A/N: This chapter just did not want to end! But I really like this one, even though nothing much happens in it. We're up to The Empress, which symbolizes the promise of something new and wonderful. ;) It is also the card in the Tarot that symbolizes a mother-figure … so there's some Henry and Emma stuff in this one. I know I keep promising that big things are coming with this fic, and they ARE, but until we get to Fortune (and I'm not saying when that is), it's all sort of these little snippets showing how Emma and Hook are embarking on this … thing they are embarking on together. So, I hope you enjoy! And thanks again to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, followed ... I love you all!

Chapter Three
The Empress
"It's the heart that really matters in the end … "

Emma didn't sleep well that night. The couch was hideously uncomfortable, and she didn't even want to go into what the hell her dreams were doing when she did manage to doze off.

Stupid pirate. Couldn't even get a break from him while she slept.

Needless to say, she was up well before dawn, bent over the counter, staring impatiently at the coffeepot as it brewed far too slowly for her liking.

"I thought your superpower was detecting falsehoods, not cooking by telekinesis."

Emma jumped at the sound of his voice, making a face as she turned around. She was going to have to put a little bell on him, just so he'd stop sneaking up on her. "This is not cooking. This is coffee." She eyed him warily as he took a seat on one of the barstools. He looked wide awake, already dressed and ready to face the day. Bastard. "Why are you up so early?"

"This is early?" he asked, quirking a brow at her.

"It's six am. It's pretty early," she told him.

"Well, then, why are you awake?" he asked her.

She shrugged. "Not tired, I guess," she lied.

He shook his head at her. "For someone who can detect lies, you're rubbish at telling them, darling," he said with a grin. "It's quite endearing, actually."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not lying," she said. "And I'm not your darling."

He grinned. "Well, I wouldn't mind still being abed," he said, stretching his arms above his head then. Emma quickly looked back at the coffeepot instead of letting her eyes linger on the expanse of skin on his abdomen that showed as his shirt rode up. "I was having a bloody marvelous dream."

She made the mistake of looking back at him, found that he was giving her a wicked smirk.

"I'm not going to ask you what it was about," she told him dryly.

"And I wouldn't tell you anyway," he quipped lightly, then winked. "You were in it, though."

"Was I beating you to death?" she countered evenly. "Because I'd consider that a marvelous dream."

"Alas, no," he said, feigning disappointment. "In my dream, you're a bit more … agreeable." Again with the smirk. She didn't even want to know what was going on in that head of his.

"Seriously? Ew," she said, wrinkling her nose at him, earning a chuckle from the pirate. The coffee finished brewing then, mercifully giving her a chance to focus on something aside from the rapid pounding of her heart. She poured two cups, handing one to him.

He eyed it. "What is this?" he asked her, sniffing it.

She shook her head, a grin threatening the corners of her lips then. "It's life," she told him, sitting down on the barstool next to him. "I don't function without it. You've seriously never had coffee?"

"Guess there's a first time for everything," he said, raising his mug to her.

"You never forget your first," she muttered, bringing her own cup to her lips, her eyes watching him over the rim as he took his first sip.

His face contorted as soon as the liquid touched his lips. "What in the bloody hell is this?" he asked her, coughing a little. "Are you trying to poison me?"

Emma tried to bite back her laughter, but failed, covering her mouth so as not to wake up everyone else. "Seriously, you drink the equivalent of lighter fluid, and you're going to complain about coffee?" She shook her head, still laughing a little as she reached for his cup then. "Give it here."

"Gladly," he said, shoving the cup her way.

She hopped up off her own barstool, taking his cup over to the counter with her. She pulled open the fridge, looking around for a moment before she found what she was looking for. She took the half-and-half, pouring a little bit into the coffee, then added a teaspoon of sugar into the mix, stirring it up and turning back around. She moved back over to sit next to him again, sliding the cup across the countertop to him. "Here ya go, princess," she said with a grin.

"You actually expect me to ingest that again, on purpose?" he asked her, giving her a look that said "you are out of your mind".

She sighed. "Oh, stop. I fixed it," she said. "Just … trust me, okay?"

His eyes flicked to hers, that same unreadable expression she'd seen the previous evening flashing through them again. "All right," he said, after a long moment, his fingertips brushing over hers as he reached to take the cup from her then. He kept his eyes on hers as he lifted the cup to his lips and took a very tentative sip. His eyebrows raised a bit then.

"See?" she said, finally making herself look away from him.

"I do," he said, smiling and taking another sip. "I bow down to you."

"Soon you won't be able to function without it," she said, returning his smile. "Just like the rest of us."

"Oh, just what I need," he said lightly, his eyes roaming her face, lingering on her lips for a bit too long. "Another vice." His eyes finally met hers again, and she shifted a little in her seat under the intensity of his blue gaze.

"I have to go to the station," she said then, downing the rest of her coffee, mindless of the burn of it on her throat. She didn't really have to go, she'd planned on taking the day off anyway. But she had to get away from him, and soon.

"Emma," he said, but she was already on her feet, taking her cup to the sink.

"I just have to pick up some files," she said, ignoring the imploring tone in his voice. "I won't be long, I'll work from home today. Just … stay here til I get back. Please."

"Putting me under house arrest, are you?" he asked, the teasing grin back on his lips, as though the intensity of the moment before was just forgotten.

"Please, Hook," she said, her brow furrowed. "Just … stay here. Gold — Rumplestiltskin … he's dangerous. And you don't know this place yet."

"I'm touched that you care so much," he said, and he was still smiling, but there was an edge in his voice. Emma wondered what that was all about, but couldn't spare any more time on it, because that was when Mary-Margaret, David, and Henry all made their way into the kitchen.

She cast a glance at the clock, a little startled to see that it was nearly eight … had she and Killian really been just sitting and talking for that long? She ignored the looks that passed between the three of them as they entered the kitchen.

"I have to go to the station," Emma said. "He stays here til I get back."

"If I wanted to leave, love, it'd take more than this lot to stop me," he pointed out.

"If you hurt a hair on any of their heads, I will cut off your other hand," Emma said through gritted teeth then.

"Ooh, she's feisty, isn't she?" Killian said with that annoying smirk of his.

"And she means what she says," Mary-Margaret told him pointedly.

"Uh, I think we can handle it," David said, seemingly a little insulted at the insinuation that he couldn't look after his family.

"Okay, okay," Emma muttered, throwing up her hands and making her way over toward the chair in the living room where she'd set her clothes for the day. "I'll only be gone for an hour or so." She gathered up her things and made her way to the bathroom, grateful for the respite.

So bringing him here might not have been her best plan, after all.

He was just there, all the time, and with the looks and the innuendos … she was meant to be proving a point, the problem was she kept forgetting what that point was, and having to start all over. She didn't want to be feeling these things, and certainly not for Killian Jones, of all people. She never was sure if he was sincere or if it was all just a game … and it was a risk she wasn't willing to take, no matter how drawn to him she felt.

She couldn't afford any more mistakes where her heart was concerned.

She splashed water on her face, pushing all thoughts for everything except for her work. She reminded herself to stop by the diner to tell Ruby there was a change in plans, too. She hoped she hadn't kept them waiting for her and Killian in vain.

She exited the bathroom once she was showered and dressed and presentable, grabbing her blue leather jacket off the hook by the door, frowning as she heard the sound of animated talking from the kitchen.

Seriously, how did he manage it? He wasn't supposed to be charming the hell out of her family.

Or her.

Nothing was going the way it was meant to.

She slammed the door a little harder than necessary when she left. She knew it was petty, but it was sort of therapeutic, and she felt better for it.

A little anyway.

She drove to Granny's, wanting to talk to Ruby as soon as possible. She really did feel bad for not calling them, and she was running over her explanation in her mind as she entered the diner.

Ruby was wiping down one of the tables, and when she saw Emma, she fixed her with a grin. "Something happened with mystery man, huh?"

"What?" Emma asked, blinking a bit. "No, nothing happened. I mean, well, there was a … change of plans and I forgot to call you and I'm sorry about that," she said in a rush. She made a face. So much for her carefully worded apology.

"What'd you do with him, anyway?" Ruby wanted to know, moving back behind the counter to get Emma her normal cup of coffee. It was Saturday morning, and relatively early, so there weren't many other patrons, which meant Ruby had plenty of time to pester her.

Emma made a face as she leaned against the countertop. "Took him home with me?" she said, knowing that wasn't going to come out right.

Ruby cocked an eyebrow, grin widening. "Well, well, Ms. Swan. Didn't know you had it in you," she teased.

"Not like that," Emma said dryly, taking the paper cup of coffee from Ruby and placing a lid over it. "The more I thought about it, the less I wanted to get you or Granny mixed up in all this. It's my responsibility, so I should be the one to have to deal with it." She sighed heavily. "I just have to figure out something. I can't keep him shut in at Mary-Margaret's indefinitely." She shook her head, tapping the top of the counter then. "But this isn't your problem. Thanks for the coffee, and I'm sorry about last night."

"No worries," Ruby said good-naturedly. "But I do want to meet this guy of yours sometime," she said. "My interest is very piqued."

"Maybe we'll come by later. So long as Mr. Gold isn't around, I think it'll be all right." Emma smiled and gave a little wave as she headed out of the diner again, getting into her car and making her way to the station then.

She really didn't do much when she got there, things were quiet, which was a little unsettling, if you asked her. Mostly she just used the time to try to not think about all the little moments she and Killian kept having, whether she wanted them or not.

She just didn't know what she was going to do about him. He wasn't a prisoner, so she couldn't very well keep him under house arrest. But he also didn't know anything about this world.

She supposed she'd have to do something about that. Show him around or … something. Without even realizing it, she'd started making a list of all the places in and around Storybrooke's city limits that she thought he might be interested in.

She drew hearts in the margins absentmindedly when she took a call that ended up being a wrong number.

When she looked down at what she'd done, she made a disgusted face. "Seriously, Emma?" she muttered, crumpling up the paper and tossing it into the wastepaper basket.

She did a few other things around the office, tidying it up a bit, sweeping the floor and dusting off the cabinets, anything to keep her busy and her mind occupied for awhile. When she finally took a break, she looked over at the clock, wincing when she saw how close to noon it was.

She'd been gone for nearly four hours. Considering she'd only planned to be gone for about one, she figured she probably better head back.

She was going to miss the peace and quiet.

The first thing she noticed when she walked into the apartment was the distinct lack of … well, anyone. She wondered if they'd all gone out, and frowned. Surely not …

Then she heard it. It was a sound she hadn't heard a lot of these days, a sound that warmed her heart and made her smile … the sound of Henry's laughter. She hung her jacket beside the door again, then followed the sound to the living room, wanting to know what it was that was making him laugh now. She heard a deeper chuckle as she approached, and her brow furrowed.

"What are you … " She trailed off, finding Henry sitting on the couch, a bowl of popcorn on the cushion beside him, and Killian on the far end of the couch, feet propped up on the coffeetable. The television was on, and they were both watching it.

"What's going on?" she asked, frowning a bit at the scene, confused. It was so … domestic and … and it felt like what coming home from a long day at work should feel like, but that wasn't right, none of it was right, nothing made sense.

"Hi, Mom!" Henry said cheerfully, grinning at her.

"Hi," Emma said, still confused.

"'ello, love," Killian said with a grin.

She rolled her eyes. "Not your love," she told him. "And get your feet off of Mary-Margaret's table."

He looked over at Henry and they shared a look before Killian rolled his eyes and moved his feet. "Happy now, darling?" he asked her.

"My name is Emma," she told him, speaking slowly and enunciating every word, since he clearly seemed to be missing that point. "And what are you two watching in here, anyway?"

"Peter Pan," Henry said, taking a handful of popcorn.

"Why?" Emma asked, brow raised.

Henry shrugged. "Killian wanted to know how it was people from our world knew about him," he said, laughing a little.

Emma raised her brow at that. "Killian?" she asked, wondering at the ease in which Henry said that. In her mind, she called him Killian, but out loud — out loud, it was always Hook. It seemed far too … familiar any other way.

"Well, that's my name, innit?" he said then, craning his neck a bit to see the screen. "Shove over a bit, love, you're blocking the … magic box thing," he said with a wave of his hand.

She bit back a grin at that. "The TV?" She turned her head then to look at the screen, a small smile playing on her lips when the animated Captain Hook came into view. "So what do you think of our world's take on you?" she couldn't help asking then.

"Bloody insulting," he muttered, making a face. Henry laughed, and Emma cocked her head, considering.

"I dunno," she said with a shrug. "Seems like a pretty good likeness to me."

"Oh, aren't you just hilarious?" Killian said, fixing her with a droll look, but there was an amused light in his eyes. "And what's with the bloody crocodile? It wasn't a real crocodile, I'll have you know."

Emma shook her head, trying hard not to be amused by his indignance, but it was just so … cute. "Where did Mary-Margaret and David go?" she asked Henry, trying to distract herself.

"David just left, had to run out for a bit. Mary-Margaret's upstairs, cleaning," Henry told her, eyes back on the screen.

"They got Neverland just about right," Killian mused as he turned his attention back to the movie, though Emma knew he kept casting glances back in her direction.

"Those mermaids are a lot of bloody harridans." He shook his head, shuddering a bit, then stood up. "I think I've taken enough blows to my ego for one day," he told Henry with a grin. "Besides, I'm getting an aching head from all the flashing lights and the noise."

Emma frowned. She supposed she hadn't taken into account just how much adjusting he was going to need to this world. "Go lie down," she told him, nodding. "Really, it'll help. And, here … Henry, I'll be right back." She moved into the kitchen, knowing that Killian wasn't far behind. She opened up one of the cabinets and pulled out a small bottle, shaking two pills into her hand and then grabbing a bottle of water, turning and handing it to him. "It'll make the headache go away," she told him. "I'm sorry, I guess I wasn't even thinking … "

"You're not to blame for me needing to acclimate myself to your realm," he told her kindly, taking the water and the pain relievers from her. "Though I know of a few more enjoyable ways to rid oneself of a headache … "

She gave him a look. "Hook … "

"Emma," he said, mocking her tone with a grin. He brushed a finger over the tip of her nose, leaning in close. Personal space invader, thy name is Killian Jones. "You have dirt on your nose."

"I was cleaning," she said with a shrug, taking a step back then. "Go rest or your head's going to explode, and I don't really want to have to clean that mess up."

"All right," he said, giving her one last grin and then heading up the stairs toward Emma's room. She was a little surprised that he let it go that easily. She didn't know why it mattered so much, but she couldn't help but feel a little responsible, and she vowed she'd try to make it easier on him.

"He likes you, you know."

Henry's voice from behind her snapped her out of her reverie and she turned to face him, giving him a wry smile. "Is that so?" she said, shaking her head at him. "What makes you so sure?"

"Can just tell," he said in that enigmatic way of his.

"Uh-huh," Emma said, eyeing him suspiciously. "I think you're not telling me something." She shifted a little. "What did he say?"

Henry just shrugged, giving her a grin. "I'm not sure you're ready."

She narrowed her eyes at him. Yup, it was official. Her kid was a brat.