CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE- Granny's Diner

Emma and Killian arrived at Granny's Diner just after her parents and brother had showed up. They had already seated themselves at the biggest booth in the place and were putting Neal into a high chair.

"Emma! Killian! How have you been?" Mary Margret hugged Emma.

"You are acting like you haven't seen me in weeks. It has been two days, mom."

"Rumor has it that a lot has changed in the past two days…" She was smiling from ear to ear. "Can I see it?"

"Nothing can stay a surprise for the Savior, evidently."

"That, and I asked for your parents' and Henry's blessing to marry you, love," Killian grinned.

"My father gave you his blessing?" She looked at David in disbelief.

"I am pretty sure I just answered yes in the shock of the moment. I mean the pirate asked for my blessing."

"That is one aspect of having good form that should always be practiced, mate."

Emma held out her hand so her mother could examine her engagement ring. A classic cut diamond was encircled by shimmering pearls on a thin gold band.

"It's beautiful Emma! Look Neal, your big sister is getting married!"

David looked at the ring. "How did you afford that, Hook?"

"Don't worry mate, I didn't steal it."

Emma laughed, "I asked the same thing when he proposed!"

"Have you planned anything for the wedding yet?"

"Mom, I got engaged last night."

"It's never too early to start planning. I already have some ideas. We could have it at the town hall and we could invite the entire population of Storybrooke. I am thinking at least ten tiers on the cake, a full band, Granny's could cater, and…"

"I do not want an over the top, frilly wedding. I just want something small and intimate, I am sure Killian wants the same thing, right?"

"Sure…"

"What do you mean sure?"

"All I am saying, love, is that you are a princess, and you deserve the best of everything. I mean you are going to have me as a husband, Swan," Killian smirked.

"Are you, Captain Hook, taking my mother's side on having an extravagant, fancy wedding?"

David leaned over and quickly whispered to Killian, "Wrong answer. Rule number one of being a husband is always side with your wife."

"Point noted, Dave," he mumbled. He cleared his throat and looked at his fiancé. "Of course not love. I am with you on whatever you want for the wedding."

"Mmmhm, sure."

Ruby brought in a tray with six hot chocolates with cinnamon.

"Congrats, Emma! I overheard the news."

"Thanks Ruby."

Just as soon as Ruby disappeared into the kitchen, Regina and Henry made their way through the door. Henry explained to Emma that he still needed to talk with Regina, which Emma was fine with. They looked like they both had a lot on their minds. After Henry and Regina had taken their hot chocolate and retreated to the back of the diner, Emma turned to her little brother who had gotten ahold of a piece of her hair.

"Neal, would you cut it out?" She pried his little fingers out of her hair.

"He just loves you, Emma," Mary Margret smiled.

"Loves me, or loves my hair?"

"Loves you. He gets so excited every time you come over. You are so good with him," her voice dropped down to a whisper. "Have you and Killian talked about having any kids in the future? Do you want any?"

"Really…? Did you just ask that? We already have Henry. I highly doubt that we will ever have any kids together." Emma looked at Killian who was quietly messing with his hook, and she frowned. "Do you want kids?!"

"Granted love, you have Henry, but he is not mine. I love him like a son, but alas he is Baelfire-I mean Neal's. I am merely saying that I honestly have always wanted a little pirate lass or lad of my own. I would get to be a father and teach them how to sail, wield a sword and the ways of good form and leadership. It doesn't have to be for a while, but it would be nice to think about in the future."

"Prince or princess…not pirate…" David mumbled under his breath.

Emma was sitting in her seat, completely silent.

"Love?"

"I've just never really thought of having another kid." Emma imagined what it would be like to be a mother from the start. She had still had the false memories that Regina had given her before Pan's curse, but they were just that, false memories. She saw how Killian's eyes lit up when he talked about having a son or daughter of his own. His eyes, Emma could just see a little baby with his deep blue, perfect eyes. "I guess it could be a possibility later on though." Emma now found herself kind of wanting a baby herself. Wait a while and then, maybe, just maybe.

"Just out of curiosity, what does Captain Hook want more, a son or a daughter?" Emma was interested in how her pirate would answer.

"As long as it was healthy, I wouldn't care, love."

"Cut that out. You have to have a preference, everyone does. Really, what would you rather have?"

Killian thought about it for a minute. "Probably a wee lass."

"Really? The fiercest pirate in the realms wants a little princess?"

"Aye. A pirate princess as fierce as her father and grandfather and as beautiful as her mother and grandmother. A son would be just as grand, especially if he was as dashing as his father, but you can't protect a lad as you could a daughter. I can imagine having her first dance at her first ball, just as I did with you, love."

"We don't have balls here in Storybrooke, Killian."

"I would throw one just for her."

Mary Margret and David smiled at each other. They would be perfectly okay with more grandchildren around. David was even okay with adding another pirate to the family, though he would never admit it.

Their afternoon went on with Mary Margret trying to convince Emma to go with her ideas for the Royal Wedding of the Century, as she called it. A pirate and a princess getting married in the Enchanted Forest would have been the event to end all events in Mary Margret's opinion. David gave Killian tips about being married in between his rants focused on treating Emma like the princess she was. Those speeches Killian tuned out. Killian was much more interested in thoughts of him, Emma and Henry and possibly a growing family in the future.