened because David asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Emma said, shaking off the memory and smiling up at her dad. "I'm just glad I'm finally getting to do this."

A touched smile tugged at David's lips. "Me too, kiddo," he murmured and, unable to resist the urge, pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Me too."

The rest of the song passed in silence, both of them basking in the much delayed activity of enjoying their first real dance together as father and daughter. It may have come a couple decades later than it should have but as far as Emma was concerned, it was better decades later than never at all.

When the song ended, David stepped back, held her hands in his, and gave her a reverent nod. "Thank you for this dance, princess."

Emma quirked an eyebrow at him and held his gaze a long moment before snickering. "You're such a dork."

"Of course," he said, his pride in his so-called dorkiness readily apparent. "Aren't dads supposed to say embarrassing things like that?"

Yeah, she supposed they did. Emma rolled her eyes but she was smiling.

They stepped off the dance floor and headed back to their respective partners. As soon as Emma approached Killian, she snatched her half-eaten brownie from his hand. "Thank you for holding this," she said as she bit into it.

"Of course, love," he chuckled.

The song currently playing was a fast one, so Emma was not at all surprised to see a ridiculously energetic Henry run up to his grandparents, take their hands, and drag them back out onto the dance floor. "How many desserts has he eaten?" she asked, choking back a snicker.

"A fair few, I'm willing to wager."

"Yeah, me too. He'll sleep good tonight, that's for sure." Emma finished her brownie, wiped her fingers on a cocktail napkin, and tossed the napkin in the wastebasket beside Killian.

Killian turned to her, eyebrows already waggling. "And what are we going to do so you'll sleep good tonight, lass?"

Emma grinned. "This." Though it was clearly not at all what he had in mind, she grabbed his hand and dragged him out on the dance floor. The DJ had clearly begun playing some sort of oldies medley because the opening notes of the Beatles' "Twist and Shout" played over the fading tones of Chubby Checker's "The Twist."

Killian stood stock still, completely unsure of what to do. Emma smirked at him. "They didn't teach you the twist in waltz school?"

He scratched at his ear. "I'm afraid not, love."

"Well, when it comes to the dances in this world, the twist is about the easiest one you can do." She kicked off her shoes, much to Killian's amusement, and took both his hand and hook in her hands. "Watch my feet and just do what I do."

For a pirate, he was certainly a quick study. And with the black leather jacket, well … let's just say he wouldn't have looked out of place at a sock hop.

They danced through both "Twist and Shout" and "Dancing in the Street," but just as Emma was about to suggest taking a break, the tempo shifted with Frankie Valli's "Can't Take My Eyes Off You." Finally hearing something that was a little more his speed, Killian held his hand out to Emma. "Your highness, would you do me the great honor of dancing with me?"

And maybe it was the adrenaline from the previous dances still coursing through her veins or maybe it was the not entirely serious lilt of his voice but Emma didn't even tease him for his choice of words. She just grinned and said, "You better believe it, pirate."

He held her close and the two of them swayed in time with the music, getting lost in a sea of words and each other. "Are you having a good time tonight, love?" he asked after a long moment of silence.

"Yeah," Emma assured him. "It's been … a little overwhelming but I am having fun."

Killian smiled, his blue eyes shining. "I'm glad. So am I safe to assume that aside from the overwhelming parts, your second ball is a success?"

"Balls are still uncomfortable, fancy things ..." Emma allowed before smiling up at him. "But as balls go, this one is pretty okay."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "'Pretty okay?' A glowing review from Emma Swan."

"Okay, okay," Emma relented, heaving a mock put-upon sigh. "This ball is awesome. But don't tell anyone I said so; I have a reputation to uphold."

Killian chuckled and leaned in for a kiss. Already somewhat giddy from being so close with him, Emma let the kiss consume her completely, only coming back to reality when they broke apart for air. "Your secret is safe with me, love."

Emma smiled. If she got to have quality time with her mom and dance with her dad and receive kisses like that from her pirate, maybe balls weren't so bad at all.