Once Upon a Time 1. Chapter 1

He had messed up, and he knew it.

The ridiculous thing was, a small part of him had hoped that secretly she would be impressed. That when she said "stay with Elsa", that was some sort of code for "help me fix this". He so badly wanted to be the one to help her fix this.

But when he'd come face to face with the Snow Queen his gut had instantly told him it was all a huge mistake. He was a pirate - he had known how to hustle and scare and, to his shame, cheat people into giving him what he wanted, but he didn't have magic. Sometimes you have to fight fire with fire, and he just wasn't up to the task. Not only had he ended up putting himself, and Elsa, in danger, but he'd put her in danger too. When she'd shown up just in time to save his ass from what would have been a most undignified death.

She _**had**_ saved him though...

The night was cold, the type of cold that slipped right under your skin and into your bones. There was a bite in the air, a chill that he wouldn't be able to shake even when he returned to his room and crawled into bed, alone, frustrated and fearing he had managed to push her away from him for good. He refused to sit inside, surrounded by bickering, the dwarves and Granny arguing with Mary Margaret about what they were to do next, Elsa frantically trying to piece together the whereabouts of her sister, baby Neal screaming his lungs out. It was all just too much. Outside was cold, but at least he could hear himself think. By now, though, most of them had left, yet he hadn't managed to move from what was quickly becoming his regular table.

He pulled his hip-flask from his belt and threw back what would have equated to a good couple of shots of rum. The warm liquid coated his throat, sharp and almost burning in comparison to the frosty air against his neck and chest. His back was to the clock tower, and he had no idea how long he had been sitting there. All he knew was that it had been too long since he had seen her face and heard her voice, and no amount of alcohol was going to make him feel any better about that.

His mind began to wander, back to the moment she saved him. Her magic, when she was able to control it, was powerful, and breathtaking - at least, it was to him. When she focused, her eyes squeezed tight shut, and she got completely lost, just for a second, in what she was doing. It had been like that today, only he could have sworn that beneath the "dairy queen" bravado, he had detected a wobble in her voice, a tiny hint of fear that she would never have allowed the Snow Queen to pick up on. He knew her though, better than she knew herself, almost. And he had heard it. He only hoped that his belief in her, the belief that he consistently showed to her, and the encouragement he had been giving her, was enough to get her through these moments.

He sighed and his breath appeared before him, tiny frozen particles dancing in the air before disappearing without a trace. On occasions like this he was almost grateful for the hook - it meant only one hand was becoming chapped and raw in the current temperature. It was probably time to call it a night.

With that, the door of Granny's opened and he swivelled his neck, his breath catching in his throat when he realised it was her. To play it cool and hope she has forgiven him, or apologise immediately? He tried a smile and placed his flask down on the table, preparing to stand.

"Emma, I…"

"Sit."

She had been striding towards him but when she reached a few steps away she slowed down, pointing at the bench. He decided not to test her, remaining seated at the very table she had kissed him at upon their return from the past.

"Emma, can I just.."

"Shhhh."

"Love, I…"

"I said shhh, Killian," she interrupted, her voice steel-like and calm.

At least she was still calling him by his real name, he supposed.

She took another slow step in his direction, wrapping her arms around herself in an attempt to protect herself. From the cold or from this conversation, he wasn't quite sure.

She looked everywhere but at him for a few seconds, her eyes tracing the outline of Granny's against the inky black sky, the shining clock tower and the tables surrounding him. Eventually, she sighed and met his gaze.

"Can we please not talk right now?"

He felt himself nod, although every fibre of his being was begging him to reach out to her, to ask her to forgive him for his stupidity. He ran his hand through his disheveled hair and closed his eyes, breathing in some calming air and shutting out the uncertainty of the moment for just a second.

His reverie was only broken when her body was suddenly pressed against his.

She sat on his lap and slipped her hands onto his waist under his heavy leather coat, sliding them around his back until she was completely encircling him. Her entire body was pressed tightly to his, so tight it was almost hard to breathe - it was like she physically couldn't get close enough to him. Instinctively he pulled her even closer, wrapping his arms around her and holding her against him, noting her uneven breathing and rapid heartbeat. Her head was tucked into his neck, her cheek pressed against his bare skin, and it was only then he realised the unsteady breathing was accompanied by tears. Her lips were grazing his collarbone and his pressed kisses to the top of her head, as he ran his hand soothingly across her back.

Time lost all meaning over the next few minutes. They sat, wrapped up in one another for as long as it took for her breathing to settle, her pulse to regulate and their bodies to warm up against the cold night air.

After what felt like an eternity - a calm, blissful eternity - she lifted her head from his shoulder, meeting his eyes. She was tearstained and vulnerable, but he wasn't sure she had ever looked more perfect to him. He kept one arm locked around her waist and lifted the other to graze the side of her face, tucking a loose tendril of golden blonde hair behind her ear. She stared at him, her gaze so intense it would probably have unnerved him had he not been so far gone, so completely in love with her. Her green eyes searching his for something he desperately wanted to give her, but wasn't sure she was ready to hear yet.

Eventually a small smile broke across her lips and she lifted her hand from his back to grab at the hair on the back of his neck.

"Hi," she whispered, her eyes dancing between his eyes and his lips.

"Hi."

She leaned in closer, her warm breath so close he was sure she was going to kiss him. Just as he moved to meet her halfway, she pulled back, never breaking eye contact and never moving her body from his, but stopping the kiss before it even began.

"Swan?"

She paused, taking in a huge breath and preparing herself for what he expected was going to be an epic speech. He prepared himself, hoping that whatever she said he was able to fix it.

"Don't you ever do that to me again."

Short and to the point - ever the pragmatist, his Swan.

He tried to curb the smile which was desperately fighting it's way to his face, but it was a losing battle. Her eyes were bright, almost playful, but her lips remained in a straight, determined line. She wasn't letting him off easy.

"Forgive me?" he whispered, raising his trademark eyebrow.

She might have had her warm chest pressed directly against his, but this time she wasn't buying what he was selling. Her tone was firm, all traces of the vulnerability from just moments ago fading quickly away.

"You think this is a joke? You almost died today."

"Aye, and you almost died last week, love. I'm not the only one who has put themselves in harm's way these past few days."

He couldn't miss the flash of annoyance in her eyes at that comment, but on this occasion she refrained from biting back. Instead, she ran her hand around the side of his neck and up on to his cheek.

"And tell me, pirate. How did that feel?"

Instinctively, his grasp on her waist tightened, and the air seemed to get a little bit thinner.

It had been, without a doubt, the most frightening moment of his life. And he had had his fair share of those over the years. The panic that had overtaken him when he thought he might lose her was unbearable. The feeling of relief when she tumbled into his arms, frozen and unsteady on her feet, holding on to him for dear life, was unlike anything he had ever experienced. They spent the rest of the day in the loft, her wrapped up in blankets and his arms, neither one willing to let go of the other. The ecstasy of having saved her tinged with the remnants of spine chilling terror at the thought of almost losing her, all swirled together in the overpowering love he felt for her. It occurred to him that the man he was now, today, was largely down to her. Honestly? He didn't who he was without her any more.

It couldn't possibly be that she felt this as strongly as he did. Could it?

He cleared his throat and took her hand, linking their fingers together, and squeezing it, just to make sure she was real.

"I think you'll remember, it wasn't exactly the best day of my life, love."

She placed a finger under his chin, tilting his head up so his eyes left their joined hands and met hers. She nodded.

"Right. So how do you think I felt today when I saw you under those icicles?"

Her voice was firm, but full of warmth.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I just want to help, to be of some use to you."

Her expression softened and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"I can think of plenty uses I might have for you…"

The brief, flirtatious moment broke the intensity of the conversation just for a second. He grinned at her, eyebrow raising up, challenging her to blush and look away. But she didn't.

"Seriously, though. You know you help just by being here, right? By being my go-to person to talk to. By believing in me more than I believe in me, and trusting me. But all of that requires that you stay alive."

"Same goes for you, Swan! This trust thing has to go both ways." he retorted.

"I know!" her free hand, the one that wasn't tangled with his, made its way lazily on to his chest, palm pressed against his skin and her fingers toying with the edge of his leather vest, "I know that. And I do trust you... I trust you completely."

Never, in his entire life had such a small sentence had such a monumentally huge impact on him. **She trusted him.**

"So, maybe in future we should both refrain from going solo in these situations. We'll stick together. Agreed?" she asked, her fingers slipping under the edge of the leather.

His pulse had quickened at the feel of her hand so close to his heart.

"Agreed."

She leaned in closer and he pulled her tight against him with his arm, his hook resting gently on her hip. Her eyes had returned to their previous pattern, glancing between his lips and his eyes, when the smile she was wearing started to fade, and a look of uncertainty took hold. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper.

"The thing is… I've lost so many people. Killian, I… I can't lose you too. I just can't."

Her words hung in the air as he tried to process them. She was right. She had lost a lot of important people, as had he. They were kindred spirits, and the impact of the losses they had experienced over the years (her thirty to his three hundred) would never truly leave them. It was something he already knew about her, but to actually hear her say it out loud, and to admit she was scared of losing him, was something different entirely.

"Love," he whispered, letting go of her hand and grazing his thumb over her cheek, "You could never lose me. I'll always be here - I've survived three hundred years, my track record's pretty good."

She nodded, but her eyes were glistening.

"I know that. But seeing you today just made me realise that none of us are invincible. And I really don't want to have to deal with all of this by myself. I love my family, but you and I…"

She trailed off, trying to find the right words.

"We understand each other." he said, gently, revisiting the words she had once said to him before. Before Neverland, before Zelena, before visiting the past and before the Snow Queen. If they understood each other then, they must know each other by heart by now.

A small laugh escaped her and she moved both hands to grip the lapels of his jacket.

"Exactly."

Before she could say anything else, he moved his hand to the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair and pulling her forward, closing the tiny gap that remained between them.

She audibly sighed when his lips met hers, and at that moment it was difficult to tell where she ended and he began. It was one of those kisses that started off slow, sure, but slow and seductive, before passion began to take over. It was an altogether different kiss than any they had shared before, a combination of the love and trust of their kiss outside Granny's after their return from the past, and the fire, passion and mutually growing attraction of the "one time thing" in Neverland. Her body was flush against his, and at that moment he knew he couldn't love her any more if he tried.

Eventually they pulled apart, lightheaded and fuzzy from lack of oxygen, gasping for air. In that one moment something had shifted, and their relationship had taken a step into new territory. The kiss had also awoken a desire he had desperately been trying to keep dormant, a mix of love and lust coursing through him, her hands still on him and her lips tracing a path along his neck as she rested her head against his shoulder.

If he didn't insist on ending the night here, he knew exactly where it was headed. And while he wasn't complaining, he knew it was wrong for both of them to rush this, when it had taken so long for them to get here, to this point.

He moved his head and guided her lips back to his with a gentle hand. She looked so utterly content in that moment, and he pressed his lips against hers in a chaste, "let's not get carried away" type of kiss, before he spoke.

"It's late, Swan. Allow me the pleasure of walking you home?"

Her smile was playful and she shook her head.

"Not so fast. You almost died today. I think you need to reassure me that you're not going anywhere one more time, before you do the chivalrous thing and walk me home. To my parents' house."

Her tone was light, but the fact that he knew part of that flirtatious comment was based on a genuine fear of losing him made him almost dizzy.

"Well. If the lady insists…"

His words were cut off by her kiss, her mouth fused to his once more and her arms wrapped around his neck.

He could definitely get used to this.

Minutes passed, and they were completely lost in one another, breaking apart for seconds at a time just to look at each other, share knowing smiles, his hand gently tugging at her loose hair while her fingers trailed a path down his neck and over his shoulders, following the sharp lines of his leather.

It wasn't until the sound of someone clearing their throat broke through their bubble that they finally separated.

"I'd say get a room, but I don't think your father would be too pleased with me if I did that," Granny smirked, hands on her hips.

Emma climbed off his knee and knotted her fingers through his, pulling him up to stand beside her.

"I think now might be the time to walk me home," she whispered, her cheeks turning pink as she avoided Granny's gaze, looking like a teenager who had been caught by her parents.

"We'll be on our way," he announced, nodding curtly to Granny as she turned to head back inside clicking the door closed behind her.

They made their way into the street, a comfortable silence enveloping them as they walked. He was busy thinking about where this all might be heading now, when she stopped in her tracks, pausing beneath the clock tower but refusing to drop his hand. He turned to watch her, his face etched with curiosity as she sighed, a huge sigh of relief, as if she was exhaling every ounce of tension in her body.

"Killian," she said, taking a step closer, staring into his eyes that soul searching way she sometimes did, like she was figuring him out just by looking.

"I'm happy."

It was a simple statement, but one that warmed his heart. It was all he wanted for her. To be safe and to be happy.

(Preferably with him.)

He couldn't find the words to form an appropriate response. Instead, he pulled her into his arms and dropped a kiss on the top of her head, as she buried her face in his chest, before angling her head up to press her lips against his jaw. All of a sudden she seemed completely at ease in publicly reaching out and holding on to him - even if it was currently in a deserted street, past midnight.

Five minutes later she was pressing her lips softly to his and whispering goodnight. As the door of the Charming's loft closed behind her, he stood, leaning breathlessly against the wall for just a few seconds before making his way down the stairs.

He had never been more glad not to have been killed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to all who read/reviewed/followed after the first chapter! This second chapter is from Emma's perspective, reliving the events of 4x02 and 4x03, with mild spoilers for 4x04 - my take on the scene where she asked him out! Hope you enjoy it. As disclosed above, the amazing characters of OUAT do not belong to me!**

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><p>Emma awoke the following morning to the clattering of pots and pans in the kitchen, and her mother admonishing her father for his clumsiness.<p>

"Seriously?! He just went back to sleep!" Snow exclaimed in an exaggerated whisper, as baby Neal started to cry.

She really needed to find her own place.

She kicked the covers off her legs, allowing the cool air to circulate around her warm bare feet. Quite a difference to how they had felt just a week before when she had awoken the day after being trapped with Elsa in the ice cave. Then again, that morning she hadn't woken up alone.

Emma had never been one to show people she needed them. She had lived her entire life relying only upon herself, unable to trust that anyone was really going to stick around. So she got good at putting a face on it - pretending that she was fine, when really she wasn't. Pretending she was coping on her own. It was a case of fake it till you make it, and eventually she made it - she was a strong, street-smart, intuitive, independent woman, who could definitely take care of herself. That was something she took absolute pride in.

Sometimes, though, it got a little bit lonely. And sometimes she wished she could just let someone in, and let them take care of her. Having someone to share the load with made things so much easier. It had just always been too much of a risk.

It had been too much of a risk with him, too, in the beginning. He was a pirate, for crying out loud. It was funny how that word now tugged her lips into a smile, when in the beginning it sent a shiver down her spine. Pirate. So she had done what she did best. Kept him at arm's length, not given anything away, not trusted him. As time went on, though, something changed. She started to see so much of herself in him. He continually proved himself to be not only a trustworthy ally, but an actual friend. When he wasn't around she found her mind wandering to him. And of course, on a couple of occasions, it had all just become too much - she had lost all control, kissing him and then pulling away, the panic that he would become another name on a long list of people who had left her (either by choice, or death) smothering the simmering passion she was feeling for him like a fog she couldn't breathe in.

She always felt a pang of shame when she saw that look in his eye - the one that told her how much he adored her, and how much it hurt when she pulled back. It was her defense mechanism. Don't get too close, don't be too vulnerable, don't let yourself need anyone.

She had told him to be patient, and he had. But that day something changed - she suddenly realised that being the saviour did not make her invincible, and certainly didn't mean she was exempt from the dangers everyone in Storybrooke faced every day. As she lay, shivering on the ice, her skin turning a translucent blue and her pulse weakening, she couldn't stop thinking about the fact she had just kept pushing him away, when it was the opposite of what she wanted. Why had she done that? Why hadn't she let herself be happy, for once, even if it was fleeting? The moment Elsa melted a hole in the ice and she saw his face, his expression a mix of relief and lingering panic, she knew she was going to give in.

She wished her legs hadn't given out quite as quickly as they had. There was something really significant about throwing herself into his arm, breathing in the scent of his warm leather jacket and burying her face in his neck after a near death experience. The way he had held on to her so tight she could hardly breathe, the whisper of his voice in her ear, desperate to know she was alright - it all just felt so utterly right.

Of course it took a near death experience to bring them to that point. How very them.

She had to admit, she liked the sound of that. Them. We. Us.

The car journey home was just a continuation of that momentary bliss. She had simultaneously never been so uncomfortable and so comfortable in her entire life. Her skin was ice cold, so cold she felt that if she tried to remove her clothes they would tear the skin with it, sticking to her, frozen solid. Her teeth were chattering uncontrollably, and her chest was so tight it hurt to breathe. Yet his arms were wrapped around her, her body tucked inside his leather coat, pressed against him, his hand rubbing warm circles across her back. He had to have been chilled to the bone, but his body was firm and steady and supportive. He seemed oblivious to David's uncertain glances each time he pressed a kiss to her forehead. She had buried her head in his chest and wondered how it could be that they fit together quite so perfectly, how she could feel so relaxed and safe after what had been one of the most traumatic experiences of her life.

He had stayed all day, and she had let him. There hadn't really been any question over that.

But when night fell and Snow suggested it might be time that Emma made her way to bed, an awkward pause hung in the air.

"Well, Swan. I best let you get some sleep," he had whispered, as she sat up.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, just missing her lips and no more. With that, he stood up, stretching out his limbs after being crushed up in the corner of the couch for several hours as she defrosted against his chest.

The words left her mouth involuntarily.

"Wait, where are you going?"

He had turned to look at her, an uncertain look in his eye.

"Your mother thinks it's time you head to bed, and I agree. It's been a long day, and if the looks your father has been giving me over the past hour are anything to go by, I might have already outstayed my welcome…"

She reached out and grabbed his hand, linking her fingers through his as she had done when they first arrived back. He raised an eyebrow, but for once it didn't give the flirtatious impression his expressions so often conveyed.

"... unless?"

She smiled at him, but felt herself starting to tremble again. Her insistence on having him so close all day could have been a simple case of "body heat helps warm me up". They both knew that wasn't true, but if she'd wanted to lie to herself, that's the excuse she could have gone with. This, however, was different.

"Could you stay? I just…"

I need you? I want you? I hate the idea of having to go to sleep tonight without you?

"... I don't think I've quite thawed out yet."

She managed to keep her tone light, but something about his eyes told her he knew what she was thinking.

"Well then," he said, pulling her up to stand before him, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear, "We'll have to do something about that then, won't we love?"

To anyone else, it would have sounded like a flirtatious conversation between two friends with a mutual crush. To them, it was so much more. What was left unsaid meant so much more than what had been said, reading between the lines and understanding that they needed each other now more than ever.

It was strange that in all the times she had imagined falling asleep next to him, never had it felt so completely normal. Then again, her visions had never been quite so innocent…

She rid herself of her clothes and slipped into bed (over which Snow had put an electric blanket), cosy pyjamas soft against her skin. The moment he lay down beside her she was against him, her head on his chest and his fingers in her hair.

The room was dark, and a comfortable silence settled in the loft. The sensation of his even breathing against her cheek, the rise and fall of his chest, was soothing, while she glanced up and took in the outline of his jaw against the dark.

"You scared me today, Swan." he whispered.

There was a shake in his voice that told her just how much her little ice-scapade had affected him. She felt him tense for a second as she ran her hand soothingly across his chest, knotting her fingers in his chest hair and pressing a kiss against his collarbone. Her touches slipping seamlessly from (arguably) platonic comfort, to something much more intimate.

"I scared me too."

She could sense that he was smiling.

"It's a bloody good job you asked me to stay. I would have slept out on those stairs otherwise."

Now it was her turn to smile. It was a ludicrous sentence, but the fact was, she knew it was true.

"I thought we'd had enough potential death-by-pneumonia for one day."

He laughed, and she snuggled closer to him, closing her eyes and enjoying the silence for a while. The afternoon had been a blur of questions, from her parents and Elsa, and her beloved Henry - checking that she was warm enough, fed and watered enough, feeling better or feeling worse. She appreciated it, of course, but a moment of quiet was suddenly all she wanted. Which was why she was surprised to hear her voice, once more involuntarily, seconds later.

"Thank you for today."

"It was my pleasure, love."

She really did love his voice. The gravel in it, the smooth accent. The way she didn't feel patronised, or offended, when he called her love.

She realised what she was about to say, and fought past the urge to keep it bottled up.

"I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't been here, Killian."

Vulnerable. Needy. Open. Honest. She was breaking all of her own rules.

"Emma. I can assure you, that is not something you will ever have to worry about."

She believed him.

The following morning she had awoken, tangled up in his arms and completely defrosted.

She missed waking up with him by her side and it had only happened once.

Last night, however, had really proved to her how different the dynamic of their relationship was becoming. After his jaunt to visit the Snow Queen, she had been so petrified of losing him, and so angry with him for ignoring her instructions that all she had wanted to do was yell at him. Yet when she'd stormed out of Granny's to find him sitting outside, she had felt that full, fuzzy feeling in her chest that happens when someone tells you a romantic story, or the person you've dreamt about the night before walks into the room. She had cast aside her plan to punish him and simply revelled in being close to him instead.

Her head started to spin as she relived those kisses. She knew three hundred years was a long time to practice, but man could that guy kiss. She jumped out of bed, shaking off the glowing, warm sensation running through her body at the thought of his hands on her.

This was not the time for those sort of daydreams.

Snow smiled widely at her as she walked into the kitchen.

"Someone was out late last night?"

Emma yawned as she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down, smiling at her father who was silently rocking her sleepy baby brother on the opposite side of the table.

"Killian and I had some stuff to… sort out," she said, attempting to keep it as non-commital as possible.

"So it's "Killian" now, huh?" David inquired, his tone all kinds of accusatory.

A wave of defensiveness shot through her. Is this what most normal teenagers go through? Her foster families had never really cared where she was or who she was with. Part of her was worried David was going to make things awkward, but the other was enjoying watching him squirm a little.

"Yep. Figured I better stop calling him Hook since I'm planning to ask him out tonight," she replied, casually, sipping her coffee and flipping open a magazine she had lifted from the counter, relishing Snow's squeal of delight in the background.

Suffice to say the rest of the conversation went down exactly how a sixteen year old Emma had always imagined a conversation with her dad about a boy would have gone.

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><p>Henry had, thankfully, been pretty encouraging of her decision. He just wanted his family to be happy, and if that meant one of his mother's dating a reformed pirate, he was okay with that.<p>

She inhaled deeply before stepping out of the car. Despite the fact she couldn't, in a million years, think of a single reason why he would decline, the butterflies in her stomach refused to settle.

He was sitting at a table when she opened the door, smiling that smile that had a habit of knocking all of the air out of her lungs when she saw him.

"Morning, Swan," he said, his expression shifting as he noted her obvious nerves.

He stood up and walked towards her, concern washing over his face, and he stopped just inches away from her. Instinctively she reached out and ran her hand down his arm.

"Morning yourself."

She smiled as he took that final step towards her, ignoring the glances of the fellow diners, and skimming the side of her cheek with his hand.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice soft. His eyes were fixed with hers and it took every last ounce of willpower not to grab him and kiss him senseless.

And drag him up to his room upstairs…

… she really had to learn to control her trains of thought these days.

"Everything's fine, for now," she replied, squeezing his arm before taking a step back. She couldn't miss the look of disappointment on his face.

"Hopefully better than fine," she added, smiling at him.

He quirked that eyebrow of his, but folded his arms, waiting for her to elaborate. She was going to have to work hard to stop him doubting her trust in him.

"Last night was… nice."

"That it was, love."

"And I meant what I said. I really do trust you, you know."

He met her gaze and nodded, appreciatively.

"So it got me thinking that it's about time I asked you out."

The quirked eyebrow lifted even higher and a huge smile broke out across his face.

"Why, Swan," he said, "I thought you'd never ask."

She felt herself grinning back, her smile reflecting his and a sense of relief coursing through her.

"Funny, I thought you'd be old fashioned and want to do the asking."

"Well, since I have the honour of planning the evening, it's only fair you get to ask."

"Hey!" she exclaimed, "Who said you were planning the evening?"

"Oh Emma," he replied, shaking his head and leaning in to whisper in her ear, his warm breath in her ear sending a shiver down her spine, "I've had this evening planned in my head for quite some time."

Her pulse quickened at the thought of him imagining this date over the weeks and months it had taken her to finally get her head and her heart straight. WIth the teasing tone of his voice, she could only imagine what he had in mind.

"Pick you up at 7?"

She nodded, momentarily losing the ability to form coherent sentences and managed a simple "see you then" as she turned to walk out of the door.

"Emma?"

She looked back over her shoulder just in time for him to reach her, wrap an arm loosely around her neck and pull her to him, capturing her lips in a quick kiss.

He let go and stepped back, leaving her wanting more as he headed back to his table. He grinned as she inadvertently touched her finger to her lips, much like he had done after their first kiss in Neverland.

"Just a little teaser to get you through the afternoon, love."

His tone was wicked, and she rolled her eyes before leaving the diner, appreciating the cool air that hit her when she closed the door behind her.

She had a feeling this was going to be some date.

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><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed that! This is my first fanfic, so feedbackreviews are very much appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all your great feedback, follows and favourites so far - I'm having so much fun writing this. Here's my take on the first date (spoilers for 4x04 - I do not own the characters of OUAT!)**

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><p>He still couldn't quite believe that after all this time, here they were, on their first official date.<p>

Not counting snow monsters and ice walls, of course.

It had taken a bit of persuasion for her to agree to being blindfolded. He had arrived at the door of the loft and his mind had gone completely blank when she had answered, her hair swept up, a beautiful dress hugging her figure and heels on her feet that brought her almost up to his height. She was radiant. Then again, he thought she looked radiant whatever the circumstances.

He'd kept the blindfold out of sight, instead handing her a single rose as they had said goodbye to her parents, Snow smiling and David looking... less impressed. Once they reached the dimly lit street he produced it from his pocket, distracting her from her obsession with his newly attached hand. As they had made their way down the stairs she had taken it in hers, linking their fingers together, turning it over as if to make sure it was real. He had never got the impression that the hook particularly worried her, but he was glad she was as impressed with it being reattached as she seemed to be. He pushed all thoughts of Gold's warning - that the hand was cursed - to the back of his mind.

"So," he said, dangling the green silk scarf in front of her eyes.

She stared first at it and then at him, puzzled, before a knowing look crossed her face.

"You couldn't even wait till we've eaten? I don't know what kind of girl you take me for, captain, but I certainly don't… how can I put this… "pillage and plunder" on the first date."

She leaned into his ear, her thumb running circles over the palm of his left hand.

"Plus, the green doesn't really go with this outfit."

He rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the effect her voice in his ear had on him.

"Much as though I think you might change your mind about that after the spectacular evening I have planned, that's not what this is for. I want the location to be a surprise."

She stepped back, folding her arms but obviously drinking in his new attire again. These modern clothes seemed to have been a success already.

"How many locations are there in Storybrooke for a date?" she asked.

"You'd be surprised, love."

He slowly walked behind her.

"May I?"

She sighed, but he could tell she was fighting the urge to smile at him.

"Fine. Just make sure I don't fall over in these shoes. I haven't worn heels much lately."

"I'll keep you safe, love," he whispered, tying the blindfold around her eyes.

Showtime.

* * *

><p>He had the boy to thank for arranging it all in such a short space of time. Henry had appeared at Granny's not long after Emma left, to have the "if you hurt my mother" chat. It was sweet, how protective he was over her. Then he asked where he was planning on taking her, and he found himself unveiling his plan - he just wasn't sure if it was doable.<p>

Henry had taken his phone from his pocket - it was going to take him a while to fully understand the power of these tiny machines - and with the click of a few buttons, confirmed that the weather was going to stay dry that night. Cold, but no rain, and hardly a whisper of a breeze. There had to be some sort of dark magic powering these phones, that they could predict the weather at the push of a button.

Then, he had headed off to visit Gold, while Henry had got him some supplies. Everything was in place.

"Alright, Swan, we're here. Just stay where you are for a moment…"

He pulled a lighter from his pocket and quickly lit the candles he had left there earlier in the afternoon, placing the glass shields over them to protect them from the sea breeze. He had to admit, even for him, this was good.

"Can I take this off now? You're killing me here!"

"Patience, love," he replied, laughing throatily, "Are you sure you're quite prepared?"

"Very funny, casanova, I think I'm good."

He ran his hands down her arms when he got to her, reaching up to untie the blindfold.

Her reaction was everything he had hoped it would be. Her eyes were wide and she smiled, brightly, taking in the view before her.

"Did you?! How did you have… this is…"

He took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles.

"You're quite welcome, Swan."

"It's beautiful."

It really was beautiful. Naturally, he was drawn to the ocean. Having captained the Jolly Roger for so long, being by the water made him feel at home. And one thing Storybrooke had was a hell of a pier. All it really was was some candles, a blanket, and, of course, a basket of food Ruby had prepared for him at Granny's. But the location was what made it so perfect. The water lapping against the shore, the light from some of the boats shining warmly in the background, the smell of salt in the air. It reminded him of home and it reminded her of him.

"Well, the idea was all mine, but you can thank your boy for the realisation of it."

"Henry helped you?!" she looked worryingly stunned.

"Does that surprise you?" he asked, his voice uncertain. The last thing he wanted was for her son to disapprove of their relationship.

She shook her head.

"Actually, no," she leaned up and pressed her lips gently to his cheek, just for a second, "I guess he just knew how important this night was to me."

Her words sent a warm shiver down his spine and he took her hand in his as they sat down on the blanket. He opened the basket and fished out a bottle of wine, and she rummaged through rest of the contents as he poured them each a glass.

"This looks amazing. Granny's handiwork?"

"Actually no, it was Ruby's. She really has outdone herself."

She gladly took the glass from him and took a long sip.

"Good wine. And here I was thinking it was rum all the way with you."

He grinned at her, and shook his head.

"Emma, please, didn't I say I knew how to treat a lady on a date?"

"I'm starting to think you might be right there," she replied, her voice barely a whisper.

With that, the wind picked up a little, blowing her beautifully styled ponytail out behind her. She was perfect. She had, however, neglected to bring a jacket out with her - perhaps his fault for not mentioning the outdoor location - and while he had very much enjoyed warming her up after the ice cave debacle, he didn't fancy seeing her temperature drop again any time soon. He lifted another blanket from behind him and draped it around her shoulders.

"I apologise," he began, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes, "Once again, it doesn't quite match your dress."

She laughed, and wrapped the pale blue blanket around her.

"It's perfect."

Several hours passed in what felt like minutes. They covered new ground - he talked about Liam and she talked about her childhood, he told her about Gold's warning that the hand was cursed and she told him she didn't believe it. She opened up about getting used to Mary Margaret and David being her parents, about discovering she had magic, and he told her more about his time with Baelfire back in Neverland. They ate and they drank and for once, all felt right with the world. When they were done eating they lay back against the cushions he had thrown over the blankets, her body curled into the side of his and his hand absent-mindedly running through her hair. They weren't planning an escape from a wicked witch or a snow queen, or fighting with Rumplestiltskin, or tracking down someone who was missing. They were simply two people, who had waited a long time to spend an evening like this, enjoying being around one another.

When the candles had all but melted away completely, and the wind was picking up, it was finally time to go. Reluctantly they had packed up their things and wandered slowly home - she was wearing his jacket and his arm was draped loosely around her shoulders. They reached the door of the loft, and she had taken the basket and blankets from him, placing them on the floor outside the door and inviting him to drop by for them tomorrow.

"So," she whispered, conscious that despite the late hour, her parents were more than likely still awake.

"So... ," he followed her lead, his pulse quickening as she stepped forward, invading his personal space in the best possible way.

"You were right. Turns out you really do know how to plan a good night out."

"I'm glad you liked it, Swan."

"I did. I don't know how the next one will live up to that," she responded, grabbing both his hands, "but I'm sure we can come up with something."

He smiled, his eyebrow lifting on his forehead at her sultry tone.

"I'm sure we will."

The thought of leaving her now was torture. He composed himself, running his hand across her cheek. He leaned in and captured her lips in his, barely able to believe how every time he kissed her managed to feel better than the last.

He relished the ability to pull her to him with both hands, pressing one on her lower back to hold her against him, while caressing her cheek with the other. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back, both losing themselves in the moment.

When they eventually pulled apart, she tucked a piece of her hair which had escaped from her ponytail behind her ear and stepped back, exhaling loudly and finally meeting his gaze.

"I definitely need my own place."

He grinned at her as she reached down and lifted the basket and blankets, turning the handle of the door to step inside, separating her from him.

"Night, Killian."

"Goodnight."

* * *

><p>The street was empty as he left the building, sauntering slowly along the pavement.<p>

How one person could affect him like that he would never understand. He found himself smiling, so lost in the memory of that goodbye he could have sworn he could still feel her in his arms.

A quiet clicking sound suddenly broke the pristine silence he had been walking in, and his captain senses awakened, preparing, as ever, for some sort of confrontation. The click was followed by the sound of footsteps, which quickly broke into a run. Steeling himself for a run in, he stopped in his tracks, turning round just in time to be grabbed, and dragged into the unlit doorway of the closed bakers shop to his right.

She slammed him against the wall, a wicked glint in her eye, her smile flirtatious and dangerously seductive.

"Swan! What the bloody hell are you doing?!"

She was distracted, fiddling with the buttons of his new "modern" attire. She had let her hair down and it rippled over her shoulders, messy and untamed. Her heels had been replaced by ankle boots, and her cheeks were flushed, having run to catch him. Totally uncoordinated but completely divine.

Without saying a word she was flush against him, one hand running over the plains of his chest, the other reaching up to skim over his stubble, her finger tracing the edge of his bottom lip and her eyebrow raised, mimicking his signature move.

And then she was kissing him, and everything outside of them seemed to fade to insignificance. Her hand tangled in his hair, pouring every ounce of passion into the moment. It took him a second to reciprocate, like she had hypnotised him, but as his body seemed to wake up to her touches, every nerve ending on fire, he grabbed her by the waist and spun them around, pushing her back flat against the wall and relishing her squeal of appreciation.

After that first time in Neverland their kisses had been passionate, but in an understated way. Kisses which conveyed trust, need, affection, loyalty - even the kiss that ended their date had been passionate but not quite lustful. It seemed cruel to give in to that sort of temptation when at that point things were unlikely to go any further, certainly not in her parents' loft. But the way her body was reacting to his now, he couldn't imagine holding back from her. Even if it meant the moment he had to leave her was going to be even more torturous than it had already been for one night, that was a price he was more than willing to pay.

As his head began to spin, he reluctantly pulled his lips from hers, fighting a smile as she moaned impatiently, holding his face in her hands and leaning into him, catching his lip between her teeth for just a fraction of a second before turning her attention to his cheek, his jaw and eventually his neck. This was becoming dangerous territory.

Everything about her sent shivers of desire through him, and the thought that eventually, one of these days, this wouldn't have to stop before going any further was just about enough to help him through.

He told himself - two more minutes, and then I'll walk her home.

And all of a sudden it was over, as quickly and unexpectedly as it had begun. She placed a searing kiss on his mouth, so possessive and intense he felt sure his lips would be bruised in the morning, and then pushed her palms against his chest, stepping out from his grasp and grinning at him, breathlessly.

"Not that I'm complaining, love," he sighed, trying desperately to control his breathing, "But where did that come from?"

She was already walking away, and turned to look over her shoulder at him, the same sultry look in her eye she had had when she had said goodnight at the door.

"That?" she replied, innocently, "Well. That was just a teaser… to get you through tonight."

She was throwing his own words from that morning back at him and he loved her even more for it.

Bring on date number two.

* * *

><p><strong>This was quite a fun chapter to write! I didn't want to totally disregard the handhook situation, but I have to admit, Killian being distracted by his potentially cursed hand at the end of the date made me sad - so I kept my version a little bit lighter! Hope you enjoyed, and if you liked it (or didn't!) please leave me a little review - your feedback means a lot and since I'm new to this it'll definitely encourage me to keep going, and to improve!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I just started a new job, so it took me a little while to find the time to write this - boy do I love these two though! This chapter is half Emma/Elsa centric, half Emma/Killian centric - but all based on their relationship, so I hope you like it!**

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><p>She was ready to admit it - she'd known for a while now that she had him in the palm of her hand. She knew he cared, probably too much for his own good - he cared, even when she kept pushing him away. It hadn't been a conscious thing, her constant testing of the boundaries, but most other guys would have given up by now - consistent rejection and the slamming of metaphorical doors in your face can't be much fun. But not him. He had stayed, waiting patiently, encouraging her magic and offering her nothing but support. She had started to understand how deeply his feelings ran a while ago, and honestly? It had terrified her.<p>

But then they bit the bullet and planned their first date, and she realised that suddenly it wasn't just her holding the power. He adored her, but the feeling she had got in her stomach the night before their first date, the day she had thought she was going to lose him had been unbearable. It had occurred to her that she wasn't sure how to deal with everything in this complex, magic fuelled world without him now - he had just become an integral part of the furniture, albeit one she had been reluctant to acknowledge until recently. He arrived to pick her up, looking dangerously handsome in his new attire, and she'd pretty much lost her grasp on the English language. He'd recruited her son to help with the planning, and set up a romantic dinner that was somehow so quintessentially "them" - the ocean, the pier, the flirtatious conversation…. it all just worked. He had kissed her goodnight and she'd leaned against the door after closing it, stunned at how completely content she felt. Until the tingling on her lips from contact with his completely subsided, and then content wasn't quite the word she'd use.

As she was throwing her heels onto her bed and grabbing her ankle boots, ready to chase after him, she paused for a moment. Her head was getting involved at this point, a tiny warning voice saying "don't rush this". But for once in her life, she let her heart take over, and she ignored it, rushing down the stairs and into the street, catching up with him within seconds, and emptying her mind of any thoughts other than the fact that in that moment, she just wanted to kiss him, rake her fingers through his dark hair and show him for a second that she was in this as much as he was.

He had her in the palm of his hand too.

It had been precisely eleven hours since she'd left him breathless in the doorway, and she was sitting alone in the sheriff's station, sipping her now cold cup of hot chocolate and making her way through a mountain of town paperwork in an attempt to figure out who the Snow Queen was, and what she wanted with them. She traced his finger down a list of names, trying desperately to concentrate on the task at hand. She fought a losing battle with a yawn, stretching her arms and allowing herself to momentarily embrace her tiredness. Admittedly, she hadn't slept that well the night before. It was awfully difficult to drift off when every nerve ending in your body was on fire, desperate to reconnect with his body. Alas, she had a job to do, and daydreaming about his hands on her waist was not going to help her figure things out any quicker. A five minute power nap, however, couldn't hurt…

Her head had been resting on the desk for a matter of seconds when footsteps entered the room.

"I'm awake, I'm awake…" she heard herself mumbling, as she practically jumped out of the seat.

Elsa paused in the doorway, looking amused for the first time in days. She was so worried about Anna that she rarely smiled, but when she did she looked radiant. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe, grinning at her and shaking her head.

"Did someone not get enough sleep last night?" she asked, a teasing tone in her voice that Emma hadn't heard her use before.

It was hard not to smile back.

"I guess I could have used a couple more hours. Too much coffee."

Elsa smirked and walked over to the desk, sitting down in the chair opposite her and composing herself, totally straight faced.

"Ahhh, coffee. So that's what kept you awake all night?"

There were two choices here - engage in girl talk or blow right past it and start talking strategy. She knew which of the two she was more comfortable with.

"So, I'm thinking I should get some more of the town records from Regina," she began, running her hand through her hair before shuffling some of the paperwork on her desk into a haphazard pile, "... not that she's exactly talking to me right now, but you could give it a shot?"

Elsa raised an eyebrow at her.

"Really?! You're just going to completely ignore my obvious interest in how your date went last night?"

She felt a knot forming in her stomach, and she laughed nervously. The reality was, it had been a long time since she had had girl friends to gossip with. In fact, she'd never really had a proper close friend, who she really trusted, to discuss these things with - with the exception, perhaps, of Mary Margaret, back before they discovered they were mother and daughter and things got a little more awkward in the "boy talk" department. She barely knew Elsa, and while she got the feeling they had a lot in common, the idea of opening up about that side of her with anyone, never mind someone she had just met, made tiny beads of sweat form on her forehead.

"I guess there's not much to tell…"

Elsa shook her head in mock disappointment, and lifted her mug and a spare from the other desk, and walked to the water cooler, filling them each with water as she'd seen David do the previous day. She sat back down, pushing Emma's mug towards her, and taking a sip of her own, the silence making her nerves even shakier. Eventually, Elsa sighed and spoke.

"Emma… things for me have been a little on the difficult side recently."

Here it comes… the guilt trip...

"Yeah, you don't say."

"So I think it would be really refreshing if, for just five minutes, I could have a conversation about something nice. Maybe even something romantic. With all this chaos, and worrying about Anna, I've barely had time to glance at any men in Storybrooke, never mind think about dating…"

She paused, and for a moment she looked sad. But then, as quickly as the look passed over her face, it disappeared, and she beamed at her, a sparkle in her eye that seemed to be the result of years of practice of hiding her true feelings.

"So… humour me. How was it?"

Emma took a long, deep breath and reached for her mug, taking the time to enjoy a sip and attempt to centre her thoughts. The part of her that didn't want to open up was fighting with the part of her that couldn't get him, or the date, out of her head.

"Well… it was fine."

Elsa looked crestfallen.

"Fine? Really? That's all I get?"

She found herself shuffling uncomfortably in her chair, looking anywhere but at Elsa.

"Okay, it was good."

Elsa's unchanged expression told her this still wasn't good enough.

"I… look, I've never really done the whole "boy talk" thing… I guess I'm a little hazy on how much information I'm supposed to be giving you right now."

"How much is there to tell?!" Elsa asked, her eyes lighting up as she sat bolt upright in her chair, a splash of water bouncing out of the mug and on to her beautiful blue gown.

"No! No, I don't mean how much detail in that department… I just…" she trailed off, never feeling less like a typical girl than right in this moment. Weren't girls supposed to love this sort of conversation?

Elsa smiled at her, but she had lost a little of her sparkle again. She fiddled with the end of her braid, twisting the strands of blonde hair which were falling out of it.

"Don't worry. I don't really know how this works either," she said, her voice suddenly much smaller than it was before.

"Really? I thought you and Anna would have had these chats all the time, back home."

Elsa smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"We did, sort of. I was just always on the receiving end of them - kind of like now, actually, if you ever manage something more than "fine" or "good"!"

They both laughed, and the awkwardness that hung in the air seemed to thin out just a little.

"I guess Anna's just always been a lot more open to that sort of thing than I have. You could say I don't let people in all that often."

It was funny that she had only met this woman a short time ago and yet she knew already that they were frighteningly similar.

"I know the feeling."

For a moment they let that acknowledgement envelope them, sitting in silence, each sipping their water and allowing themselves to feel comfortable in what had started off an awkward situation.

"I had an amazing night…"

The words left her mouth almost without her realising it. Elsa grinned at her, sitting completely still, almost as if she was worried that if she moved she'd scare her off.

"He just… it's hard to explain. We have this connection. At first I hated it. I wanted to ignore how similar we were, and I definitely didn't trust him. But after a while I started to notice things."

Elsa was leaning on the desk in front of her by this point, looking for all the world as if Emma was the only other person in the universe. She was listening so intently it was almost disconcerting - was this friendship?

"What things?" she asked, her voice a whisper - Emma wasn't sure if that was for dramatic effect or out of genuine intrigue, but it made her smile regardless.

"Like… when I didn't believe in my magic, he always did. And then there were the obvious things - if it wasn't for him I doubt I'd have got Henry back from Neverland. And when I kissed him when we there, I didn't exactly hate it, but I guess the actual attraction has never been an issue with us. And then everything with Zelena happened, and he helped me work everything out when we went back to the past… and…"

She paused, contemplating her next sentence.

"He gave up his ship for me."

Elsa looked suitably stunned. She hated to admit it, but seeing how impressed someone was at the lengths this man would go to for her felt good.

"He what?!"

"That's how he got to me in New York. He traded his ship for a magic bean, so he could get back to this world," she said, her heart fluttering again at the realisation that he gave up his home for her, "I haven't told anyone else that yet. I think I was subconsciously keeping it our secret."

"Thank you for telling me," Elsa replied, "That's amazing."

"Yeah, well. After that I think I knew I couldn't run away from this any more. And cryptic conversations and stolen kisses between chasing snow monsters…"

Elsa flinched.

"... no hard feelings, by the way. But those moments just weren't enough any more. In the past, they would have been. I couldn't let people in - we're freakishly similar in that department. But with him it's getting easier somehow. I don't want to shut him out any more. I'm trying, for the first time in a long time."

Elsa nodded.

"It's the eyes, isn't it?"

Emma coughed, inhaling the sip of water she had taken. Elsa laughed, the glint in her eye returning.

"Or, is it the leather? He does look so handsome in that leather."

Emma stared at Elsa, stunned to see this playful side of her. A second of silence passed before the pair dissolved into a fit of laughter, weeks of tension and angst falling away as they laughed, to the point that they weren't quite sure what they were laughing at any more. It just felt good to smile, and talk, and forget about the chaos for a moment. As they calmed down, Emma sighed, deciding for once to just allow herself to revel in this.

"He really does, doesn't he."

"I'm not usually attracted to pirates, but I can see why you fell for him."

Emma smiled, her brain sifting through a series of mental pictures it had collected of him - his priceless expression after she kissed him in Neverland, the unabashed flash of lust in his eyes when she changed into her borrowed outfit to fit in in the Enchanted Forest, the heart-stopping look of love radiating from him when he confessed to parting with the Jolly Roger in order to save her. The dazed, oxygen deprived, flushed expression when she tore her lips from his the night before, leaving him wanting more. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks and fought to control the smile that was plastered all over her face.

"You're blushing! Clearly you can see why you fell for him too!" Elsa squealed, "Does this mean it's serious?"

"Let's not get carried away! I don't know if I'd say serious but… it's good. Let's leave it at that for now, shall we?"

Elsa began to protest, but a knock at the door snapped them both back to reality, their little bubble of girl talk shattered in an instant.

"Sorry to interrupt ladies…"

His voice was as smooth as ever, and she couldn't ignore the shiver it sent through her. As she glanced up his eyes locked with hers and he grinned the smile at her that was becoming near impossible for her to resist.

Elsa looked from him to her, a knowing look in her eye, and stood up from her chair.

"I think I'll give you two a minute."

As she walked away Emma almost thought she winked at her, and she fought the urge to laugh.

He walked towards her and perched on the desk in front of her. Slowly she stood up, stepping forward to stand between his legs, his hand drawn to the small of her back like a magnet, pulling her close. If she didn't know any better, she could have sworn there were bolts of electricity flickering between them, and the look in his eye as he used his hook to tuck her hair behind her ear was making it even more difficult to hold back from him.

So she didn't.

The moment her mouth was fused with his, everything felt right with the world again. She heard herself let out an involuntary moan as he pulled her closer, and she ran her hands over his chest to rest on his shoulders. For a second she was aware of thinking how perfect he was. It was ridiculous - no-one was perfect, she knew that. But in that moment, she decided he was. Everything about him, the gentle scratch of his stubble, the feel of his hook now pressing in to her back while his hand tangled in her hair. Before long his lips had wandered from her own onto her cheek, her jawline and her neck, and it took every ounce of willpower for her not to push him back on the desk, lock the door and finally give in to what they both, quite obviously wanted. But she knew she didn't want it to be like this - in the middle of the sheriff's station where anyone, including her father, could walk in at any point.

Finally he pulled back and smiled at her.

"So…" he began, sliding off the desk and standing before her, wrapping his arms around her as she rested her head on his chest, "Did you tell her?"

Emma pulled back, confusion momentarily flooding her head, which, having just spent several minutes with her lips locked with someone who could kiss as well as he could, wasn't wholly surprising.

"Tell who what?" she mumbled, wanting to ignore all attempts at conversation, instead pressing her lips against his neck.

"Elsa. Did you tell her whether it was my eyes or my leather that first attracted you to me?"

Emma's eyes snapped open and she gasped, springing out of his embrace and feeling her entire body fill with panic.

"I… are you serious?! I can't believe you eavesdropped!"

His grin was infectious, but she felt like her stomach had fallen out of her legs, and wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. Then again, this was Storybrooke - that was not entirely out of the question.

Or maybe she could use her magic to make herself spontaneously combust.

He laughed, reaching out and taking her hand, pulling her closer to him as she eyed him suspiciously.

"Just that one sentence, I swear," he whispered, "You two seemed to be having such a good time, I didn't want to interrupt. So I went back outside."

His eyes were searching hers, and suddenly he looked as panic stricken as she felt.

"Emma, I swear, I wouldn't invade your privacy like that. Not even when it involves hearing two beautiful women talk about me in quite such a… complementary fashion."

He raised his trademark eyebrow, and she knew that despite the charm, he was telling the truth. It really was becoming that simple. She just believed him, because she was realising how much this meant to both of them.

"Pity," she replied, a hint of flirtation seeping into her voice, "You'd have heard me say neither."

"Ahhh, so it was my devilish charm then?" he asked, leaning in and pressing a kiss just beneath her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

"I guess you'll never know," she whispered seductively, "Then again, you did appear pretty quickly after that part of the conversation, if your story is to be believed?"

He nodded, taking her hand and pressing a featherlight kiss to the back of her knuckles, his warm breath on her hand reminiscent of their trip up that beanstalk just after they met.

"What can I say, love. I just can't stay away from you."

His voice was low and rough and irresistible, and before she could respond, his lips were back against hers, kissing her so passionately she almost forgot to breathe.

They were so tangled up in each other that they didn't hear Elsa come back in until she rattled the drawer of a filing cabinet to catch their attention.

They sprang apart, looking anywhere but at each other. Elsa hesitated, her mortified expression matching their own faces, until she cleared her throat and tripped over her words.

"I… look, I didn't mean… I'm sorry to interrupt, it's just that.. well…"

"Tick tock, love," Killian muttered, running his hand through his unkempt hair as Emma straightened out her top.

Elsa paused, taking a breath and composing herself once again.

"It's the Snow Queen. David sent me in to get you guys, he's outside."

Emma silently thanked her lucky stars he had sent Elsa instead of coming in to find them himself.

"It's an emergency," Elsa continued.

Killian rolled her eyes and looked round at her, as she nodded at Elsa, who hurriedly made an excuse to meet them outside and left the room.

He held out his hand and she took it gratefully, grabbing her jacket as they walked towards the door.

"Never a dull moment, eh love?" he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She smiled, "Never. But we can handle it."

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading! This week's actual episode (4x06) was a little light on the CS front, so this was fun to write, even though the story isn't correlating with the actual episodes now! I hope you enjoyed that - I get worryingly excited when I see I've got a review (still such a newbie!) so if you like it (or didn't!) let me know!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**New chapter, inspired by 4x07 - can't let an opportunity for Captain Swan fluff (even if it wasn't explored in the actual episode) go unacknowledged! Hope you enjoy, and thanks to everyone who has followed, favourited and reviewed so far! 3**

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><p>He had figured it would just be like any other Snow Queen emergency. She'd turn up, threaten them in that ever so calm manner, blast some ice around. They would tell her to back off, Emma might use her magic, they'd flirt in the quiet moments amongst the madness, she'd disappear, and the cycle would begin again.<p>

Oh how wrong he had been.

Instead of the familiar pattern he had grown to expect, and even tolerate, the day took a much darker turn. The Snow Queen had trapped herself in the Sheriff's station with Emma, and something had gone horribly wrong. She had hit a nerve with whatever she had said, whatever cold, calculated words she had tossed Emma's way, and the result was about as damaging as it could have been. No death, no destruction (with the exception of a few bricks from the wall of the building) and no kidnappings. What she had inflicted, however, was something that was almost worse. She had allowed Emma to see that tiny hint of fear in her parents' eyes when for a split second she lost control.

He saw it happening, as if in slow motion. He had reached for her - of course he had, the woman could probably set him on fire and he still wouldn't fear her - but they had hesitated. And for someone with trust issues running as deep as hers, that was not something that could be ignored or excused. She had immediately taken off, and while every fibre of his being was screaming out for him to follow her, he somehow managed to hold himself back. He knew if it were him, he would not want to be followed, even by the woman he loved. He would need a moment alone, to stop and think and reflect and regain his composure. It was one of many similarities they shared, and in this case, it was a problematic one.

David had tried to insist they go after her, but eventually agreed to go back to the loft with Mary Margaret on the off-chance she came back that night. They all agreed to meet first thing in the morning if she hadn't shown up yet, and everyone felt it was best to keep the news from Henry, at least until they knew where her head was at. She would hate for him to see her like this, even if he was angry when he discovered it had been kept from him.

He was putting on a brave face, but he was worried.

He couldn't tell if it was genuine fear, that she would run off and never come back, or if he just felt so stomach wrenchingly sad that it was masquerading as panic. The look on her face when she saw her mother and father flinch had just about shattered his heart there and then, eclipsing any feelings of rejection when she jumped out of his reach and turned on her heels, running from them and not looking back. He got it. He knew it wasn't personal. He just hoped she knew that when the time came and she needed someone, he would be there without question.

Hours had passed and he had been sitting in Granny's, nursing a large cup of cocoa which had now gone cold, the cream congealing on the top, after wandering aimlessly for a while. In a time like this it was usually all action. If someone was missing, there was a search party, or a meeting of sorts, with some sort of plan being developed. He felt so useless, but out of respect for her he knew chasing her down was the wrong thing to do. So he sat and he waited and he watched the door, until Granny told him she was closing up and he would have to go upstairs. As he walked past her, she reached out and patted him on the arm, a wordless gesture, but one that meant a lot. She had never been his biggest fan, and that small gesture of comfort showed that she understood. His face must have said it all.

As he headed up the stairs, it occurred to him that as horrifically painful as this was, there was something incredibly hopeful about this feeling. For him to feel as much for her as he did was something he sometimes found hard to comprehend. It had been a very long road, and his feelings for Milah were of course still there, buried somewhere in a cavity in his heart he had locked up and thrown away the key to a long time ago. But when he thought about Emma, her fiercely independent nature, her tousled blonde hair and bright eyes, her ability to catch anyone, whether she had known them ten seconds or ten years, in a lie, and the rare smile that lit up whatever room she was in, his chest seemed to swell. It was as if he couldn't quite take in enough air. Right now he was about as worried as he had ever been. Yet, at the same time, something seemed to be keeping his head above water. A sense of complete faith that they had finally reached a point that she knew she could trust him. He just hoped that trust was strong enough to override the toxic thoughts the Snow Queen had placed in her head.

He walked along the corridor and turned the corner to his room, his finger and thumb running circles over his temple where a headache threatened to prevent him from falling asleep and shutting out this day from hell, when a flash of red caught the corner of his eye.

She had her back to him, but spun around at the sound of his footsteps. He stopped dead in his tracks, and for a second she refused to meet his eye, her gaze trained at the ground.

"Swan?"

His voice was a whisper, and finally she looked up, locking her gaze with his. Her eyes were glassy, but she didn't look tearstained. She just looked lost.

She cleared her throat, which sounded dry and irritated, like she hadn't uttered a word since she disappeared all those hours ago, and spoke in a voice so quiet he could have sworn she was afraid they were being listened to.

"I just… I didn't know where else to go."

A tear escaped on the final word, slipping silently down her cheek before she swiped it away with the side of her hand. She cleared her throat for a second time before continuing.

"Is it… I mean… is it okay that I'm here?"

He took a second to process her words.

"Emma, love…"

"Because I can go, I just…" she paused, floundering, her eyes filling with tears again, "I'm sorry."

She had barely gotten her words out when he found himself striding towards her.

"Wait, Killian, don't, you saw what happened before."

Mustering all of his self control, he stopped, just a couple of footsteps from her, and found his eyebrow raising of it's own accord.

"Swan, you can't seriously think that I'd be afraid of you?"

By now she was staring at her own hands, the same fear and uncertainty in her eyes he had had in his when Gold returned his hand before their date.

"You should be. You saw what I did, I could have hurt somebody. I could have hurt you."

He took another step towards her, and she backed herself into the wall outside his room.

"Please don't do this…" she whispered, "I don't want to hurt you but I don't trust myself."

She sounded so broken he couldn't take it any more, and ignoring her mumblings he took the final step towards her, gripping her hip with his hook and tangling his hand in her hair, pulling her face towards his. The moment his hand touched her she seemed to melt into him, her previous protestations evaporating as she grabbed on to the lapels of his jacket.

"I trust you," he whispered, just inches away from her lips, his eyes fixed on hers.

He had hoped for a smile, but instead she instantly pulled him closer, closing the remaining gap between them and kissing him hard. He pushed her back against the wall, as she opened her mouth and deepened the kiss, tugging at the leather and letting her cool fingertips wander over his collarbone. If this was what it took to make her forget about the day, he was more than happy to help.

When they finally came up for air, she leaned her head against the wall and stared at him, her expression finally softening into something almost resembling content.

"Thank you," she said, absent mindedly tracing the line of his bare chest outside his jacket.

"You're quite welcome, Swan," he whispered, leaning in so his breath tickled her ear, tracing his teeth ever so lightly over her earlobe, "If we go inside you might have even more to thank me for by the morning."

His tone was playful, but with an undeniable hint of lust, his entire body aching to kick down the door and spend the rest of the night distracting her from her sorrows in ways they had both only dreamed about. She shivered against him as he trailed featherlight kisses down her neck, and her breath caught in her chest as his hook pushed against the leather of her own jacket, lifting it up to trail over the bare skin between her jeans and her t-shirt.

But then her hands were firmly on his chest, pushing him back a few inches to smile, much to their mutual disappointment, to continue their conversation

"The thank you wasn't for that. Although you really are ridiculously good at that."

He smirked as she stepped out from in front of him, tucking her now even messier hair behind her ear.

"It was for not being scared of me when everyone else was."

The mood had shifted and while his body would need a second to calm down, his mind once again flooded with concern. He reached out and took her hand, running circles across her palm.

"They didn't mean it, Emma. They were in shock."

"I know that. But the shock wasn't enough to make you doubt me," she replied, linking her fingers through his and giving his hand a squeeze, "So thank you."

He felt that familiar rush of love in his chest and before she could say any more, he pulled her to his chest once more, breathing in the faint smell of her shampoo as she nestled her head in the crook of his neck.

"It's going to be okay, Swan."

"I know..."

There was a beat, a hesitation in her voice as she pulled back and looked shiftily from him to the door behind him.

"... thing is. I don't really think going back to the loft right now is the best idea."

He had half expected her to say this. Hadn't allowed himself to hope, but something in the back of his mind had said she wouldn't want to see Mary Margaret and David just yet. He wouldn't, if it was him. Another similarity.

"So..."

He felt a smile break across his face, knowing that staying the night didn't necessarily mean "staying the night", but not having spent the night with her sleeping in his arms since the night she had been frozen, the thought of drifting off to sleep with her by his side was almost enough to make him delirious.

She watched him, her rabbit-caught-in-the-headlights expression slowly transforming into a smile as she witnessed the obvious joy on his face.

"I'm going to take that as a yes?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

A look of utter relief washed over her face, and she reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out the key and swivelling them around so she had access to the door. As the lock clicked open, she glanced at him over her shoulder

"Thanks. Again," she whispered, tilting her head up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

They made their way inside, shuffling in the dark, as he reached out and flicked on the light switch and made his way to the counter by the window. She shrugged off her jacket, throwing it casually over the side of a chair by the door.

"So," she said, running her hands through her hair, "I assume you have something stronger than cocoa to drink in this room of yours?"

He grinned, already one step ahead of her. He shook the bottle of rum in her direction and gestured for her to sit down. She collapsed on to the couch, kicking her boots off on the floor.

"Excellent assumption."

Only then did it occur to him that while he had the appropriate beverage, he had neglected to replace the glass he had taken downstairs to the diner that morning.

"One second, love," he said, making his way towards the door as she stood up.

"Hey, where are you going?!"

"To get you a glass."

Emma grinned, shaking her head.

"I can drink from the bottle, you know."

He glanced back at her and suddenly noticed how perfect she looked in the dim light of his room, hands on her hips, eyes tired but still managing to have that seductive sparkle in them when she looked his way. He couldn't help it. He took five steps back, his hand flying to her cheek and catching her in a spontaneous kiss.

"Now what sort of host would I be if I let my guest drink straight from the bottle?" he asked, his eyebrow raised and his hand running down her arm and bringing her hand up to kiss her knuckles.

She rolled her eyes, but for the first time all night she laughed.

"How chivalrous of you, pirate."

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><p>He had been gone not five minutes (having made a bit of a mess of Granny's cupboards in the process), but when he returned to his room he found her curled up on the couch, her head resting on the oversized cushion and her breathing deep and steady. He should have know she was exhausted.<p>

He closed the door as quietly as he could and walked noiselessly to the couch, placing the glass down on the table and taking a moment just to watch her. She looked so peaceful when she slept. Much as though he had had other plans for the rest of the evening, she had had a hell of a day. This was probably what she needed now - there was plenty time for the other activities he had in mind later.

He pondered how he was going to get her from her precarious position on the edge of the couch to the bed without waking her, but was left with no option but to try. He scooped her up, a move reminiscent of the day she had been frozen, and relished the feeling of her warm skin against his. No icicles on this occasion. Making his way towards the bed, he noted how unbelievably right this all felt.

As he placed her on the bed and pulled the covers over her, she stirred, grasping onto his jacket as he moved to walk away, intending to change out of his leather clothes.

"Where do you think you're going?" she whispered, her voice already thick with sleep and her eyes heavy.

He could sleep in his clothes if it meant not having to spend a second separated from her.

"Nowhere, love." He pushed back the cover and climbed in beside her, slipping his arms out of his jacket and tossing it onto the floor.

She immediately scooted closer to him, her head against his chest. Within seconds her breathing had returned to its regular rhythm, and when he was absolutely sure she was asleep, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and whispered that he loved her.

One of these days he would say it so she could hear it. But today had been eventful enough - the fact that she trusted him and had turned to him was enough for now.

A smile crept across his face and he felt himself drifting into peaceful oblivion, with her nestled in his arms. Let the Snow Queen throw her worst at them - now, he was sure, they could handle anything.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading guys! All reviews are very very very welcome :)<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**So, 4x08, that was a bit intense, wasn't it?! As usual, the episode inspired me (so many feels), so my imagination got a little bit away with me and I turned it into the next chapter. As always, the characters don't belong to me - I just love them! Hope you enjoy, and thanks so much for all the reviews, follows and favourites so far :)**

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><p>On reflection, the whole day had been like a prolonged moment of madness. She couldn't really have thought giving up her magic was the answer, could she? She shuddered to think what might have happened had she gone through with it, and taken up Rumple's offer.<p>

It was past midnight and Mary Margaret and David had set off home with Elsa and Henry to relieve Belle of her babysitting duties. Emma leaned back against the railing on the porch of the house and breathed a long sigh of relief, trying to empty her mind of all the thoughts racing around, questioning her actions and reliving her frantic decisions. But there was one thought she simply couldn't shake.

She couldn't help but notice how, over the past few weeks, a switch had gone off in her head. It had happened gradually at first - her resolve weakening when he told her he'd given up his ship for her, and her need to keep him at arm's length beginning to melt away when he held on to her for dear life after the ice cave incident, and promised he was a survivor, and that she'd never lose him. Now, all of a sudden, it was like she'd been magnetised. Any time they were in the same room she found herself at his side, not even necessarily touching him, but just standing close enough that the vibration of his breath through his body seemed to connect with hers. And the best part? She had been alone for so long she knew she didn't need him. It might feel like she did sometimes, when she was doubting herself, or taking on some terrible monster, but the reality was she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. So that could only mean one thing.

She absolutely, completely, undeniably, wanted him.

He'd been right, back in Neverland, when he said he'd win her heart because she'd want him.

The elation she had felt when Elsa convinced her not to give up her magic had coursed through her entire body, and the moment he had appeared the room she felt her heart go into overdrive. He had literally run to her, grabbing on to her and pulling her to him, breathing her in before kissing her with fervour - had Elsa not been there she wondered just where that moment would have led.

Now she had a moment alone, and she wondered if the shiver down her spine was a result of the cold night air, or the recent memory of his mouth on hers. It had lasted just seconds, but it was as if he couldn't get close enough to her. She must have really scared him - either that, or there was something else going on that she didn't know about yet. And honestly? She wasn't sure her exhausted brain was up for contemplating that.

She had felt his absence since the minute she and Elsa had left the building, but she was so caught up in the relief of the moment that she had allowed him out of her sight - the joy of being reunited with Henry, and her parents, and forgetting the horrible doubts that had plagued her after the Snow Queen convinced her she was out of control, was more than enough to occupy her. But now they were gone and all she wanted was some time alone with him.

As if he had read her mind, or responded to her magnetic pull, he appeared in the doorway, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as she met his eyes. She revelled in the way her stomach felt like it flipped and her pulse quickened at the mere sight of him. He was looking at her that same way he had been before, his blue eyes burning a hole through her as his eyes drifted down over her entire body to her feet and back again, a perfect, silent moment where time seemed to stop moving and she wondered why she suddenly felt that she wasn't getting enough oxygen into her lungs.

She was overwhelmed by everything she wanted to say to him. Part of her wanted to go through the entire events of the day, share every moment and thought and fear she had had with him, while another wanted to tell him how happy she'd been to see him, how her joy at rediscovering control over her powers had been multiplied when he had pulled her into him. Words swirled together in her brain, but the transition from her mind to her mouth seemed to be failing her. Something about the way he was looking at her was so unnerving, in the best possible way, that anything she tried to say felt insufficient. So instead, she took several steps forward and wrapped herself up in his already waiting arms.

His strong, steady arms pulled her close to his chest, and though he had hugged her tightly to him on plenty of occasions before, this felt different. She imagined if he could have fuzed her to him and never let her go, he would have. And at this moment, as she breathed in the familiar scent of him, she honestly didn't think she'd have minded. But through the strength of his embrace she felt a tremor, the tiniest tremble of nerves or fear or emotion that she couldn't quite put her finger on. She wriggled an arm free and pulled back, tracing the side of his face with her hand, her thumb smoothing over his cheekbone, the line of his stubble and eventually down the centre of his lips, pausing when she reached his jawline. His eyes never left hers, the intensity and intimacy of the moment leaving her feeling entirely open and vulnerable, but bringing another wave of joy to her when she realised that at not one moment had she had any urge to pull away, or to run. She continued the trail of her fingertips down the side of his neck and on to his chest, cocking her head to the side as she noted the ultra reflective surface of his eyes in the dim light. Those were most definitely tears. He noticed her notice, and quickly blinked, shifting his gaze to watch her hand continue journeying down quickly across the planes of his chest and onto his stomach, his thin modern day black t-shirt the only thing separating her palm from his skin. Her "saviour" brain was calling out for her to ask him what was going on, but her lust, possibly love flooded mind silenced those calls, acknowledged his lack of volunteering an explanation, and selected plan B.

In a blur of hands and lips and breaths she collided into him, pushing him flush against the door and relishing the speed at which he responded, his hand finding the small of her back as she crashed her hips into his. His mouth hungrily found hers, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip as she tangled her fingers in his hair. If someone had told her that morning she would be ending the day from hell with a moment like this, she could more than have lived with that.

Things had gotten heated before - several times over, actually. But something about the way he was kissing her now, and the buzz running through her veins as his hand slipped under the hem of her tank top, cool fingers grazing her heated skin, made her think something had changed. There was an urgency in his touch, in the heaviness of his breathing when he tore his mouth from hers to trail kisses down the side of her neck, that felt like this time things weren't going to end where they always had before.

"Killian," she managed to whisper, trying desperately to control her breathing.

He pulled his attention from her collarbone to look directly at her again, his hair mussed from her hand, and his eyes dark and dangerously beautiful.

She held on to the lapels of his jacket and pulled him back, just a couple of steps, focusing all of her attention on the handle of the door. As expected, it clicked open, and she grinned at him, a momentary look of pride replacing the lust in his eyes as she proved once more that she was again in control of her powers. The pause in their previous activities hung in the air as they seemed to drink in the sight of each other again, his hand reaching up to skim across her cheek, that same look of longing and fear passing across his face. Her body was, however, way ahead of her head, and she found herself grasping onto the chain around his neck, dragging his mouth towards herself and pressing another searing kiss to his lips.

"We don't have company now..." she murmered against his lips, pushing her hands against his shoulders and walking him into the entry hall, kicking the door closed behind her. Once again the invisible magentism brought them crashing into one another. One of his arms locked around her waist, while the other trailed down her hip onto her leg, and before she knew it she was in his arms, as he carried her towards the oversized couch in the front reception room. She was dizzy and breathless and completely and utterly caught up in how she felt about him, and it was bliss.

The moment he placed her down on the couch and sat down beside her she reversed their positions, immediately sliding onto his lap and rejoining her lips with his. He could kiss like nothing she had ever experienced before, and his confident hand tangled in her hair, but somewhere deep beneath the rush of hormones and emotion, she could still feel the slight tremble. Convincing herself it was just relief was becoming easier with every touch of his mouth to her skin, but it was still there.

She grasped her hands in the leather of his jacket and pushed it over his shoulders, and he shrugged it off, his attention never leaving her, the cold metal of his hook digging slightly into her hip after the jacket was discarded. She ran her hands over his shoulders and began to slide them down over his chest, pausing for a moment with her hand flush against his heart.

Only it wasn't thundering the way hers was.

Her pulse was racing and she could tell from the way his body was reacting to every touch and every kiss that this moment meant just as much to him as it did to her. Yet she couldn't feel a thing. She pulled her lips from his and her gaze fell to her hand, as she ran it up from his chest to his neck, desperately tracing her fingers around to find his pulse point. His hand suddenly stalled in the hair at the back of her neck, and she glanced up to meet his gaze.

The look on his face said it all. She felt an overwhelming sense of panic rising in her chest and she attempted to catch her breath. She opened her mouth to speak, but for the second time that night, words failed her.

"Gold took it," he whispered.

In three words, her entire world came crashing down around her. The frantic thoughts which had flooded her mind earlier in the day and been washed away by his kisses came hurtling back into her brain, and she felt sick and lightheaded.

"I… I don't understand, how could this happen?" she rambled, her thoughts now entirely removed from the feel of his body against hers, yet her actual body seemingly unable to move, frozen in his arms and determined to remain as close to him as physically possible.

He looked ashamed and immediately she feared the worst.

"I'm afraid I made a deal with the devil, Swan. I did it for you and let's just say it backfired. There's no excuse."

"What deal? When did this happen?"

"It was a…"

"Wait…"

She cut him off, her finger flying to his lips.

"You promised me," she whispered, tears prickling at her eyes, "You said you were a survivor, how could you be so stupid? How could you trust him?"

He blinked back the tears of his own, shaking his head and reaching up to cup her cheek - the urge to slap him was overpowered by the need to feel him, real and solid and alive against her.

"I'm so sorry, love. I'll explain it all to you, I promise. And I'll understand if you don't trust me after this…"

She allowed silence to envelope the room for a second, her hand absent-mindedly finding its way back to the chain around his neck and grasping on to it, the room spinning around her.

"... I'll hate it, but I'll understand."

She took a breath and lifted her gaze to meet his, feeling that the magnitude of this situation hadn't properly hit her yet. She continued to fidget with the chain, unsure of what to say next.

"I think, Swan, that I'm living on borrowed time here," he began, his voice rough and shaky, "The dark one can compel me to do his bidding, and then kill me at any time. And if that's the case then there's something I need you to know."

He didn't have to say it. She knew exactly what was coming, and it made it even more impossible for her to keep any air of control over her emotions in that moment.

"I think I know…"

Her voice was barely a whisper, and somehow she had begun to pull him slightly closer towards her by the chain, her other hand seeking out his which was settled on her waist.

"I need you to hear it," he whispered back, his voice pure gravel and his hook coming up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. She wasn't sure she was emotionally ready to hear this.

"Emma… I am, and will for the rest of my life be, completely in love with you."

He paused, allowing the words to hang in the air as her breath hitched, almost as if she was gulping in the sentence, to process it somewhere deep within her chest.

"I said I was a fan of every part of you, but that was wrong. I should have said I love every part of you. Because I do, and I have done for quite some time."

Her grasp on the chain tightened and she tried desperately to blink back the tears that were blurring her vision. She hadn't wanted to admit it to herself until now, but suddenly the words were tumbling out of her mouth and she had no control over them.

"I love you too," she fought through the sob that threatened to catch in her throat, "I didn't realise quite how much until today, but I do."

His face lit up so much it was almost enough to distract her from their current disaster.

"Which is why I'm so furious with you," she continued, dropping his hand from hers and slapping it against his chest, the other remaining tightly around the peculiar charms at the end of his chain.

The light in his eyes dimmed for just a second, before the smile burst across his face again.

"It's almost worth it to hear you say that," he replied.

For a second she wanted to berate him for being jovial, but her heart was now in control again, swelling with joy at the realisation that in this moment of potential chaos he had just confessed what she had secretly known for a long time. Hearing it out loud, coming straight from him, with his arms around her, however, made her feel more than she had even allowed herself to imagine.

With that she gave in and dragged his mouth back to hers, pouring every ounce of passion she felt for him into the kiss, both of her hands flying to his face, her fingers softly tracing his features while he kissed her harder and more intensely than she thought possible.

When eventually they broke apart, she found herself whispering it again, as if to make sure he fully understood.

"I love you, Killian. And I'm going to get your heart back."

He smiled at her, resting his forehead against hers.

"I wouldn't entrust it to anyone else."

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><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed this - how will we survive two weeks till the next episode! Reviews are very welcome, have a great week :)<strong>


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