A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been keeping up with the "Drinks with the Prince" series. I really appreciate the reviews and favorites. I means a lot to me. This one is a bit short because Killian's not very talkative. Hope you enjoy it anyway! Thanks again for reading. —SA

Since Zelena's ultimatum, Hook wondered just how many sunsets he'd have left in his future. The one he was gazing at now was peaceful. Nothing extraordinary, just a slow shift in color in the sky — streaks of pale gray clouds breaking the smooth movement from pale orange into pink fading to lavender finally giving way to the deep blue that matched the darkened ocean, marking the end of the day. An evening like any other. Only tonight, in his current predicament, he was one day closer to either watching Emma's destruction, her family's, and should either of those happen, his own.

His flask was heavy and smooth from years of handling, the weight of the liquid inside rolling back and forth with his restless mind and equally restless hand. He wanted to tell someone — had intended to tell David even — but then Regina gave him a glimpse at Emma's true potential and he was lost for a solution. After seeing just that small but powerful example, he knew to the depths of his being that Emma could...would...defeat the witch. Risking her magic, if it was their only way out of this mess, was not an option. Instead, keeping his distance from her was the only alternative that made sense, and it would free him up to watch over her family, protect them from Zelena. He knew the longer he removed himself from Emma the sooner Zelena would make her move and he had to be ready.

Well, tomorrow he would be ready. Right now he needed to escape...everything...even if it was for a short time. The sea was off limits — he had no proper ship for evading flying monkeys and chasing the horizon would take him too far from Emma and her family if they really needed him. He wouldn't risk it. But a little rum wouldn't hurt. He'd barely removed the top from the flask and felt the spicy burn down his throat before he heard the crunch of familiar footsteps getting closer on the path behind him.

David sat down on the large piece of driftwood next to Hook. He heard David chuckle to himself at some inside joke he had with himself, no doubt, as he looked out at the boats docked in the harbor in front of them. Hook handed David his flask preemptively. The Prince lifted it in salute before taking a sip from it and handing it back.

"I feel like we need to get you a lo-jack or a phone...maybe set up a bat signal somewhere."

"I've no bloody idea what most of that is, mate, and I'm not interested. You seem to manage to find me well enough," Hook sighed. "Especially when I've got my rum handy," he added, stowing the flask back in its proper place under his coat.

David ignored the dig. "Regina asked to see us, and Emma wanted me and Mary Margaret to pick you up while she's getting Henry settled in back at Granny's."

"Surely the Queen doesn't need me if she's got you all," Hook said with a kernel of hope he could dodge out of any social gatherings and get his head straight about stepping back from Emma.

David shrugged and shook his head. "She asked for you by name, didn't say for what."

"So now we are all supposed to jump when she commands it? How times have changed..." Hook uttered, vexation dripping from his voice that he would find no peace tonight, just more reminders how truly alone he was in his cursed state.

"Hey, I get it," David said as he gripped Hook's shoulder. "We are all frustrated with this situation."

Laughing sharply, Hook bit out, "You don't get it at all, mate."

David's arm dropped and he stared at Hook with a hardness he hadn't seen directed his way for a while and it twisted in his gut.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean? You think I'm overjoyed at having my unborn child threatened? You think I'm happy over the fact that my only other child is going to be the one to have to bear the brunt of protecting us all...again?"

Stricken at his own continued selfishness and inability to learn from his mistakes — in spite of everything that had happened — more than he was at David's words, Hook wished he could take back what he said. He shook his head and made a tight fist that he ground into his thigh hard enough he expected to see a bruise there in the morning. "No! I'm sure you aren't. That's not what I —"

David stood up abruptly, hands on his hips, looking down at Hook. "Fuck off, Killian. I don't know what's gotten into you, but we're all in this together. Don't forget that." He crossed his arms over his chest, and frowned, looking so much like his daughter. He made to leave but Hook stopped him.

Hanging his head and gritting his teeth, Hook said, "David. Wait. I'm sorry."

"I hope so," David said, obviously still slightly ruffled at their misunderstanding. His brows were furrowed and he looked...disappointed, further making Killian feel like an ass. Nonetheless, after a few seconds, David held out his arm to Hook who finally looked up at him gratefully when he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. He gripped David's forearm tightly with his hand and hauled himself upright.

The two men looked at each other for a beat or two — Hook still seeking forgiveness not just for his poor choice of words, but for everything that was going to happen because of him — and then David gave him a brief smile and released his grip on Hook's arm.

David glanced at his watch and said with a sigh, "Let's go or we're gonna be late for whatever Regina's got up her sleeve."

"Aye," Hook responded, reluctantly moving in step with David toward the car where Mary-Margaret waited for them. He still wanted nothing more than to be on his own to think things through, but now his absence would be too conspicuous. He held on to the notion that maybe Regina had a solution and tonight would not be a total waste of time.

Interrupting Hook's thoughts, David said with excited curiosity, "Tell, me Hook, what do you think of the name 'Samuel' for a boy?"