"Sorry lass, I hope this'll do? I don't seem to have much small enough to fit you."

He's holding up the matching top to the pajama bottoms that are still sitting sinfully low on his waist and a pair of boxer shorts from his position in the doorway of his bedroom.

"We'll match, how cute."

He peers down at his legs and then looks back up at her, a slight blush tinging the tips of his ears as he gives her a somewhat bashful smile.

"Aye, I suppose we will."

There's something about his nervousness that's helping to calm hers and she finds herself moving towards him, one hand still clasping her robe tightly to avoid giving him a free show as she comes to stand in front of him. She takes the clothes from his outstretched palm, their fingers brushing lightly under the flannel as he steps from the doorway into the hallway. She wishes she could say that she felt sparks at his touch, but honestly, her whole body feels like a livewire and just being within a few feet of him feels electric.

"You can change in my room. I need to go dig out the extra sheets and blankets for the guest room."

"I'll be quick so I can help you."

"Don't fret, Swan. We've got all night."

The salacious wink he punctuated that last statement with was pretty ridiculous, but she finds herself laughing all the same. She makes sure to roll her eyes dramatically before closing the door to his room to change, and catch her breath.

She tries not to look around too much, having worried about him being a creeper she doesn't want to become one herself. Quickly pulling on the boxer shorts, navy blue with little white anchors (seriously, how cute is he?), she lets her robe drop to his bed so she can slide her arms into his shirt. As she works the buttons closed she can't help but blush at the fact that she's cuddling up into her sexy neighbor's clothes like she's his girlfriend getting ready for bed. And yes, she definitely took note of his lack of smaller clothing, leading her to believe that he's single (God she hopes so) or at least doesn't have a serious girlfriend who might leave clothes around. She feels a bit like a teenager with a crush, but honestly, she wants to put aside alone and aloof Emma Swan for an evening and just go with it for once. Glancing up to look in the mirror, she attempts to make less of a mess of her hair that's still knotted on top of her head, thankful that she hadn't washed all of her makeup off before being evicted from her bathroom.

In the corner of his mirror she sees a small black and white photo of two young boys, one of which looks like he could be Killian, dark unruly hair and a mischievous lift to his eyebrows. The other boy is taller, definitely older, but the resemblance uncanny. Brothers, if she was to guess. They're sitting on the edge of a pier, tying a worn rope into knots, smiling brightly at whoever is behind the camera. She can't help the pang in her heart at the sweet scene, unable to quell her envy for memories like this, family moments caught forever in time to cherish.

A soft knock on the door jars her from her longing, her fingers pulling back from the edges of the photo to tuck a stray curl back into her top knot.

"Everything okay in there?"

"Uh, yeah. Be right out."

Unwilling to let melancholy set in, she sets her shoulders back and gets her head back in the game. Before moving to open the door she stops and looks down, her fingers fiddling with the top two buttons of his shirt for a moment before she moves to slide the plastic free from the fabric. She's got a half dressed man waiting for her outside of that door and well, it's been a long time and she's curious to see if he might be up for the challenge.

The look on his face when he sees her in his clothes, however, makes her wonder if perhaps he won't be able to handle it. He barely catches his jaw before it falls open, the bright blue of his eyes darkening as he tries to keep them focused on her face and not her cleavage peeking through her (his) barely buttoned shirt.

"Eyes up, Sailor."

Her heartbeat picks up a bit when she sees him reach up to scratch behind his ear again, knowing she is affecting him and enjoying the fact that she can make someone as sexy as him nervous.

"Sorry, love. You just look far better in my clothes than I ever will."

She leans against his doorjamb, her fingers running along the inside edge of her open collar as she smiles, raising her eyebrow at his boldness. Well, two can play at that game.

"Oh, I don't know. Those pants are working for you pretty well."

It's his turn to lift an eyebrow, stepping a bit closer as he cocks his head a bit to the side, his tongue peeking out to wet his lower lip as he regards her.

"So, Swan, are you tired or can I interest you in a nightcap?"

"I think a drink sounds like an excellent idea."

He swivels to face back down the hallway that leads to his kitchen, bowing slightly as he gestures in front of him.

"After you, milady."

"Well, aren't you gallant?"

She shuffles past him, making sure to add a little extra sway to her hips, her bare feet cold on his hardwood floor.

"I prefer dashing rapscallion, love."

"Oh, so you're more of a pirate than a prince, then, huh?"

"Quite perceptive, Swan…"

'Well, I'm no princess…where's the liquor?"

His laugh is deep and full of life, making her smile to herself as his hand brushes against the curve of her back as he slips past her into the kitchen. She follows a few steps before planting her hip against the counter to watch him reach into the higher cabinets for his liquor bottles. Her eyes linger a bit on his happy trail that comes further into view at his movements, her lips tingling at the thought of pressing kisses along the muscles leading down…

"Eyes up, Swan."

Despite the blush creeping up her neck that she's sure he can see, she attempts to look up without any hint of embarrassment, but fails miserably when her eyes meet his. His eyebrow is raised so dramatically that she can't help but laugh, amazing herself at how comfortable they seem to be in each other's presence, despite the sexual energy that is practically pulsing between them.

"Hey, you're the one who said he was dashing, remember? I'm just looking over the goods to see if I agree with your assessment."

The bottle of rum in his hand slides along the counter as he steps a bit closer to her, his eyes never leaving hers as he reaches up to grab a few glasses from the open shelf above his sink.

"Oh really, love? And what conclusion did you come to?"

"Not bad…"

"Coming from a stunning creature, such as yourself, I'll take "not bad" as a compliment."

She takes the small tumblers he is holding out to her, purposely brushing her fingers against his in the process.

"Perhaps you should."

He's firmly in her personal space now, the bottle he's holding up between them the only thing stopping her breasts from brushing against his chest.

"Rum?"

"You are a pirate, seems appropriate."

"Aye, my thoughts exactly."

She could kiss him right here, right now and she doubts he would mind one bit. The way his eyes keep darting to her lips and back up again tells her that he's having similar thoughts, probably a bit unsure as to the right move on his part. As much as he jokes about being a pirate, she can tell that underneath his outward cockiness lays a gentleman, one who offered his home to her as a refuge and not for a roll in the sack. She's going to have to convince him that she's fully on board with option two. Perhaps she'll ease him into a bit…

"Okay, before it turns into talk like a pirate day in here, how about you crack that open and we get on with the drinking portion of the evening?"

He smiles wide and sets the bottle down next to her on the counter. Reaching into the freezer he pulls out his ice tray, cracking it open so he can add a few cubes to each glass.

"Hey, do you have any limes?"

"Aye, love, in the refrigerator in the door."

Pushing herself from the counter, she retrieves a lime and proceeds to look around for a cutting board and a knife. Spotting what she needs, she looks over her shoulder at him, looking for approval before deciding to make herself useful. Catching her eye, he nods before turning to refill the ice tray in the sink. She bumps his hip as she joins him at the sink, pushing his hands out of the way so she can rinse the lime under the water.

It starts with a gentle flick of water from his fingers against her cheek. This turns into her retaliating by pulling the nozzle and aiming it in his direction, water collecting in the dark hair covering his chest and dripping down his abs. He wins the battle, however, when she finds herself shivering from the cold water and ice cubes he unceremoniously dumps over her head from the half-filled tray in his hands.

"Oh my GOD! I cannot believe you just did that!"

"Sorry love, you were asking for it."

"I know, I know….but damn, that's cold!"

"Here, let me help."

Before he moves towards her he reaches over and shuts off the water, not fully trusting that she won't make a last minute dive to get him back. Nozzle firmly back in place, he turns back to her, his eyes moving to focus on her hair as he steps closer.

"Ah, found an ice cube. Hold still, love." He's so near now that she can smell the musk of his aftershave and she doesn't resist the urge to rest her fingertips lightly against his waist, deciding that easing into this was a bad, bad plan. His eyes flicker down to hers briefly at the contact, a small smile tugging at his lips as he reaches into her top knot to retrieve the offending ice cube. He doesn't step back after tossing it into the sink, his fingers finding their way back to the curl that has escaped again, sparks definitely flying as he tucks it back behind her ear. He looks down at her, the desire she'd seen simmering before now at a boiling point, his lips parting slightly under her gaze.

"Better?"

She moves her hands forward, curling her fingers just under the waistband of his pants, the crisp hairs on his stomach tickling her skin as she pulls him towards her, his muscles contracting sharply as his warmth meets the chill of her fingers. Her nose brushes his chin as she looks up at him slowly, her intent hopefully clear as to what she hopes will happen next.

"I think I could still use some warming up."

He doesn't disappoint. His hand at her ear moves to cradle the back of her head, holding her steady as his mouth finds hers in a kiss that's pure passion, the groan passing between his lips into hers just about the sexiest thing she's ever heard. His other hand is scorching against the skin of her back where it has found its way underneath the flannel, gentle pressure holding her firmly against him from hip to chest. One of her hands is caught between their bodies, pressed sinfully against his stomach and halfway down his pants, while the other is on a journey to map out the planes of his back. Her teeth drag lightly against the plump pad of his lower lip, desperate to taste and feel more of him, greedy for the slide of tongue against tongue. He shifts her head slightly, his mouth opening wider to fulfill her silent request, a small moan escaping unbidden as she loses herself further into the heat building between them with each passing second.

When she moves her fingers against his stomach he shudders, his mouth pulling back from hers just far enough to take a breath, his eyes still closed as he lets her explore the soft skin just under his waistband. His hand at her back moves down, his fingers sliding just under the elastic at her waist to pull her hips flush against his, leaving her no allusions as to his obvious arousal.

"Emma?" Her name escapes his lips in a ragged whisper, his breath hot against her cheek as his eyes open, a question evident behind his blown pupils as he focuses in on her.

Not entirely sure she can formulate words; she decides that perhaps she can demonstrate her answer in a way that leaves nothing to be misunderstood. Turning her hand so her palm is flat against his stomach, she slides her fingers down further inside his pants, taking him in hand at the same moment as she lifts her head to fuse her lips back to his, his deep guttural moan reverberating against her tongue as she takes control. He lets her stroke him for a few brief moments before his hands are grasping her backside, lifting her so he can set her on the counter beside the sink.

"Sorry, Swan, if you kept that up much longer I wouldn't have been able to be much of a gentleman."

"I thought you were a pirate."

"Even a pirate knows that a lady should always go first, love."