"So, Swan, you seem to have quite the penchant for handcuffing me. Perhaps you could repeat said activity in a more comfortable setting whilst engaging in more enjoyable activities," Killian was standing incredibly close to Emma as they waited to be buzzed in to the Charming's apartment.
Suddenly a throat cleared behind them in the walkway. Henry was standing, frozen in place with a slight pink hue to his cheeks despite his overall amusement at catching the two adults clearly in the middle of something far beyond his years.
"Kid!" "Lad!" Emma and Killian squeaked almost in unison as they took a step apart.
Henry just laughed at the look on their faces, likely one similar to his whenever he was caught "with his hand in the cookie jar" both literally and figuratively by either of his moms.
Before Emma could say something in defense as she nervously tucked her hair behind her ear, the loudspeaker crackled with David's enthusiastic, yet commanding tone, "Come on up!"
Henry cut his mother off as she again opened her mouth, searching for the words, "Don't worry, mom. It's not like all of Storybrooke didn't see this coming." He smiled knowingly, "It makes sense."
Emma tilted her head, curious, a small smile of hope and appreciation for the incredible young man her son had become.
"Mom, it's obvious. You're a pro at running from love, but Killian is kinda known for never letting it go. He was bound to catch you eventually."
The two adults stood in awe as Henry smoothly glided between them to head up the stairs with a smirk on his face, "See you up there."
Hook turned his gaze slowly to Emma, touching her cheek and jawline gently.
"You know, Swan, that's one bloody smart kid you have there," He murmured.
"Tell me about it. I'm glad he's back."
Snow smiled warmly as she threw open the door to see her grandson (had he already grown taller since she saw him last?!), "Grandma!" Henry wanted to throw his arms around her but he was wary of the tiny infant nestled against her left arm.
"Neil! How's my favorite… uncle?" Henry laughed at the family situation before a loud conversation interrupted the moment.
"No! No, absolutely not! Just because my dad went off the deep end trying to be 'fun' with Henry does not mean you can take him gallivanting off God knows where in that dumpy boat!" Emma's voice flew up the stairs as Henry smacked his forehead at the sudden change in tone between his mom and the Captain. Somehow, he had learned, this kind of arguing was part of even the truest of loves, despite what most fairy tales said.
Mary Margaret looked at Henry, searching for an answer. "What in the world are they going on about?"
"Oh, don't worry about it, Grandma, it means they're in love."
Snow was surprised at the cavalier way Henry used the word, but her conversation with Charming had certainly pointed toward this as well. Still, she would be watching Hook like a hawk to make sure he treated her baby girl with respect and care.
"But Emma, love, teaching Henry about life at sea is the only thing I can offer him! I don't know this world like every other damn person in this town!"
Her voice immediately softened as they neared the open door to her parent's loft, "Is that what this is about?"
"Let's return to the matter another time," he curtly ended the discussion under his breath before putting on a bright and roguish smile for Mary Margaret's sake. There was something about her disgust at his flirting that made him want to do it all the more. Killian grabbed her hand and before she could pull it away, placed a firm kiss on her delicate skin.
"Morning, your highness. I was so moved by your personal invitation."
"Ok, Hook, ok. It's just breakfast." Her lips were tight, eyebrows raised, and eyes looking past the pirate to her daughter's amused face. Snow was clearly ready to change the subject.
"Speaking of Hook, where is your namesake?" David came around the kitchen counter to greet the three visitors, an apron around his waist.
"I've got to hand it to you, mate, you can really pull that off," Killian ignored the question to tease the man he had come to respect greatly and see as almost a father figure despite their physical closeness in age (and the fact that Killian was a few hundred years older than David). As usual, his impish tongue was resting on the corner of his teeth and lip in amusement.
David shrugged, "Eh I've always said it's the man that makes the clothes not the clothes that makes the man," he nodded as if to emphasize the point.
"Oh, stop it you two!" Snow yanked the apron off her husband with a scowl before pushing Neil into his arms and stalking to the kitchen to finish the first round of fluffy delights.
Everyone chuckled at her reaction before Charming turned back to Killian and teased again, "So, you retiring the silver accessory in favor of a woefully tedious life in Storybrooke?"
Emma answered for the pirate as he touched his ear nervously, "No, Dad, I thought he might like to hold Neil, and dangerous, metal, pointy objects don't usually go on a list of nursery-approved playthings."
David smiled at his daughter calling him "Dad" in such a casual way and at the fact that Killian was embracing being part of a family so easily despite being embarrassed about it. "Good thinking. I don't think Snow's in a very forgiving mood today…" he feigned a hushed voice as he made a playfully nervous look toward the kitchen.
"I heard that!" Her trademark defiant voice echoed in the loft which only resulted in the cheery group launching into another round of laughter.
When Charming gently placed his son in the pirate's uncertain arms a few minutes later, the room was silent with hope for a bright future and many more mornings like it to come.
"How's Neil, Mom?" Emma had joined Mary Margaret in front of the stove where she was flipping perfectly golden brown pancakes. David was setting the table for their family meal and Henry and Killian cautiously sat with the baby, both in awe as they talked in quiet tones to one another.
"Well he's getting better at sleeping through the night. I know I should enjoy even this stage since they grow up so quickly!" Snow made a pointed look at Emma.
Emma laughed and cocked her head in her "let's be real" expression, "Yes, but c'mon, mom. To you I did grow up overnight, but that's only because of the curse. You won't miss any moment with Neil; I know you're going to be a great mom."
Mary Margaret sighed, "Thanks, sweetie. I don't know if we'll ever get used to this 'being-the-same-age-thing', but I'm so glad you're letting me play the role I always wanted to have with you. I guess we're both new to raising an infant… if you have any ideas for combating diaper rash, you let me know."
Emma's lips parted in a wide smile, "you got it. Now how about you let me help you with those pancakes?"
Snow handed over the batter ladle, comparing recipes with her daughter, contented warmth spreading over her face.
Not much later, there were more than enough pancakes to feed the entire town and everyone had settled down at the table, with Neil back in his crib. Emma smiled, recalling the many mornings she had spent like this with Henry, and enjoying the fact that the people she really cared about were all in the room.
It was so strange to be able to have such peaceful moments like this after the constant battles to find loved ones and return to some kind of "normal" life. Portals, portals, and more portals! Emma wondered if what she was feeling now was similar to a soldier returning home. Suddenly, instead of fighting for what you love, you had to choose whether you wanted maple or blueberry syrup on your pancakes.
"So, what now? What's Storybrooke without some curse to break?" Emma wondered aloud as they all enthusiastically enjoyed their pancake breakfast.
"It's home, Mom," Henry simply stated before he shoved a massive piece of fluffy bread into his mouth.
"I know kid, don't worry. We're not going anywhere," Emma leaned toward him, "but maybe chew before you swallow, huh, just to make sure?"
Charming laughed, "He's a growing boy, Emma, just let him be."
Killian reached over to squeeze her hand in support, essentially forcing him to take a break from eating, as she continued with her wondering, "I just meant with people remembering their old life and old… jobs? Activities? As well as their memories from life with the curse, what will they choose? Do we really have enough people to have a self-sustaining life and community? Forever?"
After a few more moments, the room quieted, the sound of forks scraping the plates and glasses being lifted and replaced the only noise. It seemed Emma's questions didn't have a simple answer and it was something they'd have to figure out, together.