Chapter Text
He perches on the stern of his schooner and gazes out at the orange hues of the horizon. Killian has always adored an east coast sunrise. There’s a dull ache in his head from the night prior, reminding him that all-night bingers with Will aren’t nearly as fun when you’re pushing thirty. They’re approaching the last stop of their coastal journey, a place called Storybrooke, Maine. As much as his heart belongs to the open sea, it’s refreshing to get his land legs every now and again. He rises to stretch his muscles, gently rolling his head from side to side. This last port of call will undoubtedly help steer his path in life, much like she did three years ago. His stomach rolls with waves of nausea, but he can't discern if it's from the trepidation of possibly seeing her again or merely a side effect of mixing beer and hard liquor. He calls down to his self-proclaimed first mate.
“Oye, rise and shine, you bilge rat. I need help docking the ol’ girl.” Killian hears a pained moan from Will's small makeshift cot and watches him pull the covers completely over his ears.
“Bugger off, mate. I need to sleep off this bleedin’ headache.” Killian stomps below deck, jerking the covers off of his friend.
“No, we need food. You and your alcohol-induced munchies have depleted our supplies.” He hears Will mumble something under his breath about calming down.
“You go out for food; I’m resting me eyes till noon.”
“You can do whatever the bloody hell you want after we dock my vessel.” He retreats, hoping Will will take the hint and follow suit.
“If you’d dock your vessel more often, you’d be in a better mood, Killy.” Killian forcefully chucks an empty beer can at him before Will reluctantly drags himself from his bed and agrees to assist.
They lower the sails, guiding her safely into the harbor. They're quiet as they work, with unspoken remorse for emptying an entire bottle of rum. Killian’s stomach does a nervous flip as his ship finally reaches a halt. Please be here, love. I need you.
“You’re gonna look for her, ain'tcha?” Will chirps.
“Aye, but first, I need sustenance.”
“You need a lot more than that, Cap! At least change your clothes and run a comb through your hair.” Killian sighs, loathe admitting that Will has a point. If Emma is indeed in this town, he wants to look his best. He glances in the mirror. Three years. There's no doubt that the passage of time has been kind to him. His body is solid and fit, with added lean muscle from days in the shipyard. His skin has a healthy glow, and his hair isn’t as shaggy. With the exception of this sailing adventure with Will Scarlet, he’s abstained from almost all alcohol consumption. This morning, he decides on a casual look, opting for linen shorts and a solid tee. He would never admit to anyone that he keeps the clothing that Emma bought him in his closet, a token that someone once cared deeply for him. Those few scraps of fabric were his only worldly possessions for a while. Despite a rough start, he's genuinely done well for himself the past few years. He's held a steady job that he truly loves, earning him the reputation of being a highly sought-after shipwright in Boston. He's managed to save nearly all of his earnings, leaving him with a pretty substantial bank account as well. He has many friends and an excellent relationship with his remaining living relatives. From the outside, Killian Jones truly has his act together, but inside, he's missing one critical piece to his life puzzle. That piece has blonde hair, emerald eyes, and a sailor's mouth.
His musings lead him off the ship and into the sleepy port town. He stumbles upon a little diner called Granny’s. He indulges in a full plate of greasy breakfast food served by a sweet girl named Ashley. It’s not his usual breakfast of choice but damn, this hangover. The girl winks and puts her number on the back of the ticket. He tucks it in his back pocket and winks back at her. He'll throw it away, but no sense in being a total prig. He almost asks her about the Nolan family but chickens out.
He finds that Storybrooke is very quiet. There are little shops lining the streets, and everyone he passes has a friendly wave and a smile. It's almost hard for him to imagine his Emma settling down here. She's vibrant and full of life, a contradiction to the doldrums of this small coastal town. He finds a quaint bookstore and makes a purchase before plopping on a bench near a well-used hiking trail. He is on page 26 of his new book, completely immersed in the plot when he feels a light tug on his shorts. He peeks over his book to see a tiny wisp of a girl, barely two years old. Cute little thing. She twirls her dark wavy hair around her finger, and her bright blue eyes look up at him expectantly.
“May I help you, little lass?” She reaches out her arms to him as if she wants to be lifted.
“Daddy?” Killian scratches his head and looks around.
“Noo…?”Why is this child alone?
“Up?” She looks at him again, and he’s tempted to scoop her up, but the last thing he needs is a black eye from this child’s father. Before Killian can answer, a familiar sandy blonde man frantically grabs her hand.
“Hope! Thank God! Don’t run away from me like that! You stay with me at all times and never talk to strangers.” Graham has a child? It takes several moments for the deputy to notice him, but he sees the moment the recognition snaps into place.
“Oh!” Graham’s initial shock turns into a smile as Killian rises to embrace him. “Killian Jones! You look good. What brings you into town?” He claps him on the shoulder.
“Oh, you know, just sailing the coast.” He scratches behind his ear. He knows exactly why you're here.
“Don't lie! You came to find her, didn’t you?” Killian lowers his head with embarrassment.
“Aye. Is-is she here?” He nervously fidgets with his earlobe while holding his breath. Please say yes.
“Of course. She’s my best deputy.” Thank the Gods.
“Oh! That would make you….”
“You’re looking at Storybrooke’s finest.” Graham puffs his chest out for emphasis.
“Congratulations, sheriff.” Killian looks down at the child and makes a painful inference. “So are you and Emma…” He flicks his index finger between Graham and the girl until he realizes he's impersonating a windshield wiper. Graham laughs.
“Friends. Just friends. Let’s just say Emma's not my type.” He winks, and Killian vaguely remembers her hinting at something between their favorite federal agent and Storybrooke sheriff.
“Daddy.” The girl tugs on his shorts again.
“I see you’ve met Hope. Precocious, this one! I blame her father entirely. Forgive me, mate; I have to run and get her back to her mum." He scoops up the child and shakes Killian's hand once more. "Oh, Emma’s at the station today if you want to stop by.”
“Thanks. Your daughter is adorable, by the way.”
“She’s not mine, but thanks. Her mum works her ass off, and her papa left before she was born. I help out when I can. Good to see you, Killian.”
After they leave, Killian is completely rattled, making a task as mundane as reading nearly impossible. He’s never had much experience with kids, but surely it’s unusual for one to abruptly identify you as her father. He still thinks of nothing else when he’s lying in bed that night listening to Will’s snores. Something about that girl pulled at his heartstrings. What kind of cold-hearted son of a bitch could abandon that sweet child? Then again, that didn’t stop his father all of those years ago. For hours he lies awake, allowing his memory to drift to his childhood. He wakes to the sound of Will arguing with someone above deck.
“I’m sorry, son. Without a permit, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” The voice is distinctly Graham’s, but why is he so upset?
“What kind of bloody racket is this?” Will shouts dramatically.
“Don’t make me take you in” What the hell, Humbert? He pulls on a shirt before joining Will on deck.
“What seems to be the trouble, sheriff?” Killian asks.
“I’m giving you boys an hour to get a permit to park at our docks, or you need to set sail.” The sheriff removes his sunglasses and crosses his arms. The look he gives them is nothing short of menacing.
“We’ll bloody set sail then,” Will spits. Graham is downright pissed as he reaches into his back pocket.
“Fine.” The sheriff pulls out a pad and writes them a ticket, waving it around before slapping it down on the side of the vessel. “This is for illegal overnight docking. Make sure to pay it in full at the station before leaving town. If you hurry, you can catch my (cough) deputy before she makes her rounds.” He raises an eyebrow at Killian. Sneaky bastard, this is one way to get him to the station.
“Ooh, I love women with authority; sounds sexy.” Killian rolls his eyes at Will's ill-timed joke.
“Will, keep your bloody trap closed, will ya?" Killian pleads.
“Aye, Cap!” He gives him a salute and tromps below deck.
“Get in; I’ll give you a ride, Mr. Jones.” He gestures to the passenger's side of the cruiser.
“Thanks, mate.”
The ride to the station is uncomfortably quiet until the sheriff starts his lecture, and then Killian swears he’s never heard an Irishmen sound so intimidating. “I never took you for a complete chicken shit! You didn’t even have the bollox to find her yesterday.”
“I wasn’t ready. The nerves got the best of me.”
“Piss off with your nerves, mate! That woman hasn’t had it easy the past three years, and you owe her more than a hello after disappearing like that.”
“I didn’t-”
“Not finished!” Graham runs his hands through his hair, and Killian can see his jaw tick from the passenger seat of the cruiser. “She means a lot to me, Jones. They-they both do. If you dare break her heart again, I’ll cut off your fucking hand. Do we understand each other?”
“Aye. Wait, both?”
“I’ll put you out of your misery and tell you she still loves you, but you’ve got some work to do if you want her back.” She still loves me.
“You know I want to be in her life, Graham. I just had to-”
“Spare me the details of personal growth and better man nonsense. You didn't watch her cry herself to sleep for months on end. Hell, she still does from time to time, if I'm being honest. I was so relieved to see you yesterday because you were finally going to man up. It's time to stop pussing out, mate!" Ouch! "We’re here.” Killian looks out the passenger window, and the first thing he sees is a beat-up yellow bug. The reality of the situation hits him with the force of a piano being dropped onto his head. His heart stops before beating out of his chest. He has thought of her every day for three long years, but time has muted several things about her. Now, every tiny detail of her comes flooding back to him. Her smile, her smell, the way she twirls hair, the way she tastes, the way she feels when… shit!
“Killian?”
“Aye?”
“Get the fuck out of my cruiser.” For a moment, Killian considers teasing him about his language and Emma rubbing off on him, but he holds his tongue and exits the vehicle. His feet are impossibly heavy as he trudges the stairs of the sheriff’s station, the fear of rejection weighing heavily on his conscience, nearly compelling him back down. This is it. This is real.
He hears her voice before he sees her. “Graham, you're back already? You really shouldn’t heckle tourists like that. We both know the permits are bullshit." He rounds the last corner of the staircase to see her hovering over her desk, perusing some paperwork. "I’m going to make my rounds soon. I’m thinking pizza for dinner tonight.” She fully stands and turns to face the door. She drops her coffee mug when their eyes meet, and it crashes to the tile floor in a million ceramic pieces. Her hands fly to her mouth, and she stares wildly in disbelief.
“Killian? Wha-what are you doing here?” Her sparkly green eyes well up with tears, from shock or emotion he can’t be sure. His instincts urge him to hold her close, but he remains glued to his spot, unsure of the reaction it would elicit.
“I’m on vacation with Will. Belle is a few months pregnant, you see, and he wants to “see the world” before becoming a father, which translates to us sailing my ship up and down the east coast and drinking copious amounts of alcohol. I made Storybrooke our last stop. To see you.”
“I see. You own a ship?” She grabs a nearby broom and haphazardly sweeps up the chips of her broken mug.
“Aye, she’s a beauty. Though, she earned me this citation from your less than amiable sheriff.” He waves the ticket in the air. She snorts and retrieves the ticket from his hand, their fingertips brushing in the process, sending tingles down his body. Emma pulls away quickly, ripping the ticket into pieces and tossing it in the trash. Killian grabs the dustpan and helps her clean up the ceramic disaster to harness his nervous energy. She smiles and thanks him, but not before he notices her trembling hands. She's nervous. How could he have let this wonderful woman disappear from his life? She is living breathing sunshine.
“I-uh followed the trial. They threw the book at Neal, didn’t they?”
“Aye, love. They certainly did. I'm just thankful I didn't have to testify." She walks away to return the broom as he bounces in the balls of his feet. "You look beautiful; the years have been kind to you.” She blushes.
“You look-” He knows he looks infinitely better than their last meeting, but there is no room for swagger in this conversation.
“Please don’t say homeless.” He shoots her what he hopes is a boyish grin.
“No, you look really good.” He takes a step forward. Now or never, Jones.
“Emma, I-” A door opens from across the station, startling him.
“Mama, I went potty.” He looks down to see the little lass from the park. Her mum works her ass off. That mum is Emma.
“Swan, you have a child.”
“I do. Her name is Hope. And we’re potty training. Mom and dad are out of town, so Graham and I are tag-teaming babysitting duties while performing full-time jobs.”
“She’s lovely. I saw her with the good sheriff yesterday. How old?”
“She turned two in February. So, um, yeah, it turns out we had a little stowaway on our road trip.” Out with it, Jones, rip it off, like a Band-Aid.
“Is she mine?” He tries to hide the hopeful tone in his voice, but he knows his eyes are betraying him.
“No.” And with one word, that flicker of hope and possibility is extinguished.
“Oh.” Fuck, she's Neal's. Of bloody course she is.
“Does Neal know about her?” Emma is taken aback by his question.
“Hell no!” She never told him?
“I’m sorry you’ve had to raise her alone.”
“Yeah, well, it hasn’t been easy, but I’ve managed. Excuse me for a minute, and I need to help her wash her hands.” He paces around the station until the pair emerges once again.
“Swan, what time is your lunch break? I’d love to sit and catch up.”
“Killian, I’ve missed you, and I’d love to catch up, but it’s not just me now. Hope and I are a package deal. So, any misguided wooing attempts are going to be for naught.”
“That’s fine, Swan. I’d never ask you to abandon your flesh and blood for a man. I want to get to know both of you.”
“You do?"
"Of course. The lass may be a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. I guess I should ask if you're single before I take some guy's wife out." She snorts and sits the girl in her office chair, handing her a container of little orange crackers.
"Yes, I'm single. It's just Hope and me. Boys suck!" She wrinkles her nose in faux disgust, and he chuckles.
"We do, admittedly. But, I told you three years ago that I would return to you, even if it’s just as your friend. So, here I am." There, was that so hard? "You can think on it, Swan.” He bends down to Hope's level and kisses the back of her tiny hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, little lass. I'm Killian. I'm friends with your mommy." She giggles and offers him a cracker. He takes it and turns to leave the sheriff’s station, casting a smirk at her.
“Killian?”
“Mhm?”
“Can two people really be friends if well, you know?” He turns and sees a genuine smile on her face. She runs to him, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing their bodies together from head to toe. “I’ve missed you so much, Killian.” Her breath tickles his ear, sending butterflies sailing through his body. He takes a moment to breathe her in, squeezing her tight, and never wanting to let her go. For a moment, he thinks of kissing her but exercises restraint and finds contentment in simply holding her.
“I’ve missed you too, love.” Graham is right; you're a coward. She is the first to pull away.
“My shift ends at 11:00 if you want to meet Hope and me at Granny’s.” He looks over her shoulder at the little girl playing at her mother’s desk, then back at Emma's eyes. Before he can answer, they are startled apart by Graham's appearance.
“Your shift ends now, deputy. It’s Friday. Get out of here.”
"Thank you!" She kisses Graham on the cheek and whispers something in his ear before grabbing her purse and taking her daughter's hand. Moments later, It is surreal for him to find himself in the passenger seat of the tin can again. With the uncomfortable way he has to squeeze into the passenger seat, he swears his legs have grown, or the car has shrunk. Even the toddler strapped into her car seat appears to be cramped.
“Swan. This is a terrible family vehicle. The little lass doesn’t look comfortable at all.” Emma scoffs and glances at her daughter through the rearview.
“The little lass shoves peas up her nose; she doesn’t get a vote in transportation matters.” He laughs, relishing how good it feels to be in her presence again and how quickly they're at ease with one another.
“I’m actually surprised she’s not named Emma Jr.”
“Yeah, the nurses at the hospital talked me out of it.” When she turns the wheel, he catches a glimpse of her wrist tattoo, smiling from the memory of those first declarations of love. She catches him staring, and he turns his attention to the road ahead of them.
“Did you get any more these past three years, love?”
“What? Tattoos? Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teases.
“Love, I most definitely would.” She shakes her head at his term of endearment.
“No, I didn't. Did you?”
“Aye.”
“Shut up! You did not!” She playfully smacks his arm.
“Did too. I've become quite fond of the process. Though, I'd have to remove some clothing to reveal their locations.”
“Hmm. Raincheck, Jones.” Her cheeks blush, unintentionally revealing her attraction towards him, even after all this time. The three of them park the bug and walk into the same diner as Killian did yesterday. Ashley spies him immediately and saunters up to him.
“Hi handsome, are you back for more?” She touches his bicep, and Emma steps in between them with a look that screams mine.
“Oh, deputy Nolan. I see you’ve met our new visitor." The girl pauses with a furrowed brow. "Wait! Is this?”
“How I know Killian is none of your business, Ashley. We'd like to be seated at a back booth, please.”
“Yes, ma'am." She grabs a few menus and joins them at the booth with three glasses of water. "What can I get you?”
“I’ll have a grilled cheese with onion rings, and Hope would like your mac n cheese.”
"And for you, handsome?"
“I’ll just have a cheeseburger and fries, lass.” She departs, leaving the trio on their own. Emma sips nervously on her straw, avoiding his eyes. He gently coaxes her into an easy conversation—the weather in Maine, the history of the little diner, hell, even sailboats. When the tension leaves her shoulders, he presses on with a deeper question.
“Who did she think I was, love?” She takes a deep breath, finally brave enough to meet his gaze.
“People around here are always speculating about Hope’s father. I was the town gossip for quite some time. Single girl, small town, not a father in sight, it was quite a scandal. Only a handful of people know the truth, and I'd like to keep it that way.”
“I’m sorry about that, Emma. If I would’ve been here….”
“People would've talked, just maybe a little less. But you weren’t here. You were off doing your soul searching.” A tinge of bitterness in her voice cuts him to the bone.
“I should’ve stayed by your side.” I was wrong. Please forgive me.
“No, you made the right choice. At the time, we weren’t in the right mental state. We wouldn’t have been good for each other, not to mention the added challenge of raising a baby."
"At least you wouldn't have had to bear that burden alone. I would've taken responsibility for her, regardless of her lineage." Emma coughs as Ashley approaches again with their food. As she leaves, Emma leans in to whisper to him.
"You would've raised a child that wasn't yours?"
"I still would." He reaches his hand across the table and squeezes her hand. She places her own on top of it.
"It's so surreal being here with you. I didn't think I'd ever see you again, Killian."
"Can you forgive me for leaving, Emma?"
"Before I had her, I would've said no. I was so bitter and jaded. Having Hope changed my perspective on things." She drops her hands to pop an onion ring into her mouth and lean over to assist Hope with her bib.
"How so, Emma?"
"Well, I put myself in your shoes. If I were in a dark place and not capable of being a good mother to Hope, I would find the strength to do what's best for her, no matter what. Love isn't selfish, is it?"
"No, it's not." They finish their meal, with Hope chattering on beside them. Killian smiles at the domesticity of the moment. I can do this. I'm ready for this stage of my life.
"So, how is the threesome king of Miami faring these days?" Killian chokes on his water at her blunt question.
“I'm a Boston man again, but I've abdicated my throne." She laughs out loud, and it's music to his ears. "Seriously though, I was admittedly in a pretty dark place for at least a year. A trip to England helped. I got to spread Liam’s ashes and forgive myself for all the poor decisions I had made. Tack on three years of therapy, a great job, and healthy living, and I've chased that darkness away."
“Ducks!” Hope startles him with her declaration.
“Uh, this is a cheeseburger, little one. It's a cow.” Emma laughs at them with a dreamy look in her eye.
“Hope wants to know if you want to go to the duck park.”
“Ah! That makes more sense. What does a duck say, little lass?”
“Wack, wack!”
“She’s brilliant, Emma.”
"Well, yeah! Have you seen her mother?" Killian pays for the meal, and they walk to a nearby duck park after lunch. Emma grabs his hand, and his heart swoops like a teenager in love. Now that he’s found her, he’s never letting her go again. Hope toddles off toward a small pond.
“Wait, little lass!” While he would gladly wade in after her, he'd prefer to stay dry.
“She’s fine. She knows where to stop. I’m afraid there’s no slowing her down when water’s involved. She especially loves to watch the boats in the harbor.”
“A girl after my own heart. Would she like to see mine sometime?”
“I sure would. I've waited years to see your dinghy.” Emma locks eyes with him, obviously holding in her laughter, and he feels it, that unmistakable desire that has always surrounded them. He wants her, all of her. Yes, there’s a current of underlying lust, but there’s more. She is his happy ending, his true love, the only woman he wants to cherish and spend his life with. Right now, though, he's loathed to admit he's fighting the urge to take her against the nearest tree. Damn hormones!
“Feed the ducky!” The little girl takes his hand and leads him to a feeder of duck pellets as he fishes a quarter out of his pocket.
“I thought feeding wild animals was bad because they become dependent upon humans, Swan?”
“It’s too late for these ducks; they’re practically pets at this point.” He stands to dust his pants, and the tiny brunette reaches for his hand once more, smiling at him. She leads him to the edge of the pond and shows him how to toss the pellets to the ducks. She squeals and claps her hands. Killian realizes what a lost cause he is. Genetics be damned; he already loves this wonderful little extension of the blonde who captured his heart all those years ago. He looks back to smile at said blonde, but she isn’t returning one. Instead, she almost looks sad as she turns to sit on a concrete bench.
“Hope, it appears we’re out of food. Let’s check on mommy, aye?” The girl lifts her hands, silently asking him to pick her up, so he does. She’s so small and fragile, but so pure of heart. When she wraps her arms around his neck, he’s officially a goner. He vows to be a proper father figure to this child, in a way he and Liam never had.
“Love, are you alright?” He places Hope on the bench next to her mother.
“Yes? No? I need to tell you something.”
“Go ahead.” She stands and faces him. He can’t help but wipe her wet cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.
“I-I...I, well..."
"Go on, love."
"I'm so happy you're here, Killian.” There's more she wants to say, he knows when she's holding back, but he doesn't push.
“Me, too.” He lovingly strokes her cheeks with his knuckles.
“You’re here now; you came back for me. And you’re so different. I mean, parts are the same, but the storm inside you has calmed. You’re at peace, aren’t you?”
“You make it seem as if I’m dead, darling!”
“No, I mean, don't get me wrong, you’re still handsome as hell, but you’ve lost that bad boy edge. No bravado.”
“I’ve grown up. Had to happen sometime, right?” She runs her thumb across his forearm, tracing his compass tattoo.
“Do you want to go out tonight? I can get a sitter for Hope.” He kisses the back of her hand. "You can bring her too, you know."
"No, it needs just to be the two of us."
"Meet me at the docks at 6:00 pm, then.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“William! I told you that I need you off this vessel at 6:00; what in the seven hells are you still doing down there?”
“I'm getting me phone. What in the bloody hell else am I supposed to do while you’re fucking?" Will emerges from below deck. "If there's any consolation, at least you won't last long, being a monk and all.” Killiaweren'td would slap him into next week if he weren't his best friend.
“Gods, you’re a cretin! I don’t plan on doing anything; we’re just sailing.”
“Uh-huh.” Will raises his eyebrows repeatedly.
“Don’t give me that look. She has a daughter to think about. I promise you that sex is not on her mind.” At least, I don't think so.
“She’s a single mom, Killian. Sex will be the only thing on her mind.” Cripes! What if he's right?
“Actually, she’s wondering what your wife sees in you.” Both men stare in horror as she approaches the gangplank. “Hello, Will.”
“Aye, well, that's my cue. You two kids be safe, clean up after yer selves.” Killian can only roll his eyes as Will exits, leaving him alone with Emma.
“Sorry about him, welcome aboard The Swan, lass.” He gingerly takes her hand and guides her to the deck.
“Geez, that’s tacky.” He feigns shock and gently strokes the side of his vessel.
"It's okay, baby. The blonde lady didn't mean it." Emma places her hands on her hips, and he takes in her appearance. She's always had the ability to make his mouth water. From her sun-kissed legs to her delightfully short shorts to her delicious pink lips, he finds himself a little excited. No, you don't, you cad. Think of Will naked. The way she's looking at him suggests the feelings might be mutual. Bloody hell, I might get laid! He shakes away his lust-addled thoughts and finds that Emma knows her way around a ship with minimal instruction. In minutes they're sailing out to sea. They travel a mile or so out before sitting on the bow, dangling their feet off the side. They engage in light conversation, and Killian brings out a picnic basket of snacks for them. They joke, tease, and reminisce on their time spent on the road.
“I've got to hand it to you, Jones; this is a pretty romantic date. I'll bet you bring all the girls to your vessel for a one-night visit.” He knows she's fishing for information, but he doesn't mind. He places his hand over his heart.
“I’m offended." He takes her hand and squeezes lightly. "My darling, I have not had a one-night stand since before I met you. I don’t do that shite anymore.”
“You, you haven’t?” See, I'm a good man.
“That’s right; I haven’t!" His conscience is clear, but Emma looks quite sheepish. "Wait, have you!?"
"Maybe." She wrinkles her nose. Of course, she's been with other men; she's a Goddess. He waits for the jealous bone to kick in, but it never does. Instead, he finds himself curious to learn of all the adventures she's had the past three years.
"Emma Nolan, you hussy. It appears we've switched places. Where? When?"
"It's not important. It was only a couple of times. It made me feel dirty afterward, wrong, even." She locks eyes with him, and he swears she can see through his soul. She feels guilty like she betrayed me. He places his hand on her upper thigh and feels her quick intake of breath. Will was right; she wanted me. Keep talking, don't just stare.
"Well, it took me a full fifteen months to even date again, and when I did, they turned out badly. Turns out, women only want one thing from me, and it’s not a healthy monogamous relationship.”
“Oh yeah, and what is that, sailor?” He tucks a blonde lock behind her ear. She leans in closer to him, and he can feel the heat radiating from her body and smell the citrus from her shampoo. She's intoxicating, but he has to keep his wits about him, especially when the word sailor leaves her lips. So many illicit memories are connected to this simple two-syllable word that he not so subtly adjusts his shorts.
“Gods, I missed you calling me that. You’re the only person who does.” You just sound needy. Stop it! He twirls a strand of her hair around his finger. “I did seriously date one woman, though. She was a chatty redhead. I told her I wanted to hold off on full physical intimacy, and she was fine with that because she was just out of a failed marriage. A few months in, I could feel her getting antsy. I cared for her, but I just wasn’t ready. I asked for more time that she wasn’t willing to give. So, I plunged myself into my ship, instead.” He grins.
“Nice euphemism.”
“I knew you’d appreciate that.” He winks.
“So, are you telling me that you haven’t been with a woman in over three years? I don’t believe that.” Gods, it feels like so much longer.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I have the calluses on my wrist to prove it.” He holds up his right palm for her to inspect.
“Wow, there you are. And you’ve done it again; no one can divert a conversation quite like you. What point was I making?” She's making this too easy.
“You were telling me how handsome I am and how badly you want me.” He leans in to whisper in her ear, leaving goosebumps on her neck. Fuck!
“I don’t think that was it.” She pulls away, but only slightly.
"And you also mentioned my superior sexual prowess." He boldly nuzzles her neck with his nose. It would be easy, too damn easy, to press his lips to her neck.
"Huh, don't remember that, either." She turns to face him with a fuckstruck look, and he has to pull back before he devours her. "Your ship is lovely, Killian; how long have you had her?"
"This was among Liam's assets. He rescued her from a scrap heap and was going to surprise me with her before, well, you know. She became my project after I returned from England."
"You restored this yourself? That's incredible!" He beams with pride and pulls out his phone to show her before and after pictures. He gets so immersed in his storytelling that he barely notices her index finger tracing lazy circles on his thigh. She abruptly coughs and jerks her finger away when he does notice, promptly changing the subject. "And you have a phone!" She gestures to the device in his hand, and he smiles sadly.
"Yes, and I would've killed to have just one picture of you on it." She takes the phone and opens the camera, snapping a few pictures of them together before entering her number into his contacts. I wonder if she'd notice if I stepped away to have a wank? It would only take a moment.
"What would you have done if I hadn't lived here anymore?"
"I'm sure that blonde lass at the diner could have been coerced out of information on your whereabouts," he replies calmly.
"You could probably coerce her out of a lot more than that." This time Emma leans into him, and bloody hell, he can feel her warm breath on his neck. "She has a weakness for handsome men." He turns his head ever so slightly so that their noses are brushing.
"What about you?" Gods, you sound desperate, mate. His pulse accelerates rapidly as she brings her palm to the scruff of his jawline, scratching her fingers through it. He swears he hears a whimper from her, and he knows his resolve is fading.
"I have a weakness for you, Killian." Fuck it! He grins like a maniac as he leans forward and captures her lips. Her lips are soft yet demanding, and as she lightly nibbles on his lower lip, he readily responds. The moment her tongue begins to dance with his, the whole damn powder keg explodes. He growls and pulls her roughly onto his lap, his hands finding purchase on her backside as she sucks on his pulse point, no doubt marking him as her own. Impossibly hard doesn't even begin to describe his state as Emma's kisses become ravenous. He refuses to give her the upper hand. He cards his fingers through her hair, pulling hard to expose the glorious expanse of her neck as she writhes against him. His lips caress every available inch of skin until finding purchase on her kiss swollen lips once more. Everything feels so familiar but new at the same time. He can't get enough of her, and when her dainty fingers begin exploring inside the front of his drawstring shorts, he takes a ragged breath. Of course, she hears it and has to encourage him for more. "Do you like that, Killian?"
"Fuck, yes! But, you have to stop before I spill myself into your hand."
"I wouldn't mind." He growls and lays her back on the deck of this ship, settling a leg between her thighs. She grinds against him, desperate for relief. And in an instant, they have become horny teenagers dry humping on the deck of his beloved ship. His hand inches its way up her shirt, and she sits up to remove it. When she tosses it aside, she is horrified when she hears a distinct splash. “Did I just throw my only shirt in the fucking ocean?” He laughs a deep laugh that rumbles his chest, and she presses her palm to it with a look of concern.
“You do realize my ribs have been healed for years, right?” He presses a sweet kiss to her hand.
“Sorry, old habits die hard. So, does this mean you’re 100%?”
“Do you want to see?”
“Hell, yes!” She pulls him to a standing position and hastily jerks his button-up from his body, throwing it to the left instead of the ocean. She unabashedly stares for a moment before removing her jean shorts. Now it’s his turn to stare. Her feminine curves are more pronounced, her breasts and thighs fuller, and there’s a slight rounding to her abdomen. Perfection. She blushes as he gazes at her.
“You’re truly a wonder, Emma.”
“Your turn, sailor.” He removes his shorts and undershirt, leaving only his tented boxer briefs.
“Oh, come on! Seriously?! I get stretch marks, and you get ripped? How is that fair?” He laughs. “No, I’m serious. I’m putting my shorts back on.” She bends over to pick them up, but he beats her to it.
“You mean these shorts?” He dangles them from his finger off the side of the ship.
“You wouldn’t dare!” She lunges for them, and he holds them above his head. She presses her body against him in a retrieval attempt, and he kisses her soundly. "You do realize we're in public, right, Jones?"
"We're in the middle of the ocean; it's a far cry from public picnic tables." She flushes a bright shade of red.
"I was insane!" She buries her face in her hands.
"You were lovely; you still are." He takes her by the hand. "Follow me." He leads her down the stairs, and she sees a full-sized bed. "If you'd allow it, I'd like to show you how lovely you are." He moves forward and places his hands on her hips.
“Killian, wait! I want you; I do, it’s just-”
“Too fast?” Shit! You've cocked this up!
“No! Not at all; I didn’t exactly bring a condom with me. Do you have one?” He looks sheepish.
“No.” She traces his newest ink, Liam's name, and birthdate, on his right shoulder, most likely to preoccupy her nerves.
“Fuck, I’m an idiot. I didn’t want to be presumptuous. I should've known that being alone with you would lead to sex.”
"Woah, woah, woah! Emma, I want us to be more than physical. I want to build a life with you. I've no problem taking my time. Let me grab you a shirt." He goes to his closet, and on top of a folded pile of clothes lies a sealed envelope that says Use Me. He opens it up and discovers it's filled with condoms. “That son of a bitch!” That's what he was doing down here.
“Who?”
“Will. Apparently, he didn’t trust us to make good choices.” The smug bastard was right.
“Given our track record, I wouldn’t trust us either. What does the note say?"
"It says, Clean up when you're done and stay off me cot! XOXO Will."
"Wow. Remind me to thank him." Emma cups his cheeks and kisses him tenderly. He pulls her hips flush against his own and kisses down her neck and onto her collarbone. She pushes him away briefly to remove the rest of her clothing.
"Emma, we don't have to do anything."
"I want to! If you stick around, our moments alone are going to be few and far between, believe me." She kisses down his chest, but he stops her dainty fingers before they reach his waistband.
"What do you mean, if? I'm not leaving you, Emma. This isn't just a weekend visit to Maine. I want a real relationship with you. I want to help you raise Hope." Emma freezes with a reverent look.
"You, do? Killian, I've made a mess of things. You have to know that."
"What I know is that in three years my feelings for you haven't changed. You are everything to me. I've spent the past few years trying to be a better man for you so that I could take care of you, so you'd be proud of me."
"Are you done yet, sailor?"
"There's always room for self-improvement, but overall, I'd say I'm done. Why?"
"Because I'd like you to make love to me now."
"Aye.” He grabs her bottom, pulling her legs around his waist, and she squeaks in surprise. He carries her to the bed and plops her down while he removes his last piece of clothing.
"Don't set your expectations too high; I'm out of practice." She giggles, and it's music to his ears. "Ladies first?" He hovers above her and slinks down her body, leaving wet kisses as he travels.
"No. I just want you."
"A few kisses hardly constitutes foreplay-" She takes his hand and places it between her thighs, moaning at the contact.
"Does it feel like I need foreplay?"
"No, you feel bloody perfect." He hikes up her leg without preamble and gives a firm forward thrust. They both release the same expletive when he's fully seated within her. Moving inside her feels like coming home. Her body is warm and soft, and the way she's gazing at him through hooded eyes undoubtedly mirrors his affection. He wanted to exude confidence, showing her his full prowess for the first time. Instead, he turns into a blubbering idiot after only a few thrusts.
“I love you, Emma. You feel so perfect wrapped around me. You're it for me; you're all I'll ever bloody need.”
“You're mine, Killian. Fuck, I love you!” He feels too much in this moment, triggering the familiar tingle in his spine, signaling his impending peak.
"Shit! Love, where do you want me to finish? I never put the condom on." His thrusts become erratic as he holds himself back from the precipice.
"Inside me. Please. Just this once." His brain wants to double-check with her, but his cock has other plans as he promptly empties his seed deep within her. It's hard for him to catch his breath as he collapses on the bed next to her. He can feel his whole body shake. Bollocks! I haven't had the shivers since I was a teen. Emma notices immediately.
"Hey, are you ok? You're shaking. Are you cold?" He whispers no to her and bites down on his lip to keep it from quivering. "Killian, your whole body is trembling."
"I'll be ok, I promise. It's just the shivers." She gives him a knowing smile, softly kisses his lips, and holds him close. "Emma, do you want to talk-"
"No. It's fine. I swear I'm clean; you're the only person I've been with like that."
"I'm talking about the other (cough) risk."
"Yeah, it was taking a chance, but I don't regret it, do you?" He sakes his head and snuggles closer to her. His body starts to calm down, and his heart rate returns to normal. He looks into her eyes and smiles.
"So, it's two down three to go then?" It takes her a minute to catch on before she grabs a fistful of his hair and pulls.
"You are so not funny, Jones!"
"At this rate, I'm going to need a bigger boat." In retaliation, she clocks him on the head with a pillow, and he clunks his over her head. The ships sways to and fro as they chase each other around the small cabin, slapping each other with their feathered weapons and laughing hysterically until he catches her by the waist.
"You owe me, sailor!" She pokes him on the chest with her finger.
"You're right; I do. C'mere, love." He backs her up to the bed and not so gently pushes her upon it. He's sure he looks feral as he goes straight to the source of her pleasure and makes love to her with his mouth.
"That can't be pleasant; you have to taste yourself."
"The only thing I taste is you, darling, and you taste wonderful. Now, lay back and let me enjoy myself." She must be wound tighter than he realized because moments later, she's falling apart beneath his tongue. Of course, this leads to another round of intercourse, but this time he gets to show off his full prowess, taking her hard and fast. After, when they're panting and spent, they find comfort in each other's arms. I could do this forever...if she'll have me. He vaguely registers her phone ringing and a frantic voice on the other end. All mirth drains from her face.
"We'll be right there, Graham."
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Killian enters her parents' home to the sounds of a wailing child and a frazzled Graham.
“Thank God you’re home! She went into full-on toddler mode about an hour ago, and I can’t get her to pick up without screaming bloody murder. She threw everything I tried to feed her on the ground except the crackers. Oh, and she had two bathroom accidents. On purpose."
“I'm sorry, Graham. Hope, it’s time for bed; we have to put our crayons away!” She rolls them and her sippy cup off the table instead.
“No, momma!” Emma is frustrated and embarrassed by her child's behavior.
“Hope J- just stop it!” Obviously not used to her mother raising her voice, Emma's reprimand leaves Hope in hysterical sobs. At that moment, the oven timer decides to go off as well.
“Were you cooking, Graham?” Emma barks. He hastily exits to the kitchen.
“Yes, I was baking her some bloody cookies. I was desperate, and I thought the bribery would help.” Killian feels helpless as he watches from the doorway.
“May I help, love?” She scoops up her toddler and pushes her into Killian's arms.
“Here, go to Killian while I get a rag. Grandma will be pi-ticked off if we ruin another rug.” Killian takes the sobbing child and tucks her against his chest. He’s awkward at first but settles into a gentle sway. He rhythmically pats her back and starts to hum a sea shanty. She nestles snugly against the soft fabric of his tee-shirt, and her sobbing gradually dissolves into sniffles. She is small and warm in his arms and smells like baby lotion. For a moment, he can picture her as an infant, and it makes his heart ache with endless what-ifs.
“See, little lass, everything is fine. Let’s pick up those crayons, aye?” He puts her down momentarily and sits down on the couch while he holds the box for her. Her tiny fingers place in one at a time. When she's finished, she climbs back into his lap.
"Stand up, daddy." He does as he's asked, and they resume their earlier stance. He feels her relax in his arms, and soon her breathing evens out. He snuggles her closer and whispers softly. "You know, little lass, I'm not your daddy, but I could be one day." He walks by a mirror to discover the girl is indeed asleep. He tenderly brushes her dark curls out of her face and tucks them behind her ear, her perfect little elf ear. His body stiffens, and his blood runs cold. Bloody hell! Is she? He notices Emma standing in the doorway with an incredulous look on her face, and he has to school his features.
“Traitor. I carry you for nine months, feed you, clothe you, and you trade me in for a big strong man.”
“You forgot handsome, love.”
“Right. There’s that. I’m going to walk Graham out. I’ll be right back, Killian. Make yourself at home.” He walks around the room. There are pictures of her parents, of Emma as a child, and they morph into a story of Hope. There is a beautiful picture of Emma pregnant and sitting by a window, making him sick with want. I could’ve been there with her. We could’ve had our own home. He sees a pink book sitting on the mantle in front of him, and he can’t help but pick it up. Hope’s baby book. He shuffles her to his left shoulder, propping up her petite body with his forearm so he can open it.
Hope Alice Jones
Born: February 10th at Storybrooke Memorial Hospital
Weight: 7lbs 3oz
He closes the book as if it’s burned his fingers and scratches the ginger scruff of his beard. It can’t be… He looks down at the girl nestled next to him, desperately scanning each feature for a glimpse of his genetics. He is hit with many new thoughts. You abandoned her, you git. You possibly left Emma pregnant and alone to raise your child. He is startled by a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turns to meet her eyes. Conflicting emotions are swirling inside of him, but he manages yet again to choke out the most important question he’s ever asked, this time banking on a different response.
“Is she mine? I want the truth, Emma.” His face then silently pleads with her for confirmation.
“Yes. She’s yours.” He releases a tightly held breath. She’s mine. I have a daughter. Bloody hell, I have a daughter. Relief and excitement quickly fill his veins, replaced with unadulterated rage. And she lied to me about it! Every cell in his body wants to scream at her, but he refuses when he looks at the little girl asleep in his arms.
"Help me get her to bed, and we'll talk." He nods and follows them up the stairs. He enters his daughter’s room expecting an explosion of pink. Instead, he is met with a nautical theme, complete with model boats and a captain’s wheel. Her little bed is even shaped like a rowboat. On her nightstand are pictures of him and Emma from their journey up the coast. His heart clenches in his chest, but he holds it together long enough to help tuck her in. That's how she knows. She's always known what I look like, that I'm her papa. Overcome with emotion, he leaves the room and runs down to the kitchen. He briefly considers looking for a drink but knows that path isn't the smartest one. She finds him hunched over the kitchen island.
"Killian?" He jerks his head up, keeping his frustration in check.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wasn’t going to force you to stay, and if you stayed, I wanted it to be because of me and not your biological obligations to her.”
“A what?! Biological obligation? Are you fucking kidding me?” He rubs his temples and lowers his voice. “You had over three years to pass this information along to me. I’ve missed the first years of her life because you thought I’d see her as a biological obligation? Emma, do you see how wrong that is? What would’ve happened if I hadn’t come to Maine? I suppose I would’ve lived my life in ignorance, and she would’ve lived her life without her father.
“I would’ve found you, eventually. The older she gets, the more she asks about you, you know.”
“I'm grateful that you told her about me, truly. Look, I know you can’t change the past, but what might’ve been is killing me here, love.”
“What about me, Killian? I came home to Maine, knocked up and heartbroken, knowing that the man I loved only saw me as a good lay but didn’t want a future with me. Do you even know the looks I got in town? The whispers of the scandalous pregnancy. The disappointment on my father’s face. And there you were in Boston, footloose and fancy-free, back to your threesomes and one-nighters.” Breathe. She's upset. She knows you didn't.
“I’m going to stop you right there. First of all, I would’ve stepped up and been a good father; you know that!" He realizes he's pointing an accusing finger at her and retracts it.
“Of course, you would’ve! And you would’ve grown to resent me for taking away your pilgrimage of self-discovery.” That bloody hurts!
"Are you going to resent me for that for the rest of our lives? Damn it, Emma! You can't do that! You fucking lied to my face! I understand your fight or flight reaction when I first found you, but what about tonight?"
"What about it?"
"You let me make love to you without knowing the truth."
"I know! And I feel awful about it! I tried to tell you tonight. I'm terrified of what you might think of me. I didn't plan on Hope, but I am thankful every single day that you're her father because no one could love her more fiercely."
"You say that, but they're just words. If you truly believed that, you would've found me." She sobs. She knows he's right, but he finds no solace in his victory. He wants to comfort her so badly but fights against his nature.
“What’s next, Killian?”
“Honestly, I need to think, Emma. This changes so many things. You deceived me in the worst way. We promised to never lie to each other.”
“I know. Take all the time you need. I do love you; you need to know that.”
“Goodnight, Emma.”
“Goodnight, Killian.” He turns and walks out the door. Thank goodness he doesn’t have a vehicle. The walk to the docks should sober him up. So many decisions to make. He’ll move here, of course. Then, there’s the matter of setting up a residence. You can’t raise a child on a ship. He finds himself unusually giddy when he thinks of himself as a father. He’s got a lot of catching up to do. He knows little to nothing about his daughter. Will is waiting for him on the ship when he arrives.
“Ahoy there, mate! Did you soil the linens?”
“Not too badly, you disgusting sod.”
"You dog! You gave it to her, didn't ya?" He doesn't answer but sits down silently. “Why the long face, Cap?” He joins his best friend on board, and together they sit on the deck.
“I have a daughter, Will.”
“Bout time you caught up to speed, mate. Took a while for ya math to add up, huh?”
“She told me Hope wasn’t mine. Like a fool, I believed her.”
“How’d ya find out?”
“Her baby book. There was my damn surname staring back at me. Not to mention she has my blasted ears.” Will playfully flicks the tip of one of them.
“Ouch. That's unfortunate, on both counts.”
“Emma was raising my child and never even told me.”
“Not to take her side, but you were adamant about needing time to heal. I’m not sure I would’ve found ya either.”
“Thanks, asshole." Will offers him a sip of his beer, and Killian snorts and shakes his head. They sit in silence for several moments.
“She did, though, mate,” Will announces.
“Did what?”
“Came to find you. She showed up on our doorstep right after you’d left for England.”
“What?! William, if you're lying, I'll throw your happy ass overboard! What did she say?”
“Just that she needed to speak to you. She looked like a wreck. I told her you’d left, and I didn’t know when you’d return.” Killian grabs him by the collar.
“You son of a bitch! How could you hide this from me?”
“I wasn’t hiding nothin’. Truth is, by the time you got back, I’d forgotten. If I’d known she had your kid, though, I would’ve found you in a hot minute!” Killian sighs and lies flat on the deck of his ship, looking up into the inky sky as Will continues. “I'm sorry, mate."
"Why didn't she try again?" He traces constellations with his index finger, one of the only leftover traits from his childhood.
"I reckon she just wanted to give you your best chance and have faith that you'd find her."
"I should've stayed, Will."
"No! Don't go there, Killian, no matter what your big bleedin' heart says. You’re in a good place; mentally, financially, physically. You weren’t that person three years ago. You're ready to be that man that she needs."
"She lied to me. I don't know if I can get past that."
"Mate! Fuck! Instead of dwelling in the past, you need to move forward. Don’t think about the what-ifs. Fight for the future you want. Fight for her, for yer kid." Will emphasizes his speech with a punch to Killian's gut. "And may the Gods help us all now that your genetics have been passed on.”
“Come on, let’s shove off. I’ll take you back to Boston. I’ve got some loose ends to tie up there.” Killian attempts to rise, but Will pushes him back down.
“No need. I’ve already called Belle. She’s on her way. I called her while you were on your date. I knew the minute you found her; I'd lost ya.”
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He wakes up well before the town does but manages to snag breakfast and pick up some supplies at the grocery store to stock his ship for the journey to Boston. True to his word, Belle picked up her husband around 10:00 pm, leaving Killian to his own devices. Sleep evaded him most of the night, his thoughts consumed by Emma and Hope. Will was right, he had to move forward with his life, and if Emma could forgive him his transgressions, then he could forgive hers. He simply couldn't hang on to anger when he had a daughter looking up to him. When he swings by the sheriff’s station to tell Emma of his plans, he is greeted by the sweetest petite brunette.
“Daddy!” She runs into his arms. You’d never know that two days ago, they’d never met. Hope has the advantage; he figures because she has always known him, even if just through photographs and stories.
“Good morning, little love.” He dares to press a kiss to the top of her head. She's mine.
“That’s a bit too personal; it's Sheriff Humbert to you, Jones."
"Ew, are you flirting with me?" Killian sticks his tongue out and wrinkles his nose, eliciting a giggle from Hope. Graham laughs.
"Emma isn’t here, by the way. She’s checking out a neighborhood disturbance."
“'Tis fine. I just wanted to tell her I’m going to Boston for a few days. I’m going to move here permanently, and I need to get my affairs in order.”
“You’re moving here?”
“Aye.” Why does this surprise him?
“Good. Is this for Hope or Emma?”
“It’s for me, mate.”
“Even better. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about being a father; it wasn't my place." He shakes his hand in a peaceful truce.
"It's fine. She didn't tell me by choice; I figured it out."
"And it took you two days. I could've figured it out in two minutes." Smug bastard.
"Yeah, yeah, Humbert."
"I’ll tell her you stopped by, Killian.”
“Thanks." He puts his daughter down and holds her hand. "I’ll see you in a few days, Hope."
“Bye!” She leans in and kisses his cheek while he hugs her tightly.
He makes it back to his ship with a full heart. I'm a father; I'm a father. Just as he’s beginning to set sail, a frantic Emma marches up the gangplank. What in the bloody hell? She pushes him.
“Really, Killian? Running away, again? Well, guess what, this time I’m not letting you! You said you’d never leave me again! How could you do this to me? To her! Can’t you see how much I fucking love you?! I’m sorry I never told you about her, I’m sorry about many things, but you’re high off your ass if you think you're walking away from this! We can figure this out.”
“I'm sorry, too. Will told me about you visiting Boston. I'm sorry. I never knew.”
“He...he did? I was desperate. Hope was a few weeks old and not sleeping well. I needed help. I-I needed you. I need you, Killian.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t around.” He steps forward a cups her cheek, but her smile gives way to a frown. She slaps his hands away.
“Yet, off you go! Back to Boston! Graham told me.” The Storybrooke cruiser pulls into the lot, and Graham steps out with Hope in tow.
“Did he not also tell you that I’ll return in a few days to find permanent residence here?”
“Huh? No.” She shoots a glare at the sheriff. He innocently shrugs.
“I’m setting sail in ten minutes. Do you wanna come with me? I have some loose ends to tie up.”
“No. I mean, I would, but I have no one to watch Hope.”
“That’s a cop-out, Emma. I’ve got her! Go!” Graham shouts.
“But my parents?!” She shouts back at him.
“Will be home tonight; I’ll catch them up to speed. Go!” She turns to Killian.
“I don’t have a change of clothing.”
“Nonsense, I’ve got some great finds in my cabin.”
“I suppose…”
“In or out, Nolan? Tick tock.”
“I’m in, Jones. Graham, are you sure?”
“Get out of here, Emma.” She runs up and kisses his cheek and bids farewell to her daughter before walking up the gangplank once more.
“Killian Jones, will you take me to Boston with you?”
“Aye, but I have three conditions."
"Oh, boy."
"Number one, don’t ever lie to me again."
“Never.”
“Number two, we take our time. No rushing, no worrying, this ship is a stress-free zone."
“Okay. And three?”
"We're forbidden to use the past against each other."
"Agreed." They soon have his ship departing and drifting out to open sea.
"There is one more thing, love." His smile is confident, if not a bit cocky.
"What's that?" He leans in close to her ear.
“I want more babies with you.”
“Now?!” He laughs a genuine laugh, one that reaches his eyes and warms his heart.
“Well, not now, exactly, but in the near future, yes. Whadda ya say, Swan?”
“I think it’s negotiable, sailor. However, my father will castrate you if I have another child out of wedlock.” He teases her with a gentle kiss on her lips.
“Done. Boston has a fine courthouse.”
“Did you forget, my last engagement didn’t go so well?”
“That’s why we’re bypassing that endeavor altogether.”
“My my, aren’t you reckless?”
“On the contrary, loving you has been the only constant my life has ever known. Neither one of us is perfect, we never will be, but I love you so much, Emma. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”
“I love you too, Killian." She gives him a soft peck on the lips.
"Now, you can sit here and tell me everything there is to know about our daughter."
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