Author's Note: Hey, guys, I'm back! Sorry for being gone for so long. I'm still working on "Just Give Me A Reason", so sorry about that. These two characters really enjoy prolonged sexy times. Haha. I've about four thousand words to go for the next chapter, which will be about 10,000 words. My way of making it up to those of you that were waiting for an update on that. For now, enjoy this little one shot, which was inspired by spoiler lines and footage from tonight's episode. Hope you like it. It's really fluffy towards the end, but I hope you enjoy the angst it begins with.

P.S. If you read my other one shot, "Need You Now", did you catch the "Lost" reference? Haha, let me know. Because, you know, reviews keep me happy! And keep me writing!

P.S.S. I have a surprise lurking around the corner for you guys, but I don't really know when I'm going to be able to get it out. I'll try to get it out soon. Hopefully it's a good surprise. I think so, but you never know.

There actually wasn't any specific musical inspiration for this chapter, so let's just say, Taylor Swift, and maybe a little bit of The Civil Wars.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, unfortunately...

"Emma!" He yells at her. Well, not at her, but...toward her.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you!"

'Damn right you should be sorry', she thinks. 'And now you get the silent treatment'.

Honestly though, what the fuck was he thinking?

Scratch that. He wasn't thinking.

And of course he wasn't thinking. The man never thinks. Scary pirate with a hook, right, so why, why, why, should he think before he acts?

...Because its the SMART thing to do?

Damn pirate.

He should have listened to her. Because if he had, they wouldn't be in this situation. If he had, they could be home right now, watching Netflix and eating ice cream, or something as lovely as that (that'll never happen, not in Storybrooke). But he didn't. And now they are here: at an impasse. All because the high and mighty one, Killian Jones, cannot follow simple directions.

"Emma! Sweetheart!" He yells, as he catches up to her fast-paced, speed walking and reaches around her to grab her upper arm with his hand. He spins her around to face him. She glares at him and says, "Don't call me that." in a low and menacing tone.

He grins, stupid and perfect and-ugh. "Got you to talk to me, eh, love?" He says, with an air of cocky confidence.

"Ugh." She scoffs at him. "What is your problem? Can't you just leave me alone? I don't want to talk to you about this." She mutters darkly, before turning to leave.

"Wait, Emma!" He exclaims, grabbing her arm and turning her back towards him once again. "Why can't you just talk to me? I know that I should have listened to you, I shouldn't have gone off like that, and for that I apologize, but sweetheart-"

"I said, don't call me that!" Emma interrupts him, her voice raising with each word out of her mouth. "Do you even understand what you did? Do you even think at all?!"

"Emma, I-"

"No!" She interrupts again. "No! You will listen to me. You're an idiot, a fucking idiot! You went out there when I told you not to. When I told you that David and I could handle it. We had it under control!"

She's shaking now, and he's uncertain as to whether its with anger, passion, or, perhaps, fear.

He has no bloody clue.

"I told you I was sorry. It's over now. What is still troubling you?" He asks carefully.

"You could have died!" She yells in his face, her voice wavering and cracking on the last word. Her eyes shine with unshed tears and he realizes just what he's done to her.

Bloody hell.

He thought he was being a hero, that he was protecting her. He went out with Elsa to track that Snow Queen, even though Emma had specifically told him not to.

'David and I can handle it, Killian. It's fine. Just-show Elsa around town. I'll see you soon.' She had said sweetly and kissed his cheek before she left.

And he'd be damned if he was going to let her go into the eye of the storm all alone.

Hell no. He'd almost lost her just days before, and he didn't plan on going through that again anytime soon (or ever, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it).

So, he'd gone into the forest to track the Icy Slattern of a woman, with the help of the only other person in town well acquainted with magical properties of a frozen nature (Elsa needed no convincing at all. The woman had taken a fast liking to Emma-who wouldn't, the woman was amazing, bloody perfect-and would do just about anything to get her younger sister back. Including, apparently, going after one of the most treacherous villains of the Southern Isles. Or so she had said.).

In and out, it was a piece of cake. He'd kill the Witch who dared to threaten the woman he loved, and then he'd call it a day.

He had not anticipated the potency of said Witch's power.

Nor had he anticipated her apparent animosity toward Elsa and anyone who decided to get in the way of her plan (Emma). And the way to get to Emma Swan, as the Witch so cleverly and quickly discovered, was to hurt Killian Jones.

(And honestly if the situation had not been so dire, he'd have teased her about her loving feelings for him.)

While he and Elsa had been confronting the Witch in the forest (and she had been verbally insulting poor Elsa. Bad form, if you asked him.), he had said something to her about how Emma would stop her like she'd done all the other villains that threatened this town. The Snow Queen had apparently seen something flash in his eyes, quick and almost unreadable (but unmistakably, the look he always had whenever he mentioned, saw, or heard of Emma), and used it to her advantage.

She froze some very sharp icicles above his head.

She'd planned on killing him, planned on breaking Emma's heart.

To make her weak.

So that she'd win.

What she hadn't planned on was just how good Emma Swan and Prince Charming were at their jobs.

Emma and David had appeared then, drawn toward the scene by Elsa's terrified scream of protest, guns drawn and expressions determined.

"What the hell is going on here?" Emma yelled, her gun pointed toward the Witch, David standing right next to her.

"Oh, and this must be the renowned Savior. Am I right, dear Elsa?" The Witch said sweetly, with a sinister smirk on her face.

"Who are you and what are you doing?" Emma demanded, taking in the scene, and the fact that Killian was moments away from being impaled upon an icicle.

"Well, I am the one who's been freezing your dear townsfolk, while sweet Elsa here has been taking all the credit. What is it, you said earlier, pirate? Bad form? Yes, that's it. Bad form, Elsa. Bad form." The Snow Queen taunted.

"Alright, now just calm down." David added, ever the voice of reason. "Just let them go, and tell us what you want. We might be able to help you."

"I don't need your help." The woman seethed, losing the sweet act. "What I need is that foolish girl's head on a plate! And I don't need anyone standing in my way!" She turned and pointed at Emma. "That includes you, Savior! So, let's see just how much you care about the pirate here, shall we?" She flicked her wrist and caused an icicle to fall just mere inches from Killian's head.

"No!" Emma choked out, eyes widened with fear.

"Ah, so you do care for him." She giggled. "Well, now this'll just kill you." She said with a smirk.

She used her magic to hold Killian in place as she caused the sharpest icicle any of them had ever seen to appear above his head. Killian barely registered a thing that was happening as he fought against the hold of her magic. He heard Emma's desperate scream, but that was all.

Elsa and Emma used the combined forces of their magic to send the Witch flying back, as David ran to secure her. With the Witch out of the way for the moment, her magic lost it's potency, and Killian was free from becoming a shish-kebab.

"You may have won today. But just wait, my dears. Tomorrow is another day." The Witch said with a strange calmness to her voice, and then she disappeared.

David sat there for full minute staring at the place she had just vacated, completely stumped as to where she had gone.

Emma had rushed over to him to see if he was okay, but after that, she had given him the silent treatment that had continued until now.

He hadn't realized that it was because she was frightened of what he had done. Of what had almost happened to him.

Not that he thought she hadn't cared, but with Emma Swan, everything is just so hot and cold that he wasn't entirely sure of the depths of her affection.

Well, apparently, now he is.

"You could have died." She repeats, more softly than before. She needs him to know, even if (at the moment) she's too afraid to say the actual words, she needs him to know what he means to her. "You don't listen and you don't think and I-I care about you, alright? I care about you, and everyone I've ever cared about is dead now, and I don't want to lose you." She looks up into his eyes then, startled to see the strong emotion lurking within their depths. "I can't lose you, too." She whispers brokenly.

"Emma, you're not going to lose me." He says firmly, trying to regain a hold on her gaze.

"How can you know that?"

He takes a step closer to her. "Because I know that I care about you, too. Because I know me, I know us, and I know that neither of us would allow ourselves to be parted from the other-or allow the other to be parted from ourselves-if we had anything to say about it." He smiles at her then, and reaches his hand up to place a strand of her hair behind her ear. "You won't lose me. I'm a very selfish man, love, and don't think for a moment that I intend to be parted from you anytime in the near future. I won't leave you, and I'm sorry. I won't scare you like that again, but you have to understand that I was only doing it to protect you."

She sighs, and the pain and fear is still visible in her gaze. "You don't need to protect me." She states firmly (stubbornly, if he might add). "I can take care of myself."

He chuckles then, low and amused. "Oh, I know that well enough, darling. But you need you know that I'm always going to do it anyway. Because you deserved to be protected and looked after, Emma. You deserve to be put first." 'You deserve everything,' he whispers in his head. But it's too soon for her to hear that. Too soon.

She hangs her head then. "I'm just not used to this-people putting me first." She says, like it's some great, shameful secret, and his heart breaks for her all the more.

He waits until she meets his eyes again, and he smiles at her softly. He touches her arm as he speaks. "Well, get used to it." He whispers. And, with that, he takes one long step closer to her, until the toes of his boots are hitting the toes of hers, reaches his arm around behind her, pulls her to him and kisses her.

This isn't like any other kiss they've ever shared before. He puts every emotion he's feeling into it, all the love he has for her, willing her to feel just how much she means to him. And that she does.

She responds almost immediately, and grasps the front of his jacket, her hands on his chest, gripping tightly. He holds her to him with his hand on the small of her back, and uses his other arm to circle around her waist, to hold her even more tightly (if that was even possible).

He angles his head to deepen the kiss and she follows suit, opening her mouth just slightly when his tongue licks a stripe along her bottom lip, persuading her to part them.

He thrusts his tongue into her mouth, roughly, but when it tangles with hers, it falls into a gentle, sensual rhythm, yet never lacking in passion. She reaches her left arm up, and with her hand, grabs a fistful of his hair and pulls. This spurs him on and he grunts into her mouth. She releases his hair and brings her arm back down to his chest. He takes his right hand off of her back, yet keeps his hold on her with his left arm, and tangles his hand into her hair, pulling her up and into him, so much so that the heels of her feet lift off the ground, in an attempt to sate his desire. She moans loudly, which excites him. He pulls her even closer and sucks her bottom lip roughly into his mouth before reluctantly pulling away to allow them both to attain some extremely necessary oxygen.

They're still holding each other quite closely when their lips break apart, and he lowers his forehead to rest on hers while they catch their breath.

"You see," he starts breathlessly, a smile in his voice. "You will not lose me. I'd never leave you. Kissing you is far too addictive." He jokes as he twirls a strand of her hair around his fingers.

Her eyes are closed as he speaks, but a soft smile creeps it's way onto her face and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, this is where she belongs.

Maybe this time she won't get left behind.

He won't leave her.

And in her heart, she knows this to be true.

Because...well...he loves her. That much is certain.