One Day at a Time

by CuteMcBeauty

CS AU. Miss Swan's a single mom who holds two shifts since her son's father left them. Mr. Jones is an unemployed widower and father who finds it hard to hold a job because of a handicap. Both broken families trying to run from painful pasts. Maybe they can work through it together... one day at a time. (Rated T for now, will eventually change to M )

16. The Secret Nursery

FULL THROTTLE! SEXY STEAMY LOVE SCENE DEAD AHEAD!

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, LOL.

"Well, holy crap…" Emma mumbled, wide-eyed, as she limped through the massive garden of Killian's childhood home. "What's this neighborhood called, anyway? Posh Valley?"

"St. John's Wood. Westminster." He sighed. "But aye, it might as well be called Posh Valley. We're a mere five minutes' walk from Regent's Park. Now THAT'S a serious garden, Emma, this is a mere imitation."

She turned to look at him wide-eyed. "Well, well! Poor little you, growing up in this awful place…"

Killian merely grinned as he supported her by her good elbow, with Megan and Henry lost in the infinity of green grass that lay before them. He sighed as he gently helped her sit on the two-seating garden swing. "It might look like a lot, love, but don't be deceived; I could have just as well been an orphan like you. Both Liam and I."

Emma rolled her eyes at him and huffed with a mild grin. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"What makes you say that?"

Emma sighed and looked out to the garden, seeing Henry and Megan frolicking around a tree. "This. All this. Killian, I slept in a room with twenty other girls and shared a bed with two of them until I was sixteen and ran away…" She shook her head. "We had a ten yard patio for all of us and we had to be damn careful of our stuff because there was always the jealous older girl who would make sure your things got broken or lost. You… you had all this…" She waved her hand at the garden. "It's beautiful."

Killian sighed deep and placed an arm around her shoulders. "Aye… beautiful it is." He swallowed. "Something happened here once… Liam was off at boarding school already. Try to imagine me, wee little lad, sitting by that pond, love, just over there." He pointed in the direction of a distant pond. "Just there. A nanny sitting on the bench by the side, knitting and just looking up every now and then. My mother would be indoors entertaining her friends and my father would be… ah, buggering hell, god knows where the bloody hell he'd be." He sighed. "One day I got stung by a bumble bee. The nanny was off in the loo, way back in the house. I felt the sting on my cheek and I remember trying to swat the bumble off and I fell into the pond. It was fairly deep; there was no one around for bloody miles. I must have been about… four, I think." He swallowed. "I woke up in the hospital. Nanna Jane was there, and as soon as I woke up she notified my parents, and the one thing I remember is my father looking in through the door and saying, 'oh good, you're awake', and leaving as swiftly as he came. My mother didn't even approach the room. Not a kiss, not even a smile of relief… nothing. I nearly bloody drowned, Emma, and nobody gave a damn. They didn't even reprimand the nanny." He sighed deep. "I know you're thinking, 'poor little rich boy', love… but believe me, it's not all it's panned out to be. I was just as lonely and angry as you were."

Emma swallowed and leaned on his shoulder. "We both had our hell to deal with, I guess…"

"Aye darling, that we did." He sighed and looked around him. "This is all mine now… Liam gets the home in the country, I got this one after mother died." He shook his head. "I honestly have no clue what to do with it. My life is in Storybrooke now."

"Keep it." She sighed as she huddled closer, her slinged arm resting against his lap. "That way you get a place to come home to in the holidays." She looked around. "And anyway, who does the gardening here? I mean, keeping a home and a garden like these can't be cheap…"

Killian sighed. "My father was considerably loaded, Emma. He left a large sum for the upkeep of his properties, it's covered for at least the next twenty years. My mother's money pitched in a bit…"

"She was rich too?"

He nodded with a regretful scorn. "Aye. Debutante. My father picked her fresh off the orchard. He was twenty years her senior, but her family saw him fit for her and pretty much sold her to him like cattle for the grand prize of this very house." He chuckled. "You would think this sort of thing doesn't happen in a civilized world, love, but you'd be surprised what wealth can do to the minds of some dehumanized few. I suppose this was a way to ensure neither of them was paired off to gold-diggers, but… I am fairly sure my mother never really loved him too much, which is actually rather sad." He shrugged again, a deep sigh leaving his lips. "I gather that the only reason they bred two sons was for the mere practicality of passing down their assets and nothing else."

Emma stared at him wide-eyed. "Geez… you're right. That's pretty gothic, you win, hands down."

He laughed softly and leaned his head on hers. "Aye, well… that's all over, I suppose."

She looked at him with a grin. "And I can assume that both your parents would completely disagree with me being here with you. American girl, single mom, waitress… poor."

"Oh they would have disowned me for sure…" He smiled back and kissed her forehead. "Not that it mattered; Liam was the firstborn and as such he was the main heir, so…" He shrugged. "I was always second best… and my brother was well aware of what it was doing to me, so he did his very best to be the family neither our parents ever were to either of us. He always felt he had to watch over my every step. And he did, bless his soul. Poor Liam. Seems our parents fucked us both in equal measure."

Emma's heart broke a little bit.

"Killian… seeing that you would have been… well, pretty much shunned, had they been alive…" She looked into his eyes. "Would you have stayed with me?"

He grinned back. "Would you have accepted a penniless artist with no parentage or family coat of arms?"

She bit her lower lip. "Sure. I accepted that penniless boat repairman way before I knew he was the Mick Jagger of art, remember?" She wrinkled her nose. "The guy's an elementary school teacher these days, I think, I'm pretty sure he's a less than twenty-five k per year guy, or at least that's what we all thought. Pretty ordinary dude. I adore him."

He laughed softly and kissed her gently before she once again settled on his shoulder.

Emma remained silent; she realized she was no one to judge his life and his personal hell growing up. It had always seemed to her that with enough money, she could have owned the world, but seeing the heartbroken look in Killian's eyes as he spoke of his infancy in the lap of luxury gave her a little bit of pause.

Perhaps having too much was just as bad as having too little.

She sighed and looked around. "I have to say though, Killian, this place is gorgeous." She inhaled deeply, her eyes closed and a grin on her face. When she exhaled, she found him grinning at her. "What!" She smiled as she stretched her back.

"Nothing. You're beautiful, Swan." He shrugged. "That's all."

"Even with these stupid things?" She raised her plastered arm.

"Darling, you could be wrapped in yellow post paper and rope for all I care and you'd still be glorious to behold."

"You could have 'unwrapped' me last night, Captain Hook, and you didn't." She smirked. "I would have thought after that episode on the plane you'd be…"

"I was, but it's not my fault that the object of my deepest affection zonked dead on the couch the moment we reached the hotel suite." He smirked back. "I'm not in the habit of making love to practically dead people, Emma."

She smacked his chest playfully. "Hey, cut me some slack! It's the first time I ever travelled this far, pal, I'm jet lagged and… And I'm on pain meds."

"I suppose the three little bottles of vodka you had an hour before landing have little to do with it?"

Emma gasped in mock horror. "It was only two! And the turbulence was horrifying!"

"It was merely a rattle, Swan."

Emma blinked and shook her head. "Ok, whatever, you wanna do the deed or don't you?!"

He laughed aloud, a happy, healthy laugh. A laugh she was really getting used to and would never want to live without any more. "Of course I want to… 'do the deed', love. But we have to strategize…" He tilted his head to where Henry and Megan were squabbling over whose turn it was at a go on the tree swing. "We need not traumatize those two…"

Emma hummed softly. "I think I already gave Megan enough reason to get therapy when she's fifteen with our little heart to heart about pillow fights."

"Nah." He shook his head. "She's a strong girl, she can take it. Nevertheless, I do like the notion of keeping our private lives private." He looked back to her. "So? How will we go about it?"

Emma looked over her shoulder at the massive red brick home behind them. "It's a big house… why don't we stay here? I'm sure if they get their own rooms…"

"Out of the question." He shook his head with a smile. "Swan, this was the home of my childhood, all I knew here were restrictions and boundaries, why would I…?"

"Precisely because of it!" She sat up. "Killian, your parents are gone. It's in the past. This is YOUR house now. You're free to do whatever you want with it…" She fiddled with his top button. "Or in it." As he swallowed hard at the feel of her touch, she raised her eyes to his. "You gotta claim it. This is your life, Killian. Change the memories you have of this place, make them good ones, happy ones. Let me be a part of them." She touched the tip of his nose with her index. "Time to break those boundaries."

He stared into her eyes and smiled softly before his lips gently touched hers for a brief, heavenly little kiss. He nodded, his lips pressed together. "Very well." He raised his face over to his daughter. "Megan, Henry, can the two of you come here for a second please?"

The two children ran to the twin swing where Killian and Emma sat. "Killian, this place is AWESOME!" Henry smiled from ear to ear. "There's real actual fish in that pond!"

"I had totally forgotten about that swing, daddy!" Megan completed excitedly.

Killian nodded. "Happy memories…" He looked into his daughter's eyes. "Listen you two, how would you like it if we stayed in the house instead of the hotel?" He shrugged. "Far less confining, and you each get your own room, what do you say?"

"Oh, our own rooms!" Megan turned a sly face to Emma and grinned softly with a wink before she turned, bright eyed and smiling, to her father. "I'm game! Lots of room for everyone…"

Emma blushed.

"Are you kidding? This is perfect!" Henry smiled at his mother.

"Good then." Killian nodded. "Let's stay here, then. I'll call the hotel tonight and ask for them to bring our luggage here."

With a loud YAY, the two kids returned, racing to see who grabbed the swing first.

"She's on to us, isn't she?" Killian spoke between his teeth as he smiled at his daughter.

"Totally."

They paused for a few seconds and simply held each other.

Emma smiled at the children. "I wanted to thank you, Killian…"

"For what, Swan?"

She nodded in Henry's direction. "For Henry." She sighed. "For being there. He kind of… adores you by now. He had such a hard time after Neal and… Well, he's really coming into his own, ever since you stepped in."

Killian smiled broadly. "I could say the same to you about Meg. She really needed a m… a… you know…" He stuttered nervously. "A girl… in her life."

Emma huffed with a smirk. "You wanted to say a mother."

Killian blushed and swallowed. "Well... aye." He scratched the back of his ear. "I thought of it, but… I didn't want to scare you off or anything, I mean, I… this is just starting out and it's bloody perfect and I don't want to…"

"Hey." She placed her arms around him, holding his gaze with an adoring grin. "It's ok. I'm not going anywhere. I'd be honored."

Holding her loving gaze, Killian grinned back and nodded, his eyes filled with love and gratitude. "Good." He leaned in of another soft kiss and then nuzzled into her neck, just holding her under the shade of the swing. "So… this night?"

"If we can work our way around the plaster… hell yeah."

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It was still early, so Killian took Henry and Megan for a quick sightseeing day around London. Emma sadly had to remain indoors; walking around London with a cast around her leg was probably not a good idea, so she figured that maybe she'd have a chance to maybe do the obligatory little tour of the city at a later date; hopefully with Killian alone. For now, it was good to know Henry was probably having the time of his life with her boyfriend and his daughter.

Emma paced around the house. "Make yourself at home, Emma, feel free to peek and pry anywhere you wish; there's food in the fridge, I asked the staff to fill it up before we arrived, so.. just relax, love, we'll be back shortly.", he had said, and she intended to do exactly that.

If she could cruise the house without getting pained and tired, that was.

The place was huge.

A lot of light filtered in through massive floor-to-ceiling glass panels that faced the garden's bay widows. The place was exquisitely decorated and beautiful art pieces hung from every wall… but Emma was saddened to see that not a single one was a Killian J. Jones.

"So much for family support…" she sighed as she made her way to the kitchen.

She gasped and smiled simultaneously as she came to realize that the massive cooking space and diner were fused into a greenhouse / porch that were probably as big as her tiny apartment back home. "Good god…" She whispered as she used her crutch to skip her way into the room, touching the impeccable black marble on the counter surfaces. "Big enough for a Polo match…" She giggled as she turned back around to the main indoor diner. As she had expected, there was a large dinner table that looked as if no one had ever eaten on it; it was probably made of mahogany or some equally expensive wood and was polished to the point where she could see her own reflection on it, a crisp and perfect bouquet of expensive-looking artificial flowers sitting in the middle, under a glass chandelier. "Shit… he wasn't kidding when he said they were loaded, was he?"

She was practically unable to resist the urge to open the drawers of a Chippendale secreteur desk that sat in the middle of the living room (under an even bigger glass chandelier and over what was probably a legit Persian rug), and twisting the key, she brought the lid down. Her fingers ran along the finely parqueted wooden inlays, polished to perfection, and didn't even bother to think how much that piece of furniture alone might have cost. "This should be in the Smithsonian…" She shook her head as she opened the inner cabinet. She there found what seemed to be photo albums.

She smiled as she pulled them all out and allowed herself to plop down on the (silken) couch… or was it a chaise?

She opened the first album ad found what seemed to be old photographs of a wedding.

Killian's parents.

And he was the spitting image of his mother.

"Talk about a joyous occasion… wow." She sneered as she looked at another wedding image, man and woman standing like two vertical lines, not touching, him in a tuxedo and her in a gown, an arm around his elbow… and serious as a heart attack. "You REALLY didn't care much for the guy, huh, Mrs. Jones?"

She put that album away and produced a second one.

"Well, will you look at this!" She smiled suddenly, opening to find what she was pretty sure was Liam Jones, aged maybe ten, holding a baby boy with striking blue eyes and a messy head of black hair: Killian.

Liam was smiling. Baby Killian looked confused, as babies tend to do.

All that album it was Killian and Liam… Liam and Killian… and the more images she saw and the older they looked, the less they smiled.

She was baffled by a few images, torn in places where Liam would be sitting next to somebody. "Why would they cut him out of the picture?" Emma twisted her lip upwards.

It seemed as if in some images, they had intended to eliminate whoever was net to Liam. It ached her to think that it was likely Killian who had been torn out of the photographs.

Not one single image depicted either one of them with either their mom or their father.

Emma's smile waned slowly as she came to realize just what Killian was talking about.

She closed the album and sighed and suddenly felt herself raise her head, looking up at a painting that dangled above the mantelpiece.

A painted family portrait.

Mr. Jones sat, stern and solemn, on a chair, his wife standing behind him with an equally somber and serious look. To the side where the two Jones boys in their private school uniforms: ties, caps and shorts, blazers in grey and knee socks pulled up high.

No one smiled; no one touched each other.

Emma's heart finally broke in two. He wasn't kidding at all: Killian and his brother had probably been brought to the world as mere inheritors of a family fortune. They looked unloved, unwanted… and downright miserable.

"Oh, Killian…" She sighed, finally understanding that, for all practical purposes, Killian was as close to being an orphan as she was.

Kindred spirits…

She pulled out the one photograph she liked from the entire album, with Liam smiling as he carried his brother, and placed the albums back where she found them.

She still had quite a bit of house to go through, so she took it one step at a time.

Or one skip and a hop at a time…

She suddenly looked at the grand staircase before her eyes, as it curled upwards along the white wall. She took a deep breath and swallowed. "Ok… you put a man from the mob in jail, Emma, you can totally do this…" She grabbed onto the railing hard, tucking the crutch under her armpit, and pretty much skipped up the stairs, one at a time.

It was the first of three landings.

"Holy shit, this is the fucking White House…" She panted, as she scouted the rooms. A studio, a bathroom, a guest room, a bathroom, another guestroom… with a bathroom.

And a master bedroom. With a bed the size of a soccer field. With an equally large walk in closet and bathroom en-suite with a claw-foot tub that looked big enough for two.

"In view of the fact those two didn't really do it for each other, this is just as well…" She shook her head, thinking this would be the room where she and Killian might be sleeping. She side smirked. "At least there's plenty of room to maneuver; god knows we'll need it with these things…"

By the time Emma discovered there was an actual elevator (that looked like a closet, drat!), she had already reached the third floor and a few hours had passed, with her inspecting each and every room before her.

The rooms were spacious and fully lit, and Emma figured they were probably used for storage. But when she turned her face to her back, she found a small door that led to an attic. Curiosity getting the best of her, she turned the small key and walked up as best she could, holding on to the railing on the narrow wooden stairs. As she pushed the door open, she was met with a sight she was certainly not expecting.

Covered in blankets were some pieces of furniture scattered equally around the room. As she pulled them off one by one and the dust made her cough slightly, before her eyes lay the most perfectly beautiful nursery. Books that read nursery rhymes, a plush and beautiful rocking horse that looked like it had never been used, pink flowered calico wallpapers, curtains in matching lace, a gorgeous crib with blankets folded and packed in plastic, a rocking chair… The sunlight filtered through just about right and gave the whole room a gorgeous glow. All in pinks and lilacs.

This was a room for a little girl. Killian had never mentioned a girl in his life.

Emma's eyes watered.

As she gawked at the room, the sound of steps coming slowly up the wooden stairs made her turn her head. She found Killian leaning on the doorframe, looking slightly vexed. "I take it you have a whole load of questions, love…"

"Oh, you're back…"

"Aye."

She grinned softly. "Had a good time?"

He walked to her, hand in pocket and stump hanging by his belt. "They were ecstatic, love. You should have seen your son when we got to Parliament and the Big Ben Clock Tower. I swear no other boy his age should know about Guy Fawkes and the bombing of Parliament."

She chuckled softly. "Yeah, he always wanted to see that up close."

He nodded and licked his lip, shuffling his foot for a few silent moments. "Why are you up here, Emma?"

Emma tilted her head to the side slightly, a compassionate look in her eyes as she limped towards Killian. She simply reached out and hugged him, feeling him respond with his embrace.

"Something happened here, didn't it?" She quietly spoke into his chest.

She felt him swallow before he replied. "Aye." He sighed softly. "Indeed." He pulled away and paced into the room. "Till the very last day I lived under this roof, mother would still not allow anyone up here. She kept the key with her at all times." He looked around him. "Last time I was in this room, I was but a boy and sneaking into this place cost me quite a walloping."

"There was a baby girl?" Emma asked. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Killian grinned sadly at her. "Because I never knew her. Liam did." He touched the furniture as he paced around. "Her name was Elizabeth. She was born before me, when Liam was around five, I gather." He turned to her with a sigh. "Father had the son he wanted, and mother the daughter she yearned for. Alas…" He shook his head. "The wee lass died a few months after her birth. Crib death, they called it then, just went to sleep one night and never made it to see the next sunrise. Tore my mother to shreds. Not five months after, she was pregnant with me." He looked to the floor. "They had both hoped for another girl, but as luck would have it, I turned up a boy. My mother was never too fond of me for it and father, well…" He chuckled. "He blamed me for the depression my mother lived under for the rest of her life. All because I was not the little girl they wanted to have." He turned back to the window and leaned on the frame, looking out the window. "I have to say, though Swan, this is a peaceful room, is it not? I can see why the old lady would not want it disturbed. I suppose I inherited her flair for melodrama…"

Emma walked and wrapped her good arm around his waist. The room had a superb view of the garden and the adjacent park. She grinned as she saw Henry and Megan frolicking on the grass. "And what good is it to have a peaceful room when no one's allowed to enjoy it?" She kissed his shoulder.

He turned to her, his eyes dry, but sad, and smiled at her. "I take it you had a good tour of the house and I do hope to GOD you used the elevator, or tonight you'll be in bloody pain."

"I found the stupid thing thirty minutes ago and I was already on the third landing."

"And you still climbed all these stairs with one hand and one leg?" He shook his head and chuckled as he looked at his feet. "Stubborn woman."

"Killian…" She touched his cheek, running her thumb along the scar beside his nose. "You are not unwanted… you are not unloved…"

"Not now, I'm not." He smiled back at her. "But…"

"I know…" She nodded, pressing closer to him and pulling him to herself. "I get it now…"

He sighed as he sunk his nose into her neck, simply holding her and softly rocking her side to side. "Thank you, love…" He spoke under his breath.

"And you've never been alone… there was... this guy." She pulled away and reached into her pocket, producing the old studio photo of a smiling Liam, holding him as a baby. "You always had him and he had you."

"He turned out to be my brother… father, mother and friend, for the longer part of my life. And my nanny." He nodded as he grinned at the photograph. "Up until recently, I might add." He looked up at her. "Where did you find this?"

"Downstairs, in a pigeonhole of a desk that looks like it was looted from Versailles…"

"Amazing. I didn't even know they kept this!" He smiled. "Where there any other images there, more photos?"

Emma cleared her throat. "Yeah, but… you don't wanna…"

"Why not?"

"Killian…" She tried to explain softly. "Many of those pictures, they… Well they tore you out of them. It's just Liam in most, there are only a few of you.

He laughed. "No, love. Mother and father tore out every picture of Elizabeth, not me." He laughed a humorless chuckle through his nose. "When she passed, they wanted to make believe like she had never been at all. That's why this room was off boundaries to everyone."

Emma shook her head. "Wow, your folks were really messed up."

"You've NO idea, darling."

"I have a pretty good idea, actually." She huffed. "I saw their wedding pictures. You'd think you'd be a bit more cheerful on your wedding day!"

Killian raised his brows. "You really did a bit of snooping there, didn't you?"

Emma gulped. "I… I'm sorry, I maybe shouldn't have taken it so literally, I just…"

"Swan, Swan…" He held her, stump and hand, by her shoulders, a wide smile on his face. "It's fine! There's nothing here I'd want to hide from you. It's ok."

She smiled back. "You turned out to be a pretty nice guy. They should have given you a chance, such a gorgeous baby, look at you!" She wrinkled her nose. "It was their loss. Screw them."

He shrugged with a complacent grin. "I suppose so…" He looked around the room. "I guess many of these things should go to auction or charity now…."

Emma turned to look. "Why not keep them?"

"What for, Swan?"

She gave him a knowing wink. "You never know…"

He held his breath and he could have sworn he felt his heart do ten somersaults within his chest. He felt himself flush intensely and he scratched the back of his ear as he chuckled, his eyes darting to the rocking chair. "I might be chancing it, Swan, but… isn't it a bit too… early to think about that? I mean, not that I wouldn't want to, for sure… but… wh…"

Emma laughed aloud. "You are just adorable when you're all flustered, Mr. Genius Painter of the Twenty-first Century!" She held his hand. "I'm not saying it should happen tomorrow, Killian, I'm only saying… well, who knows?" She shrugged. "It could be."

Killian's eyebrows turned into an inverted v. "You'd… want it?"

Emma turned to look at the nursery around her. "Happy memories, Killian. We said we'd make happy memories. Maybe in time, we can make one of our own, who knows?"

Killian just hugged her. "You are the best."

"Ditto, Jones…"

"But yeah, let's hold out a bit longer till we get to that, though, shall we?"

Emma nodded with a grin. Till we get to that… Till. Not if. Till.

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"So you grew up in an apartment your whole life, Meg, and this was your grandparents' home?" Henry sighed.

Meg nodded. "My dad didn't really get along too much with them, after he left. They were kind of mean to him. I only came here a couple of times. My grandma was nice to me, I suppose. She never liked my mom, though." She sat on the grass. "Last time I saw her was when my brother passed away. When mom died, she didn't even bother."

Henry winced. "That's harsh."

"Yeah, well, poor lady, who knows what she had to grow up with, that's what my dad always says."

Henry stared at Megan and sighed before turning away. "This place is awesome. I only wish we had something like this back home."

"We?" Megan scrunched her nose.

"Oh come on!" Henry chuckled. "Do you really think this is not a 'we' by now, with the way those two are going?" He shook his head. "Before you know it things will get really… crowded."

"Yikes…" Megan sneered. "You're right. We're gonna need a bigger place back home." She turned to Henry. "Do you find it… weird?"

"What, my mom and your dad? Yeah, extremely." He shrugged. "But the big picture is ok. Your dad's kinda cool… and I don't recall seeing my mom this happy in a while, not even with my dad. She was always worried about something or another." He grinned. "I suppose that if they're happy, we can be happy too."

Megan sighed. "I guess." She turned to him with a smile. "So I suppose we should all thank YOU Henry."

"What? Why?"

"Well…" She shrugged, "If you hadn't headbutted me, my dad never would have called that meeting, they never would have met, you would have never gotten kicked out, my uncle Liam wouldn't have had to come by to help out and… well, they would just not be… I mean, things would not be the way they are now. And they're kind of cool."

Henry stared at her, a mild wince and his eyebrows reaching way up. "That is the weirdest thank you I've ever heard."

"Face it; our whole lives are weird. My dad is this crazy artist with an insane fortune he intentionally neglected for years and you and your mom were running from the mob. That's anything but conventional."

"Good point."

Megan shook her head. "That… doesn't mean I have to call you 'bro', or anything, ok?"

"Agreed." He smiled and held his hand out. "Let's just call each other roomies."

"I can do that!" Megan grinned back and shook Henry's hand before standing up and pulling him up with her. "Come on then, roomie, if I remember correctly there's a pool hall in the basement."

"You play pool?" Henry squinted his eyes.

"No." She shrugged. "But it can't be that tough, hitting a few balls into some holes with a pointy stick…"

"It's a cue. And I think that's Snooker…"

"There, see? You know everything, now let's go!"

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While the children's voices could be heard in the halls and rooms, laughter and noise echoing throughout the empty house, Killian set about waiting for the hotel staff to deliver their luggage. By seven, they each had their bags. Henry was stunned and delighted seeing his room for the next two weeks was probably bigger than Grant's tomb while Megan simply sat in the studio watching a movie.

Killian had shown Emma how true 'tea time' was done and after enjoying a typical English cliché, they went for a walk, taking the kids to see Regents Park as the sun set.

Emma didn't know where to turn her eyes. It was beyond beautiful. She felt that she was being strolled around a painting by Monet. Ponds, flowers, gazebos… and a beautiful round fountain. The park was like a little enchanted forest for her. Killian had rented a wheelchair and he seemed delighted in pushing her around the park while she sat, staring with smiles and eyes wider than dinner plates, at her surroundings; he regaled her with stories of his life, growing up here, playing with the neighbor's dogs while the nanny kept an ever watchful eye out for him.

This place was the stuff of dreams.

By the time the park doors closed, the children simply slipped to watch a movie while Killian and Emma played a game of chess (which she won, shocking Killian who seemed to be the chess champ back in school).

Never underestimate a bored orphan, Jones.

Once the kids had bathed, it was blatantly obvious to see they were completely knackered. It didn't take long for them to zonk dead on the studio couch while watching old cartoons on Netflix. It pulled all of Emma's heart strings to see Killian first carrying Megan to her own bed and then gently walking a zombified Henry to his own room.

Alone time at last.

While Killian set about placing the bed linen (and nervously sweating buckets, 'You'd think you'd never done this before, Killian Jones, get your bloody act together…'), Emma took her time in the shower, covering her arm and leg in plastic to wash away the day's due dirt.

And as she came out, she reached into her personal bag and produced a pretty, flimsy little satin baby doll in pale green and gold ('if we do this, we do this right').

"Ok…" She spoke, her hair up in a towel and with a mild wince of disapproval. "I'm sure this will look a damn sight better when these stupid things come off." She reached to the back of the door where a plush looking bathrobe sat on a hook. "Yeah, this will do." She smiled, ad reached for it, covering her lingerie-clad body with it.

Killian was fidgety as she emerged from the bathroom, and smiled. "I just… set the linen." He gulped with a smile.

Emma smiled back. "Yeah, I can see that."

He huffed with a grin and shook his head mildly. "Right… My turn!" He slowly paced past her towards the bathroom.

Emma pulled him by the arm. "Give me one good reason why I can't push you down on that bed and do you right now…"

Killian gulped hard. "W… well for one, you can't push anything right now with that gimpy arm of yours, darling."

"Try me." She hissed with a wicked grin, an inch away from his face.

"Second, I'm dirty."

"Are you being metaphorical, captain?"

"N… no, I'm quite literal."

"So you have a day's wear and tear…" She reached to the back of his head, feeling his black tresses between her fingers. "I don't care, a little testosterone never hurt anybody."

Good god, this woman…

"But I do care." He whispered back.

Emma gave him a quick peck on his lips. "You're acting like a schoolboy who has never made love before…"

He caressed her cheek. "Aye… but then, I have never made love to you. It should be as close to perfect as I can make it."

Emma gasped, visibly touched, as he pulled away with a darkened gaze, a quirked eyebrow and a lecherous grin that was accentuated only by the vision of his tongue running along his teeth before disappearing behind the bathroom door.

Emma stood in stunned silence. "Whew… Emma get a grip." She whispered before removing the towel from her head, steadily detangling her long blond mane as she sat on the edge of the bed.

Killian took his sweet time.

Emma removed the bathrobe and braided the somewhat still damp hair (for practical purposes), attempting to rub on some cream on her one good thigh with her one good hand.

She wasn't even able to get the cap off.

"Shit…"

She was trying to bite the cap off with her teeth when Killian came out of the bathroom.

And he was an apparition. The man was beautiful. She gawked and the tube of body lotion fell to the floor. A silken white skin contrasting against the dark brush of hair on his chest, slender but toned, wearing only a towel around his waist, his hair still damp and hanging over his brow.

He too, took in the sight. Even with her cast arm and leg, Emma Swan was as close to an angel as he could imagine. The pale shade of the baby doll was a near match of her eyes and the gold was like recreating her hair on fabric.

"Bloody hell…" He whispered.

She smiled. "And if I could get away with saying that right back and making it sound charming without my American accent messing it up, I totally would." She smiled as she sized him up with dilated pupils.

He smiled her way. "You truly are a glorious creature, Swan."

She chuckled. "Yeah, a glorious creature who can't even rub on her body lotion because she's only got one arm."

He laughed softly as he approached. "Well, Emma, you do realize that between the both of us, we actually have a functional pair of hands." He bent down and picked up the cream, biting it open, his gaze fixed on hers.

Emma gulped. Hard.

"Now, milady, if you would only pour some of the contents onto my hand?" He grinned, handing her the open bottle. "I'll be all too happy to help you out."

Emma took the bottle and smiled as Killian held his palm open, his eyes never leaving hers.

Bastard, he doesn't have to do a damn thing to be the sexiest thing on two legs.

After she poured some of the contents on his hand and felt his touch on her thigh, gently rubbing the lotion and working it into her skin, she held her breath.

"Oh this is a pleasant smell..." He smiled as he gently pressed his lips on her thigh, inhaling deeply and his hand working the silky liquid down her calf.

She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip, feeling the rough beard as he whiffed and kissed his way up her thigh.

She caressed the black mop of head and he raised his eyes to her with a mischievous grin; the awkward, ear-scratching schoolboy had been replaced by an eager, adrenalin-pumped man and she didn't know what to do to get a grip any longer. "Killian…" She whispered, closing her eyes as he reached up higher, his hand touching her hip beneath the shorts of her baby doll.

She smiled from ear to ear.

He raised his eyes up at her. "Lie down, love." He gently lay her back and slowly came down on top of her, sinking his face into her neck. "You're so beautiful…" He spoke against her skin as she ran one hand up and down his back.

When he reached her eyes, they exchanged a mild grin, cheeks flushed and eyes locked, before he sunk into her kiss, losing himself in the feel of her lips and tongue, his one good hand grabbing her waist, the feel of the satin beneath his fingers rubbing against Emma's skin and making her release a mild little moan as her hand reached down to touch over the towel.

She hadn't even noticed that the towel was gone. She smiled into his kiss as she touched his bare skin, the firm, rounded mound of his glute beneath her fingers. He gasped mildly when she made for a sudden grab, but he didn't stop his own ministrations as his hand felt beneath the fabric of her top, slowly reaching up to first caress, then cup her left breast. She inhaled sharply and leaned deeper into the bed, slightly arching her back to press her body against Killian's as much as her dangling plastered leg allowed her to. "Oh, yes…" She whispered.

Killian leaned on his elbows and grinned at her. "May I?" He said as he looked from the baby doll top to her eyes.

"You may." She replied.

He nodded and used his good hand to slowly lift the baby doll up and up and up… revealing her breasts, perked, ready, begging to be touched once more. He sighed deeply and shook his head. "You're stunning…."

She reached up, her hand touching the soft hair on his peck, dallying for a while on his nipple and making him breathe deep as she did. "So are you…"

His eyes met hers. "I love you, Emma."

"I love you too."

He smiled again as he once more descended on her, kissing her face, her ears, down her neck and clavicle, and finally engulfing one yearning breast in his mouth, playing around with the hardening pink bud before turning to the other to supply her with equal attention.

"Oh…god…" Emma moaned softly, her hand gripping his hair.

As he continued keeping his tongue busy with her bosom, his wayward hand reached down and tugged the little boxer short down her hip. The typical awkward moment when clothes have to be removed played out as he chuckled, realizing he'd have to go all the way down to remove the garment down the rigid leg.

"Sorry, I have to…" He grinned.

"Take your time, Jones…"

As he stood, she took the opportunity to look at him, gloriously nude and visibly more than ready for everything. She wanted that. She wanted him inside her, over her, everywhere.

"Liked what you saw, I see…" He whispered as he pulled the blankets up and helped her go under them.

"Hell, yeah…" she whispered back.

He stared at her naked form and raised his brows. "I'm speechless. You are absolute perfection."

She giggled softly. "And you ain't seen nothing yet, buddy, get back down here."

He grinned and joined her under the blankets. "Can't wait." He said, closing his eyes and coming together with her in a kiss that grew stronger and fiercer as he grew harder against the soft and supple flesh of her thigh. How he wanted her, adored her… loved every inch of her. Feeling the whole length of her nakedness rubbing against his own skin made him softly moan into her, mild moans, moans of desire, heat and love. "Oh, Emma… Emma…" As he kissed her deeply, he took his good hand down lower, slowly reaching her hip, then the inside of her thigh…

"Open a little, love…" He spoke into her mouth.

She nodded and tried to pry her heavy plastered leg to the side. He laughed softly as he literally helped her carry the heavy limb a little to the side, giving him enough room to finally reach down slowly, reaching her folds and first caressing the gentle, slightly hairy mound, before letting his finger explore slowly between her dampening walls.

"Oh… Oh god, yes…" She gasped and smiled as he fingered her softly, playing with her, smiling as he looked at her face, her eyes shut tight and her lips parted, her steadily rising pulse visible on her neck.

"Tell me where you like it…" He whispered.

Truth be told, she liked everything he was doing, but when he touched a particular spot, that spot that would very certainly drive her to ecstasy and helpless abandonment, she drew in a quick, sharp breath. "There! Killian, right there… Oh, shit…"

"There it will be, then." He bit his lip, intensifying his touch and relishing in the view of this gorgeous woman in his arms, melting into his touch, her moans growing louder and her expression one of wanton pleasure. She was soon to reach the top; he saw it from her shaking knee and her pulsating hip. He too, was breathing hard. "Come on then love… come to me… that's it… a little more Emma, come, come, love…" He plunged two fingers into her, slow the first time and then hard… hard and fast. Emma squirmed and moaned his name aloud. And as she finally came, he felt the delight of tightness and additional moisture around his fingers. "Yes, Emma, that's it, good, oh love that is so good…" He hissed through teeth, his own desire now permeating through the lustfulness in his eyes. "I want you so much… Oh god."

Emma opened her eyes, trying hard to not let the blackness around her gaze overcome her as she finally managed to draw breath. "K… K… Killian…"

She wanted to touch him, to feel him…. But his desire had taken control of him and he had already positioned himself between her parted legs, his length touching the moisture of her. "Emma, I want this so much… please…" He moaned, nearly begging. "Let me make love to you, sweetheart…"

She smiled, still trying to catch his breath, and said nothing else as she reached with her good hand for his behind, helping him inside her.

She shook and nearly screamed. She was still sensitive from that first orgasm, so coming hard again the very second he entered her just happened. He felt it immediately and moaned her name softly, feeling her contractions pressing hard around him and riding them out with her, breathing hard as he tried his very best to control himself long enough to have a good feel of her before finishing his own game.

Sure enough, he moved within her, feeling her every little squeeze and the softness of her silky moisture that came as a result of her desire for him, for this, for every single thing he was doing. Knowing he was responsible for the gorgeousness of this woman's pleasure made him soar both emotionally and physically, as he drove into her with a hard, steady rhythm. "I love you… God, I love you…" He kept whispering, a broken shaky voice with every manly thrust.

Emma felt overcome, overpowered and delighted. Feeling him inside of her, the completeness and the love that he emanated through every single pore and follicle was nearly too much as he made her see stars and moons over and over.

She could barely think, let alone speak, but she managed to say "I love you Killian" just before she came one more time, her hips rising, welcoming the feeling of him taking her over, making her his and giving himself to her, beautifully and eagerly.

He stopped momentarily and rose over her face, looking inbto her eyes. He looked deliciously flushed, his face damp with sweat and a smile that was brighter than the sun. "I'm n… nearly done, Swan…" He panted.

She smiled and touched his face. "Good… I'm ready." She spoke between ragged breaths.

He leaned into her neck, pressing her entre body to his, and pumped harder and harder, trying to make her reach one more peak.

He didn't, but he sure as hell hated having to pull out of her to empty himself with a loud, final moan, on her belly.

When he was done, he rolled off of her and they both lay, gazes fixed on the ceiling and hands entwined, panting, moaning… recovering.

"Blimey…" He finally managed to say.

"J… Jesus H. Christ." She replied. She turned a flushed, happy face to him. "And this was just the first! Holy fuck, we're in for a hell of a time!"

He turned to her, eyebrows risen and huge smile on his face. "Emma… you… are… amazing!"

"You don't do too badly yourself there, Mister…"

"You did it. You rocked my bloody world…" He laughed as he desperately tried to catch his breath.

She bit her lip and let go off his hand to reach for the towel from her head she had dropped to the bedside. "You were pent up." She smiled, looking at his seminal fluid on her navel. "This is intense…" she said, attempting to wipe off the mess.

He chuckled and turned to her. "Allow me, m'lady…" He took the towel from her and cleaned her off himself, before tossing the towel to the foot of the bed. "There. As if you'd just come fresh form a river spring."

She laughed and turned her body to him, staring at his still reddened face with a grin, snuggling into him and looking into his eyes. "You're a hell of a lay, Killian Jones… and I adore you."

With a contented sigh, he pulled her to him and leaned a cheek on her forehead. "Oh, imagine the things we will do when your plaster comes off…"

"Oh, yeah…" She said through a smile.

"Quite the pillow fight we just had, darling." He giggled.

She looked up into his eyes and wrapped her encased arm around his waist. "I am going to be so damn sore in the morning."

"Aye…" He rubbed his nose against hers and then pressed his lips against hers. "And you'll bloody love the soreness…" he smiled into her lips.

"Yes I will." She replied between kisses.

"There's only one thing missing right now, love…"

"What's that?"

He shrugged. "A decently sized tub of Haagen Daasz and two spoons."

"Oh THAT would be a very pleasant mess!" She laughed into his mouth before once again nuzzling up against him.

He settled to hugging her back and drew a deep breath. "I do mean it, though… I love you. I love you so bloody much…"

"Hmmm." She hummed, a grin on her face. She turned to kiss the spot where his neck met his clavicle and sighed. "I love you very much too, Killian. Very much…."

He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes.

It wasn't till the light of the early sun hit her eye that she realized they had fallen asleep in each other's embrace. Nothing had ever felt as warm and perfect as making love and sleeping with Killian J. Jones.

She looked at him as he slept, his face lax and his lips slightly parted, deep breaths and the occasional soft snore. She grinned and waited for him to wake, but soon after she had dozed off again, safe and loved in the arms of her painter, and in the knowledge that her son and his daughter, her new little family, were all safe and happy and under one roof.

Yep; she could do this for the long haul.