Chapter 22:

Intentions, Priorities, and Visitors

Storybrooke General Hospital

Tawny finally woke. Her eyes didn't open, but she had let out a groan and had seemed responsive to his startled shout of 'Tawny-love!' This victory was momentary, however, as she soon went back to being his sleeping beauty.

The Whale physician asserted she was out of the woods and that this cycle of slumber was needed and no cause for concern. He was encouraged to go back to his room at Granny's to catch a few winks of his own. But he refused. He wanted to see and hear for himself from her own lips that she was alright.

An hour or so later, she woke again. He got her to drink some water and was able to reassure her about the young lasses, before she was asleep again. He could not leave her yet though. She had still been so weak and pale.

The third time she awoke, she had been stronger. There had been color in her cheeks and her voice had been not as breathy, if still raspy. She had been able to sit up and listen to the white coats pontificate, to take a short stroll around the nursing station, and talk him into doing what no one else had.

He had slept the stipulated eight hours at the inn and had been back within nine. He would have been there sooner, but he took the time to arrange a surprise.

It had paid off. Her joy at seeing the chattering little lasses was worth more than all the gems he had stashed in his hold, more than any treasure he had ever obtained or attempted to attain. Seeing her with them planted thoughts in his head, with longing, that he had not had in a very long time. He hadn't even gone that far with Swan.

As the party was being broken up, Princess Ella caught his eye and signaled that she wished for him to join her. He nodded and left with them all under the pretext of 'escorting them to their carriages.'

Little did he know that the princess wanted him to do exactly that.

After Jefferson and his lass had departed and the wee lass tucked into her safety chair, the fair-haired blue-eyed princess faced off with him, her eyes unexpectedly challenging.

"You look like you have something to say, princess. Best get it off your lovely chest," he goaded, eyeing her already heaving bosom.

He went immediately upon the offensive out of habit and the desire to signal that he was not one to back down from a confrontation, even if she was a fetching lass and a friend of Tawny's.

Her blue eyes narrowed even more, not appreciating his compliment, "It's time we talk about your intentions towards Gwen."

Crossing his arms and leaning back against the vehicle behind him, he countered, "Is it?"

"Yes, Zel, Red, and I think so."

"And they nominated you to be the one to do so?" He knew he shouldn't try to rile her up, but he couldn't seem to help himself. All his anxiety while waiting for Tawny to wake up was still boiling within him, even now that he knew she was no longer at death's door. The fact that she had been and he could do nothing beyond thinking happy thoughts on her behalf still had him on edge. He had failed at even that because all he had been able to ruminate on was all that he wished he had done differently to prevent his lass from being so broken.

He was still struggling with it, so instead of lambasting himself, he was needling this very convenient target.

She had more backbone than he expected because she drew herself up and replied coolly, "I was the best choice." She then smirked and casually shrugged, stating, "Sure, Red as a werewolf is more intimidating with her potential and history of ripping out throats, and Zel has the whole I-would-and-could-slit-your-throat-if-you-hurt-my-friend thing, but they have been rooting for the two of you as a couple from the beginning. Zel has a weakness for reformed rascals, and Red believes in second chances, needs to believe in them."

"And you?"

Meeting his gaze, she forthrightly declared, "And I have a history, thanks to the Curse, of having even the best of men changing his mind and choosing himself over us."

He stood there in contemplative silence, before dryly observing, "And I'm not the best of men in your mind."

She contemplated him for a moment, finally stating, "No, but I think that you have the potential to be the best man for Gwen, if, that is, your intentions are honorable and your reasons for them are pure, or at least not entirely self-centered."

Killian stroked his chin in thought. He knew what his intentions were, and he knew what his reasons were. He had all this time at her bedside and off the coast of Canada to think about them. But he was not going to share them with this lass, even if she was a princess and Tawny's friend. But how good of a friend was she? What lengths would she go for Tawny, the woman who cared for her child, who had practically given her all so that Xandy could have a better world? He wanted to know. So he did what he did best and tested her.

"Conroy has already threatened me with bodily harm if I hurt the lass. You have intimated what the fair Red and Mrs. Conroy would do… But what about you?"

When he met her eyes a predator gazed back at him in what had once been innocent blues, and then with a disconcerting and dispassionate calm she divulged, "After my husband was taken but before the Curse, I had quite a lot of time on my hands to contemplate what I would do to those who kept him from me. Ironically, Regina saved my soul when she sent us here…but my point is that I have learned that I am fully capable of doing unspeakable things in the defense and in the name of those I care about."

Killian was impressed. Either she was fully capable of descending to his level as she claimed or she was an incredible actress who knew the intimidating power of using a person's imagination against them.

He, however, was not cowed just impressed, so he finally answered as much as he was willing to, "My intentions are honorable towards Tawny, and while my reasons are not the purest, they are worthy of her, which is not to demean her worth – for she deserves the world. But what either my intentions or reasons are is between us."

The princess opened her mouth to protest, but he held up his hand to stop, saying, "I will tell you that I will gladly spend the rest of my life, my last breath proving them to her."

She held his gaze, no doubt searching it for his veracity, before nodding in acceptance and declaring quietly, "Fair enough."

She then held out her hand in a gesture of truce. When he took it, she gave him a firm shake and said, "Good luck."

Before he could respond, she was getting into her vehicle and driving away.

~0~

After that terribly awkward conversation, Killian was grateful to immerse himself in Tawny's moving picture entertainment.

He was quite enjoying himself, partly because of the show itself but also because of his lass's reaction to it. Her eyes lit up at lines like "Shiny, let's be bad guys."

It was rather annoying when Swan finally deigned them with her presence.

It was even more so, when she ratted him out about his revealing Tawny's crusader identity, especially since it had been her obstinacy that had provoked him into it in the first place.

When they were discussing the Council's indecision about the villains' fates, he had to bite his tongue to refrain from making quite a few detailed and violent suggestions. And as Tawny told of her ordeal, it was all that he could do not to get up and go carry out those very same suggestions.

He didn't though, for that was not what his lass needed from him, and her needs were his priority now. So he remained silent, held her hand, and was just there for her. And because their relationship was mutually beneficial, she soon returned the favor and offered her own comfort, while she told of that scabrous buggering bilge rat's attack on her.

When she told of how she dispatched him, he didn't know whether he wanted to pick her up and swing her around, crowing in delight at her brilliance, or whether he wanted to shake her for taking such a beating. He didn't really want to do either of course with her injuries and all, but that was the depth of his feelings which were running wildly amuck beneath his placid, supportive exterior. If his lass ever figured out the extent of her influence over him, he was doomed.

When Tawny gave her vague explanation of the blackguard's reasons, being very chary with the truth, warning bells immediately went off in his head. It took him several moments to figure out what she was referring to, and when he did, he was instantaneously swamped with a wave of guilt.

If he hadn't killed that Claude chap, his lass would not have been beaten nearly to death…

His guilt was only mildly assuaged by the argument that she would have been unable to defend herself, still strapped to that chair, when the other two henchmen had come down to collect her.

Although it was only mildly alleviated, it was enough to clear his mind and allow him to question how the man had learned of her complicity in the first place. Tawny had never before mentioned being discovered as his insider… Was she hiding something from him?

When he attempted to confront her, she dodged with the promise of "Not today." He wanted to press her, but he could tell that she did not have it in her. Her face had lost its color. Her big brown eyes had sunk into her face, and she was pulling away from him. He could not have that, so he merely nodded and continued his comforting caress of her hand with his thumb, while changing the subject.

Normally, he would have been amused at her crack about drinking contests with the she-wolf, but this was no laughing matter, her safety, not to him. However, he attempted to keep his response light, knowing that is what she needed.

He didn't succeed. His voice cracked when he made his request, and at her soft reassurance, he nearly broke down and dumped all his pent up emotions on her – his frustrations, his fear, his love for her.

He couldn't do that to her though. She wasn't ready, and from what he had learned from his experience with Swan, pushing too hard and too fast would only guarantee a broken heart. So once again, he kept silent, but it was much harder to do so.

His distress was obvious to his lass, and with a gentle tug to his hand, she attempted to rescue him. He didn't quite know what she was babbling on about at first, but he did realize that she was trying to express gratitude for something.

"For?" he asked, honestly having no inkling what this was about, but highly intrigued.

"For coming and getting me, but just as importantly, for being here. It has been a long time since someone has cared for me the way you have been, treating me as if I was your sole priority," she explained.

And just like that she sent him spinning again. He wanted to kiss his silly lass even sillier, for even thinking it had ever been an option for him not to come and get her, to not be there for her, and not realizing that she had been his priority ever since she had declared Captain Hook dead and offered Killian Jones a cause to live for. He wanted to thrash all who had not cherished this woman as she deserved, and he wanted to embrace her and tell her how much he did. He wanted to dare her to try and get rid of him.

He settled upon merely vowing, "Always, love."

As he gazed into her beautiful brown eyes, he knew his own were conveying what he yet dared not, and it took all he had to quip self-deprecatingly, "You know, lass, I do have a problem with letting go."

She smiled and his heart warmed, and then it nearly stopped with her coy rejoinder.

Perhaps, she wasn't as unready as he thought she was. Perhaps, if she was willing to play with fire with words like that…

So choosing to be hopeful, he tested the waters with a huskily whispered word: "Passion."

He was rewarded with her big eyes widening further and darkening with … desire? And her breath hitching. And her tongue darting out to –

"Hey, guys!"

And just like that, the moment was ruined. Henry had arrived.

~0~

Killian's reaction upon hearing Henry's greeting was priceless. He froze, still leaning over her, but while his body was immobile, his face was a Picasso portrait of expression. It was part exasperating grimace and part self-deprecating smirk and had an eye roll that somehow conveyed both.

Somehow she was able to stifle her laughter and give him a light shove, returning him to his chair, so that she could return the boy's greeting with a soft, "Hello, Henry."

Over his shoulder, she saw Regina's lip curl into a sneer and her eyes flickering back and forth between her and Killian in disgust, obviously picking up on the undertones of the little tableau that they had just interrupted. To her son, she declared, "Henry, I'll be in the lobby, if you need me."

Tawny thought the woman would completely ignore her former accomplice and her former maid, but then she stiffly asserted, "Oh, and, Miss McKinley, I'm glad you are doing well."

All Tawny could do was stare flabbergasted at the woman as she swiftly swept away, not waiting for a response. When she was able to collect herself, she turned to the boy who was now sitting on the other side of her, opposite of Killian, and staring expectantly at her. Smiling at him, she prompted, "So, Henry, I'm told you want to ask me about my tramping days."

He beamed right back at her, practically bouncing in his chair, as he replied, "Yeah, I mean the stories are never really quite right and yours has you as an old woman or a little girl, so…which were you?"

She chuckled softly, both at his enthusiasm and at the errors of her tale, "Neither. I was a young woman, early twenties, and I was working as a tavern wench."

His brow furrowed quizzically at that, "Oh… How did you that happen? Going from being a lady in Arthur's court to bartender?"

It was her turn to freeze. She was unsure how to respond, as she had not been expecting that question. She had been ready for him to ask about her interactions with the 'bears', but not this, not about Arthur.

She glanced at Killian, silently pleading for a rescue. He did not disappoint.

"Why so curious, lad?" her man-in-black intervened.

The boy's brow furrowed again, this time in contemplation. After a few moments of introspection, he said simply, "She helped raise me."

Again, the boy flummoxed her. She had been expecting something along the lines of wanting to know about Arthur and his knights, not because he felt some sort of …attachment to her.

Apparently, he flummoxed Killian too, because the man's mouth dropped open and comically hung there in shock. It took several seconds for even his expressive eyebrows to engage in motion. Eventually, he was able to lift them in question and his mouth was shaped into his habitual smirk as he asked, "She did, did she? I was unaware of that."

Henry nodded and whispered, "Yeah, during the Cursed years, she helped out my mom while she was cleaning our house. My mom was always getting calls, and so I'm pretty sure she changed my diapers and cleaned up my messes and watched me and stuff, while my mom was distracted with other things. But don't tell my mom – Emma. She doesn't know that. I think it would hurt her."

Killian nodded in agreement. His blue eyes filled with understanding.

Nothing was said after that for a few minutes, but then Henry perked up and grinned conspiratorially, "And Tawny was the one who would slip me notes, quotes from comic books, that would remind me that heroes got bullied too or that loners could still have family, if not by blood." To her, he said, "You were my Alfred." His grin turned sheepish and his cheeks tinged pink as he added, "Although much younger and better looking."

The emotional roller coaster that she had been on all day had reached her breaking point, and tears began to well up and it was all she could do to hold them back, so as not to upset the boy, even while she smiled at that last bit. She had had no idea that her notes had meant so much to him, or that she had meant so much to him.

Once again, Killian came to her rescue and chuckled lightly, "That was very sweet and touching, lad. I especially liked your attempt to butter her up there at that last part." Henry ducked his head in that universal gesture of feigned innocence, clearly giving away that there was some truth to Killian's insinuation.

"But I have to warn you that no amount of flattery will work with this lass," he cautioned. "She is a woman who likes her air of mystery. It makes her feel safe."

Tawny thought about objecting to this or even at being talked about in third person while she was right there, but she was too intrigued by watching their interaction to do so.

Henry nodded sagely with understanding, and then to her he asked, "So who were the three bears and are they here in Storybrooke?"

She happily satisfied his curiosity about the trappers, describing them in ways that depicted their bestial natures but kept it PG, diluting the near rape attempt to merely a thuggish beating. She concluded with, "…which is when I met Killian. He rescued me from them in all his swashbuckling glory."

Henry, who was not expecting that, gaped at Killian in shock, his eyes going big and round, as he asked disbelievingly, "Really? You knew her from Before?"

Killian smiled at him, "Aye, lad, I did," and then holding her gaze, he added, "It was one of the best things that I ever did, saving my fiery lass."

Between her swallowing and sniffles, she was able to tease, "Not that he realized that at the time."

"I beg to differ!" he protested.

"You thought I was a bloody nuisance," she fired back.

Killian opened his mouth to make another denial, but then instead he shrugged and grinned, "I did, but I soon got over that. You made yourself bloody useful, and now you're indispensable."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Henry's eyes flicker back and forth between them and a knowing and satisfied smile spread across his face. If Regina was in the room, she would no doubt be making some snarky objection to them subjecting her son to such "revolting" behavior. So out of respect for her wishes (and obviously not any other), she explained to the boy, "In exchange for defense lessons, I played tour guide for Killian who was new to the area – or at least to that century."

"Oh, so if you guys knew each other from Before, how come you didn't hang out when Killian first came to Storybrooke?"

"Because he was hell bent on killing your grandfather at the time and running around with Cora, and I didn't want to get involved," she replied matter-of-factly.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. A lot has happened since then," Henry acknowledged, making the understatement of the year. The boy slipped back into contemplative silence, clearly reviewing all that had happened in the past year. He abruptly came out of it to note, "Hey, you never told me what happened to the trappers."

Killian looked equally interested, so she quit dodging that question and reported, "They are not in Storybrooke. They didn't come over in the Curse, because they were already dead."

"Lass?" Killian asked concernedly.

When she met his questioning gaze, she knew he was silently asking if she had tracked them down after he had sailed away and finished them off herself like she had threatened to in the first days of their acquaintance.

She hadn't. Aside from certain extenuating circumstances like being locked up in a cell for a few days, someone else had already beaten her to the punch.

"The brutes had the misfortune of running across Graham while they had a cart load of wolf furs. By the power vested in him by your mother as her chief guardsman, Henry, he had them executed on the spot for violating the Queen's wolf protection decree."

Killian let out a low whistle, while Henry quietly absorbed this revelation, which is when her very late lunch arrived. It wasn't as good as Granny's Southern dishes or Tiana's Cajun specialties, but it was hearty and filling enough to satisfy a starving girl.

The best part was the Jell-O. It was green and lime-flavored and wiggling.

After slurping down her first spoonful, she opened her eyes to see Killian's face scrunched up in perplexed disgust, as he asked, "What do you find so enjoyable in that stuff?"

Smirking, she winked at the equally amused Henry and said, "It's slimy yet – "

"Yet satisfying!"

At Killian's completely lost expression, the two of them broke out into a giggle fit. When they recovered, both she and the boy attempted to explain the reference but failed miserably, which led to a discussion on what movies Henry had introduced to Killian (various versions of Peter Pan, Pirates of the Caribbean series, and Batman).

When she was told that they had yet to watch the Princess Bride, she begged Henry for the honor, which he graciously conceded. Not long after that, he left to go home and do his homework. And she, unsurprisingly, took a nap.

After her nap, Giselle, Fitz, and Ruby came to visit with her, and she got to hear of their part in her rescue. It was quite comical to hear that Reeves, the great Sheriff of the Forest, had been taken down by Giselle and her trusty frying pan.

It was a short visit though, as she was still so exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Unfortunately, Killian picked up on this too and bade his goodbyes for the night after they did, giving her hand a gentle squeeze and her forehead a feather light kiss, as he said, "'Night, love. Dream pleasant dreams."

She didn't think that would be a challenge. As frustrated as she was that they were not able to continue their 'moment' from earlier, she reveled in the knowledge that they had had a 'moment' at all.

It was highly encouraging for a damsel who was becoming increasingly infatuated with her roguish rescuer.

A/N: Thoughts? Constructive criticisms? Kind, encouraging words? Sticks and stones? Virtual chocolate chip cookies?

Next chapter: Conversations and Confrontations