A/N: So here's the end of the story. So sorry for going without an update for so long. I hope some of you stuck around. My life got so busy I could barely keep up and I finally got a break tonight long enough that I wasn't completely exhausted in that I could write this. Also, that episode tonight, oh wow. It broke my emotions into a million little pieces. So many feels... Anyways, I hope you all like this ending. I hope it's what you were all wanting! I'm probably not going to be around much until mid December when classes finish for the semester. But I'll see what I can do. Let me know what you think! Reviews make me so happy. I could use them since I'm feeling so absolutely drained, both mentally and physically. Thanks for all the support! Cheers!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators, Adam and Eddie.

"Looking for these?"

Balancing a box with three cinnamon rolls tucked inside on a shining metal hook was Jones. Killian Jones. The man she left in Seaport nearly a month prior and then realized she was in love with. The man she never thought she'd see again, nor was she sure she had wanted to. Blue eyes scanned her face as his teeth worried at his bottom lip. Emma's mind whirled. It didn't make sense. How was Jones in Berkley? How dare Jones come to Berkley?

Emma stepped back, intent on running, the grip Jones had on her arm tugging him along too. She shook her arm fiercely as her free hand went to her sword, drawing it within the restricted space between their bodies. Jones had to let go to avoid ending up impaled by the point giving Emma the chance to stumble a few more feet backwards.

"Emma, please," Jones practically begged, shifting the box to his hand to get a better grip on it. "I just want to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk to you." The words were thrown from her lips like bombs, each syllable exploding and causing Jones to flinch.

"Can I explain why I'm here?" Where Emma's voice was pure anger, Jones's was desperation. Emma clamped down on her cheek hard to keep her anger level up. The moment she weakened in her stance would be the moment things would spiral.

Emma stepped back again, raising her sword even more. "You've come to tell me how you killed Neal? Even I didn't think you were that cruel."

"Neal isn't dead."

The cutlass clattered to the street in front of Emma, coming to rest against the toe of Jones's boot. That certainly hadn't been the answer she'd expected. Jones left the sword on the ground, most likely scared that Emma would impale him if he gave it back.

"What?" The word slipped out like a breath, hanging in the crisp air around them.

Jones breathed in heavily, the words crushing down his shoulders into steep slopes. She couldn't read the emotion darkening his eyes and it was too hard to look into them for long enough to really consider what was roiling in the blue depths. "Neal isn't dead."

"I heard you the first time," Emma snapped unintentionally. She took a deep breath to calm her whirling thoughts. Neal wasn't dead? But Killian wasn't dead either? Shouldn't their fight have ended up with at least one casualty?

"No. Can I explain the situation to you?" Emma glanced around them. Yes, she was mad at Jones. She was downright furious. But she still felt that tug in her heart not to leave him without an explanation. Jones hadn't killed Neal. Because Emma had wanted him not to? Had Jones given up on his revenge for her? Or had Jones just not succeeded?

Emma sighed and nodded to Jones before picking up her cutlass. Without waiting for Jones she marched towards the bench just out of the market, back as straight as a ramrod. Emma sat on the edge of the bench, running her fingers over her blade. Cautiously, Jones sat down beside her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jones look towards her, lips downturned. She didn't respond. Jones heaved a sigh and turned back to look forward.

"Neal isn't dead because I couldn't kill him."

"Couldn't? Or wouldn't?" Emma asked quietly because that answer meant everything. Could he not kill Neal because it was just too hard? Or would he not kill Neal because of Emma. Because she was more important to him? Could she even expect that? Want that?

"Couldn't. But it was because every time I tried I saw your face. Neal has cost me everyone I've ever held dear. I couldn't lose you too."

Emma took a few moments to process that. She'd never imagined Jones would come back to see her. She'd never imagined she was special enough to stop Jones's revenge quest, not after she'd seen how important it had been to him. The notion shook her. She wasn't quite sure whether to forgive Jones for coming back or yell at him for leaving her in the first place. She wasn't quite sure if she'd actually be able to do either.

"What happened?"

"Are you able to hear the whole story?"

Now Emma did glance over at Jones. Jones flickered his eyes over her face. His hand moved towards her face before faltering and letting his fingers drop once again to his leather pants. Emma's heart thudded in her chest. Jones had offered to explain to Emma, to possibly get himself forgiven only if she was able to handle it. Jones would go without if Emma wasn't capable. That, more than the earlier confession made her want to reach out and embrace him, welcome the pirate back into her life. Instead she nodded. Now she was burning with desire to know.

Jones took a deep breath to steady himself before giving Emma all he could to make up for past events. "I found Neal. It wasn't hard, bloody idiot lording himself over the port," Jones snarled scornfully, glancing back at Emma to make sure she was still with him. She was. "I had a plan to kill Neal. It was going to work. I was positive of it. I was angry and heartbroken. I'd lost you. I got caught in this need to kill Neal and this need to go back and find you. But I'd blown it with you and I'd vowed to Liam and Milah that I'd avenge them. So I went about carrying out my plan. I found Neal a few days after you left port and I got him alone. I would have been so easy. But when I saw him, all I could see, all I could feel, all I could think about was you." Jones's hand began to shake. Emma knew the feeling. She felt like a loose end of canvas sail in a hurricane. Emma knew there was only one way to stop the shaking. She reached out and grasped Jones's hand. Jones started against her before giving her hand a tight squeeze. The trembling immediately slowed. Oh, Emma. How could you ever think Jones was nothing to you?

"You were saying?" Emma asked quietly, the malice of earlier gone from her tone, replaced by a tentative curiosity, a timid hope.

Jones chuckled breathlessly. "As I was saying, I saw Neal and not only was I aware of what the man did to my brother and first love. I was remembered what Neal did to my love. My beautiful, stubborn, pirate princess love. My true love." Jones loved her. And admitted it aloud. Emma's heart thumped rapidly as memories of the conversation with Mary Margaret welled up in her mind. Emma could barely process the idea of reciprocated feelings before Jones kept going, forcing her to put the thoughts on hold to keep up. "Neal might not have killed you, but he did hurt you. Did things to you that I don't know how to heal. And in killing Neal, well, I would hurt you even more. So I decided not to." Jones made it sound so simple, as if he were playing something off.

"And yet you've been gone for nearly a month," Emma put in, raising an eyebrow.

Jones snorted a laugh, sounding actually happy for the first time that morning. "Always the perceptive one, Swan. Well, I couldn't just leave Neal free. Not knowing how much the chance of running into him haunted you." Emma glanced towards Jones, turning her body when she saw no lie, no backtracking in his face.

"What happened?" Emma asked cautiously.

"I sent him to jail for life." Emma's heart stopped then lurched forwards again. Neal locked away for good?

"How?" Emma's voice was barely above a whisper but Jones heard.

"I have some friends who occupy a specific job Neal has been known to target and exploit. She helped me out, got into Neal's circle very quickly. Neal, just as expected attempted to do to her what he did to you, only this time after telling a sheriff I'd contacted earlier and disguised. That confession along with the sheriff knowing you're story, which, sorry love I had to tell him, got Neal arrested for human trafficking." Jones turned fully to her. "I just couldn't let him run around without paying for all he'd done. Not after everything. Not after I promised my brother and Milah and well, you as well even though I didn't vocally promise you. I hope you aren't upset."

Emma lunged forward, catching Jones's lips against hers. Jones let out a huff of a surprised breath that quickly turned into a laugh before returning the kiss, hand slipping up into Emma's hair, fingers scratching carefully at the scalp under the band of her hat. Emma sunk against Jones's warm chest when his tongue swept along her bottom lip, tightening her own arms around the back of his neck to hold herself up.

"You know I love you right, Emma?" Jones asked when he broke for air.

"I know," Emma answered, pressing her lips against Jones's. "And I love you."

Jones pulled back in shock. "Truly?"

"Truly," Emma answered. "It took a rather uncomfortable conversation with Mary Margaret to realize it but it's true."

"And you aren't upset about Neal going to jail?" Jones asked in wonder, still seemingly stuck on the idea of Emma admitting her feelings, especially one's so strong.

Emma grinned. "I think that's a perfect place for him."

"Then I think I know where the perfect place for us is."

"Oh yeah? And where's that?"

"On The Swan, eating cinnamon rolls with Bae and planning our next adventure."

Emma kissed Jones again quickly. "Now it seems that you're the perceptive one with that answer."

"I'm actually quite perceptive most of the time, love," Jones said, pulling her up off the bench. Emma quickly stowed her cutlass as Jones balanced the box of pastries between his hook and hip. She laced her fingers in between the ones he offered her with a small smile, the whole morning still feeling terribly surreal to her. But it was a surreal she could get used to.

"Well then, Mr. Perceptive, you get to explain to the king of all things perceptive why his cinnamon roll is cold."

"That may be harder than sending Neal to jail."

"Get used to it," Emma answered with a grin.

Jones answered with a squeeze of his hand. "Aye, I plan to."