A/N: This has been a long time coming, hasn't it? I hope you enjoy this next snippet, as well as it should be pretty obvious that none of the characters are mine! R&R s'il vous plait!

Emma sipped her hot chocolate idly, her body tucked into the sofa underneath a soft throw blanket.

It was her favourite time of night, the space of hours where everything was calm, everything was quiet. Looking out the window she noticed that the sky was the deep purple of a sunny day that had not yet faded from the horizon, as if the moon and the sun wanted to bid each other their last farewells before parting ways. It was an in between sky, and they had always been Emma's favourite.

The house was quiet, her boys out with her father, Robin Hood and Robin's son Roland on some manly adventure in the woods that Emma had opted not to partake in. She loved nature but preferred to admire it from a comfortable distance whenever possible.

That being said, Emma took her sparse amount of downtime from the role of wife and mother to indulge in the part of her life that was solely hers, those moments where she was only Emma and nothing was expected of her except to merely exist. Moments like that were hard to come by; mornings where she just happened to be up before Killian left for work and Henry got ready for school, the occasional lazy afternoon when she didn't have to be at work and had the apartment to herself and nights such as these when her loves were otherwise occupied and had no need of her.

With a luxurious stretch, Emma set her cocoa on the coffee table and picked up the book she had been determined to find time to read for the past month. The novel was about a mother faced with the trials and tribulations of the Great Depression, and Emma found herself quite connected to the story and the struggles that the mother faces within the novel. Emma knew what it was like to be expected to fail, and she also knew how frustrating it could be to have no one have faith in you, to have no one to turn to when things got tough.

But that's behind me now, Emma chastised herself. There's no need to open old wounds.

She had a life now, a life she loved with a family that she adored.

She had a son who was more to her than she could have ever imagined, ever anticipated. Henry was the light of her life and she was so thankful to be able to have a chance to know him. He was so smart, so thoughtful. He was everything she would have wanted him to be, and Emma was so thankful to Regina for making sure that Henry was given every opportunity to flourish and prosper. Without Henry, Emma would always have had a vast emptiness in her heart that could never have been filled no matter how hard she tried. She remembered her life in Boston, how she had desperately wished for someone to remove the loneliness in her bones every year on a single birthday candle. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine she would get everything she had ever wanted and more.

She didn't realize that she was even capable of loving to such a capacity, that she would be able to let herself love again after everything she had been through, until Henry had bulldozed his way into her life. He had effectively bypassed every barrier she had built around herself for protection until he was dearer to her than anyone she had ever known.

Except Killian, the little voice in the back of her mind reminded her, and Emma had to agree with it. Killian Jones- her devastatingly sexy, astoundingly kind-hearted pirate- was the only other person to so effectively infiltrate her defences and find a permanent place in her heart, her mind.

God, Emma reflected, that man never relented. He fought like hell for me, and I'm so glad he saw in me what I never saw in myself.

For Emma, Killian was everything that she had longed for in her past relationships. He was her stability, the scale upon which she balanced the chaos that was her life. Her pirate gave her shelter when she felt like she was being surrounded on all sides, his embrace a respite from every stress. He challenged her, pushed her to be more than she thought she could be. Killian inspired a well of courage in Emma that only came from the knowledge that she was loved, that he would support her in whatever she chose, in whoever she chose to be. She would never be able to thank him for that.

The decision to let her mind wander to her boys- though they were never really far from her thoughts- made a deep ache grow in her chest. She missed them, missed their company.

Emma missed the way that Henry usually stole a sip of her cocoa, eventually rousing Emma from her perch to make him his own cup because he had stolen so much of hers that if she didn't stop him there would be none left for herself. Since Emma would have been at the stove anyway, Killian would casually suggest that she make him one as well, all the while giving her that devilish smile that she could never make herself resist.

One night after such an incident had occurred, Emma and Killian had retired to their room and he had undressed her with his usually expediency, his touch quietly stirring and unleashing a heat in her belly that the cocoa never had. Emma had been quickly immersed in sensory pleasures, her toes curling into the mattress and her fingers twining in his windswept locks. His lips had moved over her skin like the tide, ebbing away and then returning to the places that made her writhe with sensation. While he followed the map of her skin with his mouth he spoke to her, his voice gruff against her skin. At one point he had murmured into her hipbone that the hot chocolate had been delicious but she tasted better, and Emma had seized into a fit of giggles at the horrible line before drawing him into her once again.

Smiling and deciding that reading was a lost cause, Emma set the book aside, pulled the blanket up around herself and closed her eyes, her mind lost to adolescent antics and sinful kisses.

It seemed like only moments later that calloused fingers were stroking her cheek, her temples. She batted at the touch playfully, not wanting to leave her current state of semi-consciousness.

The caresses persisted, the fingertips just a bit more insistent than before.

"Wake up, love. You'll strain your neck sleeping like that. Let's get you to bed." Killian's soft voice reached her ears slowly, as if it had to move through the sleep-induced fog that her brain was under before she could comprehend it.

Emma wove his ring-covered fingers through her own, her own dainty jewelry almost lost in the sea of engraved silver and gemstones. She pressed his palm against her cheek, finding comfort in the worn texture of his skin, the dry warmth of it. His return had made her realize to what extent she had actually longed for him. "When did you get home?"

She opened her eyes to meet his cerulean blue ones, so earnest and kind. His face was level with hers- he was kneeling by her head on the ground- and she could see with vivid clarity the intricate details of his face, albeit from her point of view they were sideways.

"About an hour ago. I wanted to let you have a little more rest before I disturbed you. You looked so peaceful in your sleep, less worried. I didn't wanted to take that away from you so soon." He said, his voice lulling in its gravelly tone.

Emma sat up slowly, stretching as she did so. Killian was right. She was sore from sleeping in such an awkward position. She rubbed her eyes, took in her surroundings.

The sky was pitch black now, night in its truest form. Killian had turned on the lamp beside the sofa and the room was given a golden tint with its light.

Emma tucked in her legs so Killian could slide onto the couch beside her, preceded to drape herself over his lap leisurely.

He smelled like evergreens, like musk. He's most certainly been in Robin's presence, Emma thought ruefully. She buried her face in his neck to find that smell she always associated with him; clover honey and leather and sea breeze. There, she thought contentedly. Just there. That's Killian.

"Where's Henry?" Emma asked, her voice slurred with sleep.

Killian stroked his hand down her spine, slipping it under her plaid shirt to find her warm skin. He drew random patterns on her skin, making Emma purr in satisfaction. "He wanted to spend more time with Regina, so I told him that he could stay with her tonight. He'll be back tomorrow in time for lunch."

Emma nodded in confirmation, her eyes fluttering closed. "That's fine, as long as Robin isn't teaching him how to pick up women."

Killian barked out a laugh, the sound rumbling in his chest. "It appears as if Robin isn't in the most ideal of positions when it comes to significant others at the moment, now is he?"

Emma shook her head, but the gesture was more akin to nuzzling than any acknowledgement of speech.

"I don't regret it." Emma whispered, leaning back to look into Killian's honest eyes. They were never judgemental when they gazed at her, never harsh when they swept her away in their silken blue depths. "How can I when a life was spared? Regina was in the wrong. I couldn't sit back and do nothing when Marian was to be executed."

Killian pursed his lips in sympathy, his eyes squinting at the corners in the way that they did when he was concentrating very hard on something. "No one blames you, love. You did the right thing, the brave thing."

Emma shook her head insistently, her grip on Killian's shoulder's tightening. "Regina does. My decision ruined her relationship with Robin, something that I knew made her happy. I took it away from her in one fell swoop."

Killian moved his palm over her back in soothing motions. "If they're meant to be, if what they have is true love, then they will be together no matter what obstacles they may face. They will find a way."

Emma dropped her forehead to Killian's, breathing him in. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to keep dredging this back up to the surface but I can't look at Robin, can't have a conversation with Regina without seeing the chaos my choice has caused. I feel like I'm looking to you all the time for reassurance that I didn't make a massive mistake and that's not fair to you. I'm sorry."

Hook guided her face back into the crook of his neck, settled their entwined bodies back into the couch. "You can't carry the whole world on your shoulders all the time, Emma. Let me relieve you of at least a small part of your burdens, a few of your fears. Allow yourself to need someone else once in a while. You're strong, but sometimes strength is knowing when you don't want to face the world alone anymore. Sometimes strength is being able to ask for help." Killian's voice had turned into a lulling wave of comforting words, and Emma held the words close to her heart, letting them fill the spaces in between her heartbeats.

Taking a deep breath against Killian's shirt, Emma leaned up so that her mouth was against Killian's ear.

"Killian?" Emma murmured, her fingers gripping his shirt. Her voice was quiet, wobbly consonants and feeble vowels.

"Aye, lass?"

Emma leaned into him just a bit more, molded her body even more tightly into his. "I don't want to face the world alone anymore."

"Okay, love." His arms tightened around her, holding her against his heart. "Okay."

Emma smiled, in love from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. "Now take me to bed, pirate. Part of your burden lifting duties include thoroughly ravishing me at every opportunity."

Her pirate lifted her from the sofa with care, carried her up the stairs as if she were something dainty and precious, as if she were cherished. On the final step of the staircase Killian stopped, drew Emma back to look at her thoughtfully.

"What is it?" Emma asked, combing her fingers through his hair.

Killian shook his head, seemingly enraptured by whatever it was he saw in her face. "It's nothing important, love. I'm just having another one of those moments where I don't fully believe that you weren't born a pirate."

Emma laughed and kissed him playfully, teasingly, before pointing at their bedroom sternly. "To the bedroom, Jones. That's an order."
Killian obliged her, placing her amid the rumpled sheets of their bed. "Aye aye, Captain Swan."