21.

Emma closed the door to her home with her backside as she released a deep sigh. It had been a rough day, and that was saying something.

"Killian?" she called after a few moments of peace, wondering where both her husband and their daughter were.

A muffled reply came from the basement as Emma turned to remove her jacket and kick off her boots. "Hello love, you're home early," Killian said as he appeared from the basement door with a basket of clean laundry.

"Yeah, August sent me home…" she faded off as she turned to face her husband who gasped loudly as he tossed the basket of clean laundry aside.

"What the hell happened?" he asked, hurrying to her side.

"I'm fine, it's fine," she insisted, brushing off his concern.

"That is not fine, Swan. Have you seen yourself?" he asked, taking in her appearance. Her cheek was bruised, there was a cut along her cheek bone and her eye socket was red and swollen. All the tell tale signs that someone had punched her, hard.

"I'm okay," she brushed him off again and headed for the lounge.

"Emma, what the hell happened?" He asked again. Having followed her, he was now stood with his arms folded across his chest, waiting for her answer.

She lowered her head and was about to rub her hand over her face, before remembering it was rather tender right now. "I was...making an arrest and...the guy was rather resistant to it," she finally told him.

His eyes widened as he understood what she meant. "Some guy punched you?" he asked, loudly.

"Erm, no. He, actually he head butted me. I don't know if it was on purpose, but…" she faded off with a shrug.

"Where is this guy?" he demanded, heading for the front door.

"In custody, at the station. What are you doing?" she asked as he screwed his hook back on and grabbed his jacket. "Killian?" she chased after him to the door.

"I'm going to kill the bastard!" he replied, shrugging into his jacket.

"What? No!" she shouted and grabbed his arm. "Killian, stop...I'm fine."

He shook her off. "You keep saying that and it's not. It's not fine at all! Some guy hurt you! This complete git laid his hands on my wife and I'm going to kill him!" he hissed

"You are not going to kill anyone, Killian Jones!" she said sternly, grabbing hold of the lapels on his jacket and shaking him slightly. "Do you hear me? Do you think I want to arrest my husband for murder?" she asked him with the threat of tears in her eyes.

"No," he muttered.

"Good, because right now I just need you and our daughter needs her father, so...calm down, all right? I promise you, the 'complete git' as you call him, will get his dues. I arrested him for domestic violence and now he'll have resisting an arrest and assaulting an officer of the law on top of that. He'll be going to jail."

Killian inhaled deeply and let it out slowly as all the fight left him. Oh, he was still angry, furious in fact. How dare someone harm his wife, touch her even. He shook himself as he felt his vengeance rising again and looked into Emma's eyes, the last thing he wanted was to cause her any further distress. "Have you had this looked at?" he asked softly, barely touching her cheek with his fingertips.

Emma shrugged. "No, it's f...I'm okay," she changed her stance when she caught the perturbed look he gave her. "I just have a terrible headache."

He leant forward and kissed her forehead before removing his jacket again. "Go sit down, love," he told her as he headed for the kitchen.

Emma gratefully sank onto the sofa, closing her eyes as she rested her head against the cushion. She could hear Killian rummaging around at something in the kitchen and the taps running, so she was a little startled when he was suddenly stood before her again, rubbing her shoulder.

"Here, this might help," he said as he handed her a glass of water and some painkillers. "But if you're still in pain after you've taken these, we're going to see a doctor," he informed her in a no nonsense way. She dutifully took the medication and he took the glass from her, exchanging it for a very cold package wrapped in a dish towel. "Frozen peas," he explained with a soft smile at her inquisitive glance, "put this on your face, it might help the swelling," he told her before kissing the top of her head and returning to the kitchen.

"Thanks babe." She attempted a smile for his thoughtfulness, which quickly became a wince when she discovered that smiling hurt her cheek. After readjusting the cushions on the sofa, she sprawled out full length, resting her head and placing the make shift ice pack on her face.

He returned to her side a few minutes later and set a mug down on the coffee table. "There you go, love."

"What's that?" she asked, cracking open an eye.

"Hot cocoa. That usually makes you feel better," he added with a smile. Carefully he lifted her head from the cushion and sat down in it's place before he gently placed her head in his lap and began running his fingers gently through her hair. Emma released a small groan of gratitude. "I hate looking at you like this," he murmured after a couple of moments of quiet.

"Gee, thanks," Emma muttered in reply.

"Not that you're not always beautiful, love." He was quick to allay any misunderstanding. "I just mean I hate seeing you injured. This is one of those times that I really wish you were able to heal yourself. Doesn't seem fair that your magic only works on others."

"I know, it sucks," she mumbled and reached for a sip of her cocoa. "Is Hope still napping?" she asked then, having caught sight of the time on the clock.

"Oh, aye...she erm, we were a bit late with her nap today. We had a bit of a meltdown," he explained.

"You or the toddler?" she teased him.

"Hope, obviously," he replied, indignantly.

Emma poked her tongue out at him. "Is she okay though?" she wondered. "What happened this time?"

"She's perfectly fine. She just got upset because I wouldn't let her chew on your tampons."

"I'm sorry, what?" she asked him, wide eyed.

"Oh," he sighed, realising how that sounded. "When I was putting the stuff away that I picked up from the pharmacy, she found your box of tampons. She was having a whale of a time, unwrapping them all and then chewing on them. So obviously there was a meltdown when I took them from her. After that, she got all upset about everything," he rolled his eyes. "We had tears because I gave her the pink pacifier for her nap when apparently she wanted the blue one today."

Emma smirked and then laughed out loud, before stopping abruptly – the stark reminder that laughing and even smiling was more than a little tender on her injured cheek right now. "Ow," she whimpered and cupped her face.

Killian lowered his head and barely brushed his lips against her cheek. "That's what you get for laughing at my expense," he whispered, before kissing her lips.

She poked her tongue out at him and shifted in his lap some. "She certainly likes to keep you on your toes, anyway."

"Aye, that she does," he sighed and resumed running his fingers through Emma's hair. "If she's not awake in the next half hour, I'll go get her up," he decided. "Or else she won't sleep tonight."

Emma nodded and then closed her eyes, relaxing into his touch and the warmth of his lap.

Twenty five or so minutes later, there was a plaintive cry from above. "Dadda!" A mere few second passed before the voice called again. "Dadda! Up!"

Emma nudged him in the stomach with her elbow. "I believe that is your cue."

"Aye," he said with a groan as he slipped from beneath Emma. "I'll be back," he told her, heading for the stairs.

Killian returned down stairs with Hope in his arms, setting her down on her feet when they reached the bottom and the almost two year old began to toddle off immediately. "Hang on little lass." Killian grabbed the hood of her top and turned her around. "Look, Mummy's home," he pointed towards the couch where Emma had sat up.

"Momma!" Hope squealed and clapped her hands as she raced towards her, as fast as her tiny chubby legs could carry her. Gripping onto the seat cushion, she crawled up onto the couch beside Emma. "Hi Momma!" she said breathlessly as she fell into her arms.

"Hi baby," Emma smiled, hugging her daughter and breathing in the scent of her warmth from her nap.

"Just be gentle with your mother, Hope. She's been hurt," Killian informed her.

Hope looked up and gazed at her mom with a frown. "Ooh, owie!" she whimpered and reached towards her cheek.

"Yes, I have an owie," Emma replied, grabbing the little ones hand and kissing it before she could poke her face.

"You okay?" Killian checked.

"We're good," Emma replied, pulling Hope onto her lap.

He nodded and headed into the kitchen to fetch Hope a snack and a drink. Emma and Hope snuggled together on the couch as Emma asked her if she had a nice nap. Hope nodded and then sat up abruptly, gazing at her mom's face again. "Dadda!" she shouted. "Momma ba' aid!" she told him.

"Huh?" he looked up from chopping some fruit and turned towards them.

"Momma ba' aid!" she repeated. "I go," she said then and slid off of the couch backwards until her feet touched the floor. "Momma ba' aid. Godda owie!" Hope told her father, dancing around him in the kitchen.

"I don't know what you mean, lass. Can you show me?" he asked, crouching down to her height.

Hope pointed to the cupboard in the kitchen and then to her Mom. "Owie," she told him. "Ba' aid," she repeated the word that neither of them were understanding.

"Any idea what she's on about?" Killian asked Emma hopefully.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Emma asked her daughter.

Hope huffed and ran back to her mom. "Ba' aid, godda owie!" she pointed to her sore cheek.

"Oh," Emma nodded, getting the idea. "I think she wants you to get me a band aid for my cheek."

Despite having a mother who could easily heal any bump, cut or graze, Hope had recently become obsessed with the concept of band aids for any minor wound. All her Grandmother's fault, who had put a special, Disney themed band aid on a sore finger the last time she'd been staying with them. Hope loved the bright pictures and now faked little wounds to get one from her Grandparents at every opportunity.

"Okay," Killian answered, returning to the lounge with a bowl of chopped grapes, some sliced banana and a few dry cheerios sprinkled on top. As well as a sippy cup of milk. "Do you actually want one?" he wondered.

Emma shrugged. "If it makes her feel better. But not one of those Disney princess ones my Mom bought. That's just too weird!" she warned him as he laughed and headed for the cupboard.

"Will Olaf be acceptable?" he asked with a chuckle after rummaging through the box.

"I suppose," Emma sighed.

Killian carefully applied the band aid to the cut on Emma's cheek and kissed the top of her head. Hope clapped her hands. "Aaaall bedder!" she said, stretching out her arms as she repeated the phrase 'all better' that her grandmother said to her when dealing with any injuries.

"All better," Emma agreed and kissed Hope's cheek. "Thank you baby, now go eat your snack."

Killian sat down beside Emma, eating the rest of the banana he had opened for Hope. The toddler was sat on the floor, shovelling cheerio's into her mouth and sharing the grapes with her stuffed bunny.

"How about when she's done, we take her to the park?" Emma suggested. "She can burn off some energy after her late nap."

"Sounds good," he nodded.

"Would you like that Hope? Do you want to go to the park with Mommy and Daddy?"

"I go park!" she perked up and scampered off.

"No, no, finish your snack first. Then we can go. After the park, perhaps we can persuade daddy to let us order pizza for dinner?" Emma suggested to her daughter who was ravenously tucking into her snack now.

"Pissa?" she asked, her head swivelling around towards her mother with a slice of banana half way to her mouth. Her little eyes widened. Pizza was one of her favourite foods but not something her dad was willing to allow her to have regularly – he could be something of a health nut and didn't care for all the overly processed food in this realm.

Emma nodded. "Perhaps he might let us, since Mommy has an owie and Hope was a big girl making her feel better?" She turned her green eyes on her husband, giving him her best pleading glance as she fluttered her eyelashes playfully.

Hope joined in, scooting closer and she beamed up at him with a beatific smile. "P'ease daddy? P'ease?"

He laughed. "The pair of you ganging up on me, are you?" he sniffed. "I see what you're teaching her, Swan."

Emma just giggled as Hope climbed up onto the sofa, sippy cup in hand and offering Killian her last half of a grape as she crawled into his lap. "P'ease pissa daddy?" she asked, blinking up at him.

Killian groaned and threw his head back against the sofa cushions and said, "Fine, I know when the pair of you have worn me down. We'll order pizza."

"Yay!" Emma held her hand up to high five with Hope. "We won, baby!" she giggled.

"Yay!" Hope murmured and then stuck her sippy cup in her mouth and guzzled down her milk.

"But I'm making a salad to go with it," Killian warned.

Emma leant over and softly kissed his lips. "Wouldn't be you if you didn't. I'm going to the bathroom and then we can get ready to go, okay?" she asked getting to her feet.

"Fine," he replied. "What am I going to do with the two of you?" he asked Hope as she snuggled against him and drank greedily.

"Get pissa!" was Hope's answer.