"In silent screams, in wildest dreams, I never dreamed of this."

Emma thanked the delivery boy and closed the door with her foot. Putting the Chinese takeout down on the counter, she looked around her empty apartment. Neal had picked Henry up earlier for their bi-weekly sleepover and she already missed him. Ruby and Mary Margaret both offered to come over and keep her company, but they would just hound her about Killian and she still didn't want to talk about it. The past week had given Emma emotional whiplash. One minute she felt resolute about her decision, the next she ached with regret when she thought of the look on Killian's face when she left him on the sidewalk. She went from being mortified that David had talked to Killian about her, to a little jealous of the idea of Tink and Killian together, to angry with herself for feeling so much after knowing him for so little. Eventually she'd arrive back at her original decision, only to begin the cycle all over again. It was exhausting.

In her most private moments though, she let herself admit the truth. That none of that really mattered, and she was simply using it all as an excuse. That if it wasn't for David's steel trap of a memory - something she thinks he uses mainly to keep inventory of the names of assholes Emma shouldn't date - she would have found another reason to run. She wonders what it'd be like spending the night with Killian instead of the new book she picked up this afternoon when she was itching for a distraction. Now she saw the paperback sitting next to her boxes of Chinese food for what it was, a hollow and fruitless attempt to safely fill her life with someone else's fictionalized one.

Emma sighed and began opening the boxes, ready to eat her feelings when she heard the doorbell ring behind her. She knew immediately who it was. As amazing as Yum Yum's Chinese was, they always forgot the sweet sauce for the crab rangoons and she had become so fed up after the third time that she called and threatened to take her business elsewhere if it happened again. Clearly, they were afraid to lose her frequent orders, so now the delivery boy was in the habit of making two trips for her. One with her food, one with the sweet sauce they inevitably forgot. She yanked open the door, about to ask how hard it could possibly be to remember the damn sweet sauce, when she saw Killian standing there.

"Swan," he let out in a shaky breath.

Emma just stared at him, mouth hanging open slightly. He smiled sheepishly and handed her a little baggy which she recognized as Yum Yum's. He must have intercepted the delivery boy.

"Are you stalking me?" she asked as she grabbed the bag from him.

Killian's face fell. "Well, I guess it could seem like that, love, but I - "

"I'm not your 'love'. How did you find out where I lived?"

He jumped at the chance to explain himself. "Your friend - uh, Mary Margaret. I got Ruby's number from Granny and Mary Margaret was with her. She grabbed the phone when she heard it was me. I swear, I just wanted your phone number so I could ask you why you had left so suddenly, but Mary Margaret had other ideas. She explained about Tink and then she told me what building you lived in, but not your apartment number, so I would have to prove myself in order to talk to you. Or rather, embarrass myself by knocking on every door asking if Emma Swan lived here. I heard New York City was bad, but I guess in Boston people don't know their neighbors either. Thankfully, I heard your voice down the hall when you opened up for the delivery boy. My nerves got the best of me though and I spent the past several minutes pacing outside your door, but when I saw the boy come back - well, I seized the opportunity."

Emma groaned. "I'm going to have to have another talk with Mary Margaret about what she sees in romantic comedies not being applicable in real life…"

He shrugged, giving her a shy, hopeful grin. "I think the lass thought it'd be romantic."

She snorted, like that one look didn't make her weak in the knees and all her doubts begin to feel very far away.

"I apologized to Tink - "

"You didn't," Emma cut off.

"I did."

"And how did that go?" she questioned, raising her eyebrow.

Killian winced. "Not very well, at first. Once she remembered who I was, she called me a narcissistic ass for thinking she'd still be hung up on me."

"Understandable."

"Yes, I see that now. But I felt bad that my...destructive choices may have hurt people. I just wanted to apologize to those I could."

Emma didn't have a sarcastic retort to that. "Why are you here, Killian?"

He took a step forward into her apartment. Deja vu struck again. "Because I don't think Tink has anything to do with this. Not really. I think you're running because you see a future here. A happy one."

"What, with you? I've known you all of five minutes!" She tried to sound exasperated, but it didn't ring true. What he said hit too close to home.

"Aye, that may be, but that's all I needed to know there was something between us. And deep down Swan, you know it too."

Emma became increasingly aware that they were having this conversation with the door wide open, for all her neighbors to hear. They'd get to know her real quick this way. She sighed and moved around him to shut the door. When she was back in front of him again, looking into his pleading blue eyes, she knew he'd see right through her if she lied.

"You're right. It's not that I care that you slept with Tink. It just made me realize I'd be upset...if that happened with us...and that frightened me. That I could feel something for you already. That I already had expectations, because that meant I could be disappointed. And I have been disappointed. Over and over again. I'm starting to wonder if it's me. If I just chose the wrong guys. So seeing Mary Margaret's text, it felt like a sign, you know?"

Killian dipped his head for a moment, almost as if in defeat.

"I don't intend to let you down, Emma," he said finally. His voice was low and firm, making it sound like a vow. When his eyes met hers, they held the same steely resolve.

And damnit, she believed him.

They sat on the floor of her living room, passing a bottle of wine between them and sharing the crab rangoons sitting out on her coffee table. He told her the parts of his story that he had left out. About Liam saying he'd close up Leroy's so Killian could walk home a girl he'd been talking to all night. About how after he dropped her off, Killian realized he forgot his keys to their apartment, so he went back to the bar because he knew Liam would just be finishing up. About how it must have just happened, and how Killian found him, crumpled on the floor, the register wide open. About how his life became police stations and lawyers and courtrooms until the man who murdered his brother was found guilty and then there was just nothing. Such a gaping, empty hole of nothingness that he turned to drinking and sleeping with random women, anything to fill in the void. About how worried Robin was, so he suggested opening the bar like his brother had wanted, and while it made Killian wake up each morning, shower and eat, and to all the world look like a functioning human being, it turned out to be the perfect place to carry on with what he had been doing before. That is until Milah came and demanded a job. She was an artist and was staying in Boston for a few months to save enough money for her next adventure, Morocco. Their relationship was passionate and revealing. They loved each other, but just not enough for Milah to stay or Killian to follow her anywhere. They parted as friends, with her warning Killian of continuing down the path he had been on before they met. She knew he had an uncommonly good heart, with a deep capacity for love, and every time he turned to alcohol or fell into bed with someone he doesn't care about would eat away at him till there was nothing left. Find someone who makes you feel like I feel about Morocco, she had told him. Her words stayed with him, but he didn't realize their truth until he resumed his old habits, stumbling into bed with Tink. It was purely physical, pale in comparison to the love him and Milah had, and only left him feeling worse. Unable to ignore her advice any longer, Killian threw himself into work and, to Robin's great delight, a book club with Belle. And that was his life, until she walked into his bar.

"You know, that first night, I thought you had a boyfriend the way you were smiling at your phone. Little did I know then that a bloody boyfriend would've been much easier to get past than your walls," he muttered before looking over at her and raising an eyebrow mischievously, testing the bounds of his teasing.

Emma punched him in the arm, hard, but couldn't help laughing. It was true.

They both lay on the floor now, their feet propped up on the couch after agreeing they needed a breather before going back for seconds of lo mein. She knew it was her turn, so she nudged Killian to give her the bottle of wine propped up in his hand, and sat up to take a long drink. Laying back down, Emma grasped the bottle tightly as her eyes stared straight up at the ceiling while she told him. She told him about being shuffled from foster home to foster home until she decided to take her fate into her own hands and run away, stealing to survive. About meeting Neal and falling for him the only way a seventeen year old orphan runaway could, blindly and desperately. About Neal letting her take the fall for him and landing her in jail. About finding out she was pregnant. (She had held her breath after that, the silence stretching on until she turned her head to look at him. He simply gazed at her with a new depth of adoration.) About meeting Mary Margaret, David, and Ruby and how she couldn't of raised Henry and become a cop without them. About Graham, her partner, the first person she had opened her heart up to in years, dying in her arms before they could even truly begin. About accepting Neal back into her life for Henry's sake. About Walsh, sweet and quiet Walsh, who she had thought would be the safe choice, not being at all who she thought he was. About one lonely night when Henry was at Neal's, picking up some bodice ripping romance novel along with a pint of ice cream and finally finding a way to escape her past for a little.

They continued to talk through seconds of lo mein and another bottle of wine, passing stories between them like the fortune cookies they eventually cracked open, despite multiple grumblings of "I'm so stuffed" and "I couldn't possibly". Emma figured she'd want him to leave, uncomfortable with how much she had revealed, but instead she felt raw and needy, now intimately connected to him. She finally understood what Mr. Rochester meant when he said it was as if some string attached Jane and him together. She could practically reach out and tug on that string now.

As they uncorked the third bottle and Killian could no longer utter a sentence that didn't contain the words "bloody hell" or "my love", she knew he wasn't going home tonight and found that suited her just fine.

Emma woke up at dawn. For a brief moment she panicked, not used to feeling a heavy arm draped over her side. It's just Killian, she reminded herself and that fear was replaced by a warm happiness she hadn't known in some time. She thought about last night as she snuggled back closer into him and entwined their fingers, bringing his hand up to her chest and giving it a squeeze. Visions of making out like teenagers on her couch flashed before her eyes. She vaguely remembered them giggling as they partly undressed in her bedroom and her sternly telling him there would be no pillaging and plundering tonight. She might've even wagged her finger at him. Clear in her mind though was the moment he slipped into bed beside her, curling his body around her and lazily murmuring in her ear, "it's about bloody time". Emma had run away from him twice now and still he'd gone after her. She had known in her gut he was a good man and she had let Mary Margaret's text be an excuse to save herself before she started falling for him. Because while he may not be Neal or Walsh, but he could be Graham, who she had just started to have feelings for only to have him be taken away too soon.

"You're thinking far too much for so early in the morning, love." His voice was low and rough with sleep and oh, the things it did to her.

Emma groaned and buried her head into the pillow, wiggling against him. She couldn't live her life that way, thinking if they weren't going to leave her, the only alternative would be that she'd lose them.

He chuckled against her shoulder before placing a kiss there, then moved up to place another on her neck. Her body reacted without her consent, back arching into him. He stilled behind her and Emma stopped breathing as she waited for his next move. When he finally reached her ear, taking the lobe between his teeth while his scruff tickled her neck, she let out a whimper she couldn't even bother to be embarrassed by. Killian's arm tightened his hold around her waist, pressing her closer to him, and she felt him hard against her bottom. Emma looked back at him, his hair messy, pupils blown wide, cheeks as flushed as hers felt.

"Do you want to…?" She trailed off, nerves creeping back in.

"What - really? Are you sure?" He propped himself up on his elbow, completely awake now.

Emma smirked at seeing him so flustered, and kissed him before nodding. "In the first drawer - "

But she didn't have to finish, as Killian was already rolling over and leaning off the bed to find the box of condoms in the side table. As he tugged off his t-shirt and pulled down his boxers to put on the condom, she slipped out of her top. Emma was about to unclasp her bra, when his hand stopped her.

"Please, let me."

Killian's eyes were soft again, a deep, unnamed emotion pouring out of them. She nodded and laid down on her side facing away to give him easier access to the clasp. Emma felt his hands tremble as he undid the hooks and she bit her lip, another wave of happiness washing over her. His hands moved lower and slowly slid down her underwear till she could toe them off.

"Like this?" Killian whispered against her ear from behind her, hand gripping her hip.

"Yes - please." She couldn't say out loud that she just wanted him to hold her again like he had all night.

He groaned and buried his face in her neck as he filled her slowly. Emma pushed back against him, crying out when his hand reached her breast, thumbing the hardened peak. It was going to be over much too quickly, the feel and the sound of her already had Killian barely holding on.

"Emma, I can't - fuck."

He bit her shoulder and brought his hand down to where she needed him most. Thankfully, she was just as close, and moments later both their bodies shuddered and stilled. She turned around to face him and the wrecked look he gave her made her stomach swoop out from under her.

"You might want to…" She waved her hand vaguely in the direction of what she was alluding to.

Killian blinked dopely at her, then realizing what she meant, blushed.

"Right," he scooted up to kiss the top of her head, "back in a moment, Swan."

Emma admired his toned backside as he walked to the bathroom and sighed. She had it so bad and she no longer minded.

Epilogue

Several months later as they finished unloading the last of his boxes into her apartment, she turned to find him down on one knee.

"Marry me."

"What - "

"I don't even have a ring, I know that's bad form. I'm sorry if it's too soon, I thought I could hold off, but I just - I was looking at you, and I couldn't bloody wait a moment longer. I know you and Henry are all I could ever want in this world."

Silent tears were falling down Emma's face, his words leaving her without any.

"Emma?"

She nodded, her face crumpling into a full blown sob as she came down to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Killian pulled away to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"You alright there, love?" He raised his eyebrow, both concerned and amused.

Emma nodded again, but he could read her easily. Killian cocked his head to the side, his eyes sparkling with tears now too. "Don't you know, Emma?" He bumped her nose with his. "It's you. You're my happy ending."

She brought her forehead against his, both of them breathing in and out, giving each other the strength they needed until they couldn't help smiling at each other.

"May I kiss you now, Swan?"

Emma let out a shaky laugh. "Soon to be Swan-Jones. But yes, you may."

They fell to the floor with the force of his kiss and didn't bother to move until they were sweaty and sated.

A year to the day of their first kiss they were married. Milah sent a Moroccan wedding blanket as a present, which Emma was now asleep underneath, hand protectively over her stomach. In the note that had come with it, she wrote, "I'm so glad we both found what we were looking for."

So was Killian.