Emma adjusted the plate on the table for the sixth time in ten minutes, always finding something new wrong with its position. Never had she been so nervous for a simple dinner in her entire life, and she knew it was because Killian got under her skin. Even when he wasn't physically present, he was working his way completely through the walls she'd had up for so long. And she really didn't mind.

That wall of yours… It may keep out pain, but it may also keep out love. Her mother's words had been ringing through her head for months, ever since she'd met Killian, really. He'd gotten past her walls on the beanstalk, and it had scared her then. But the more she was around him, especially during their time in Neverland, the more she realized he might just be the one worth tearing down those walls for.

"Mom, he's not going to care which side of the plate the fork is on," Henry said from behind her.

Emma whipped around, almost ashamed she'd been caught with how she was setting the table. "I'm not worried about that," she said simply, hoping her face remained impassive.

Henry crossed his arms over his chest, giving her a crooked smirk. "Then set the fork down," he challenged, motioning with his head to the table.

Emma looked back to the table and placed the fork on the right side of the plate. Turning back to Henry, she mimicked his stance, crossing her arms over her chest as well. He rolled his eyes, walking back to the kitchen, and Emma immediately turned back to the table, switching the fork with the knife.

"Leave it alone!" Henry yelled from the kitchen, making Emma huff in frustration.

She stomped into the kitchen, flipping on the light in the oven to see the potatoes she'd been cooking. "What do you want me to say, kid? That I'm actually nervous as hell about this?" She had never wanted someone like this before, not even with Neal, and she was afraid that she'd scare him away with the slightest wrongdoing. "I don't do dates. The last date I went on wasn't even a real date! He was a mark for my job."

Henry laughed, pulling down three glasses. "It's okay to be nervous. I'm just saying you don't have to be," he said, moving over to the table. "Killian likes you. A lot."

Emma turned around, her back to the stove, raising an eyebrow in question at her son. She didn't understand how he could be so confident in the matter of whatever was going on between her and Killian. She couldn't even label it. "Whatever, kid. You're not helping." Turning back to the oven, she pulled out the potatoes that had been diced and roasting in the oven, poking them with a fork to make sure they were done. She could hear Henry moving around behind her, doing the things she'd asked him to do when they'd started. He was in charge of desert, and she couldn't help but laugh when he'd pulled out a box of Jell-O. "That really completes the meal, doesn't it?" She quipped, though she knew he wouldn't get it.

With twenty minutes left to spare, Henry was shooing Emma to her room, telling her to clean herself up so she didn't smell "like that weird smell the stove gives off." She loved the kid to death, and sometimes she wondered about him, but tonight she knew there was no way she could make a fuss. Because she agreed with him. She wanted to impress Killian.

Like you actually need to.

She had just pulled on one of her nicer tops when she heard a knock at the door, and she sighed heavily. Of course, he would arrive early. At least the food is done. She quickly pulled on a new pair of dark wash jeans, running from her room before Henry could get to the door, signaling that she had it.

Opening the door, Emma's smile widened slightly at the sight before her. Killian was in his usual leather pants, probably one of his nicer black shirts as well, and a red vest that she had never seen before. She had to admit that he looked good in red.

"You're early," she said, but any ounce of annoyance she'd felt had melted once she saw him.

He pulled a bouquet of white roses, holding them out for her at a slight bow. "Picking out flowers went a lot smoother than I thought it would," Killian said, a genuine smile playing at his lips at the sight of hers.

Emma couldn't even remember the last time she'd been given flowers. If she recalled correctly, she had never gotten flowers from anyone before. The one time she thought she'd received some weren't even for her, and she couldn't hide her happiness when she took them. "Thank you," she said, stepping to the side to let him in. She was just about to move to the kitchen to put the flowers in water when she caught sight of Henry, holding his stomach and his face contorted in discomfort. "Henry?"

He shook his head, moving quickly to the stairs. "I don't feel too good, Mom. I'm going to lie down for a little while."

Emma raised an eyebrow, moving to stand next to him at the foot of the stairs. "Do you want us to go ahead and have dinner without you?"

"That's fine," he replied, giving her a weak smile before slowly climbing the stairs.

She watched as he disappeared around the top where she knew his bed was situated before turning to Killian, handing him the flowers back. "I'm going to go tuck him in. Just make yourself comfortable," Emma said, a knowing look crossing her face as she climbed the stairs. Henry was already lying in bed when she reached the top, pulling the blankets over his head. She grabbed the edges, stopping him as she sat on the edge of the bed. "I know exactly what you're doing, just so you know," she said, tucking the blankets under his arms.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Henry replied, his voice feigning weakness.

Emma rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless as she kissed his forehead. She stood a few moments later, descending the stairs to find Killian sitting at the table, tapping his foot against the floor, still holding the flowers in his left hand. She was still getting used to that and was sure he was, too.

She started to open her mouth, but he stood, cutting her off. "Have I told you that you look beautiful today, Emma?"

Her cheeks felt like they were burning, and she was sure there was a heavy blush there. "Well, you have now." Taking the flowers, she walked to the kitchen, hearing him follow her. That was one of the things she'd missed since their return from Neverland—having his constant presence there as a general support. Even though they saw each other on most days, it still wasn't the same as knowing he was always there.

"Are you hungry?" She asked lamely as she pulled out a vase, filling it with water from the sink and placing the flowers in it. Of course, he's hungry. That's why you made dinner. She started to walk to the table, but he took the vase from her, their hands brushing as he did.

"Famished, darling," Killian said, placing the vase at the center of the dining table. He looked over at the setting before meeting her eyes. "How about you grab the food, and I take away Henry's place setting? I hope he's alright."

"He's fine, and that actually works," she said, already putting food into the serving dishes she'd sat out. She sliced the turkey roast, placed her diced potatoes into a bowl, and she would worry about the Jell-O when dessert time came. She shouldn't have been surprised when he took one of the dishes from her to ease her load. She placed the bowl of potatoes next to the dish with the turkey on it before starting to sit. Again, he showed his gentlemanly side by pulling out her chair and waiting for her to sit before he sat himself. She really wasn't used to being treated like that, but, with him, she couldn't say she minded.

"It looks wonderful, love," he complimented, gesturing with his hands, silently asking if he could serve her. He's the guest and he's asking to serve me. How exactly did I land this guy? Well you haven't really technically landed him yet. Thank you, but I think I have. "You alright, Emma?" He asked, breaking her from her trance as he started putting potatoes on both their plates.

"Yes, I'm fine," she laughed, waving him off once she thought she had enough on her plate. She looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to try, wanting to know if he would like it or not.

Killian got the message and pushed his fork into the potato, bringing it to his face and savoring the smell. He put it in his mouth, the flavors immediately exploding against his tongue, his eyes rolling back of their own accord. "Emma, this is delicious."

Emma shrugged, trying to hide her surprise that he was impressed. "Yeah well, when your foster parents don't care very much about you, including if and when you eat, you learn pretty quickly how to cook for yourself." Emma chewed on her a piece of turkey before swallowing. "Cooking is actually where I get a good amount of thinking done."

Killian nodded, not wanting to delve too much into her past. He wanted tonight to be the best it could be, which involved leaving the painful past where it was and focusing on what was in front of them. His gaze made its way from her to the stairs for a moment before looking back at Emma. "Are you sure Henry's all right? I could check on him for you if you like," Killian said, starting to stand.

Emma help up her hand, bringing her napkin up to her mouth as she laughed, confusing Killian. She gave him an incredulous look. "You do know he faked it so we could be alone, right?"

Killian sat for a second, before it really hit him, and he couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up in his throat with her. "Oh," he managed to get out between laughs.

She found herself laughing along with him, the sound of it completely infectious. It dawned on her that she'd never really heard him laugh before, and she made a mental note to get that sound out of him again.

The night continued to move that way, laughing at seemingly little things (Killian actually made a joke about getting matching tattoos one day, surprised when she didn't brush the idea off). They learned more bits about the other's past that they hadn't already been able to discern—open books after all. When it was time for dessert, Killian almost spit his drink out at the sight of the blue, wobbly substance.

"You eat this outside of the hospital in this world, too?" He asked, his voice amusing Emma to the point of giggling.

She wasn't sure when they'd moved to the open area of the apartment, but somehow after dinner, he'd managed to turn on the stereo, music flowing from it softly. He stood before her, holding out his hand for her to take, but she shook her head. "I can't dance."

Killian rolled his eyes, taking her hand and standing her up. "Everyone can dance. They just have to find the right person to complete their steps," he said seriously, his eyes never leaving hers as he positioned her arms, beginning to move them to the music.

She wasn't all that surprised at how seemingly effortless it was to move with him, only stepping on his toes once—and she prided herself in that fact—because it was always that easy with him. Everything between them flowed: conversation, passion, attraction, silence.

Love.

What really surprised her was the fact that that didn't scare her, that she would take the step off that ledge with him if he asked her. She knew neither of them was quite ready to admit it, both still working down the emotional walls that had been maintained for years, but they were taking them down together, brick by brick. They were showing the other what love should really be like.

"Emma?" Killian asked after a long bout of silence, looking over her face.

"Yes?" She turned to fully face him, not realize that during the dance they'd gotten so close to one another. His breath ghosted over her face, and she swallowed thickly.

"This has probably been one of the best nights I've had in a very long time," he said, smiling brightly at her.

She realized they'd stopped moving, though the music continued to move around them. Everything else fell away but him and her. "Same here. I wasn't…expecting this to happen."

"What? Tonight?"

"No," she said with a shake of her head, motioning between the two of them. "This. Us."

His smile widened slightly, and he gripped her waist a little more firmly. "Oh, there's an us, is there?"

Emma rolled her eyes, leaning forward to close the distance between them, capturing his lips in a short but slow kiss, completely contrasting their first all those nights ago in Neverland. She pulled back slightly, her lips still brushing his. "What do you thi-?" Her words died on her lips as his melded back against hers, no longer thinking about slow and walls and what ifs. Just Emma and Killian in each other's arms.

The two adults were oblivious to everything around them, including Henry, who sat looking around the corner of the stairs, a large smile on his face as he fist pumped the air. "Operation Phoenix is a go."