A.N. So this takes place a couple of years after the Season 3 finale.

It was an unusually peaceful time for the savior. No wicked witches to defeat, no curses to be broken, or day to be saved. After the tumultuous few years she spent in Storybrooke, Emma Swan was definitely enjoying the peaceful respite.

And in that rare moment of quiet, she was currently flipping through an all-too-familiar book of fairytales. When Henry asked why she wanted it, she claimed it was because she was gearing up for the next villain that would inevitably wander into their world. But in reality, she just wanted to immerse herself in the Enchanted Forest once more.

After her excursion in Enchanted Forest That Was, the fairytales she was once so dismissive of suddenly became real. Not that she did not believe they were real before. Her sword-wielding father, curse- casting co-parent, and the fire-breathing dragon she defeated below the town library cemented their reality. But she had felt somewhat disconnected from it all… until she became part of the fairytale herself.

She grinned as she came across the picture of Killian and herself dancing at the ball. She vividly recalled how painful the corset was as well as her anxiety over possibly screwing up the most famous love story of all (not to mention her own existence). But she also remembered having the time of her life, wearing a beautiful dress, dancing with a handsome man at her very first royal ball.

Emma glanced up at said handsome man. Killian Jones was sitting on the other side of the couch she was currently lounging on. The captain was flipping through pictures on a camera, the love of his life's fuzzy-sock-clad feet resting on his lap. Despite his never ending (and rather adorable) confusion with technology, one thing Killian instantly took a liking to was photography. The idea of immortalizing a moment in time absolutely fascinated him. So he immediately procured a camera (otherwise known as stealing Emma's) and took it wherever he went.

She shook her head as she imagined if he had a camera that night at the ball. There definitely would have been more than one picture documenting the night, including pictures with the host, shots of the castle and ballroom, and possibly a family shot with her parents, even though they were not aware they were her parents. Emma momentarily wondered if in those pictures she would look like herself or the disguise Rumplestiltskin conjured up for them before a sudden exclamation from her boyfriend startled her.

"Oh bloody hell!"

At Emma's questioning look, Killian exaggeratedly adjusted his hook. "I forgot I had the thing again."

"Gold gave it back again, huh? What did you do this time?"

"I merely stated my surprise that such an old bloke was still breeding."

"Killian!" Emma admonished, shoving him slightly with her foot.

"Oh calm down, love. I've already paid for it," he responded, waving his hook. Gold had taken to randomly giving Killian his hand back and then replacing it with the hook again when Killian pissed him off. At first, the pirate was upset when his hand returned, claiming that he had been robbed of his namesake. But Emma knew it was a lot easier for him when he had both hands. (Emma flushed a little when she remembered that she liked it when he had both hands too, but for less than pure reasons.)

Rolling her eyes at the former-pirate's antics, she returned to the book. She flipped forward a bit and came to her parents' wedding. She lingered on the words describing the blissfulness of the scene before flipping back in the book to their first wedding with Lancelot and Ruth. Emma decided that she would prefer a wedding like her parent's first one. Small and intimate, but no less full of love (also far less evil queens announcing impending doom, but she'd happily skip the dying mother part.)

She was already flipped to Cinderella's wedding when she realized what she had just thought. When did Emma Swan, master of holding people at a distance and fierce protector of her heart, start dreaming about her wedding? But then… she looked up at Killian again (who was now smiling at a picture he was looking at)… and thought, why not?

She slammed the book shut and sat up.

"Let's get married."

At this, he put the camera down and answered with a graceful, "Bit early for rum, isn't it, love?"

"Killian Jones, I am being serious," she replied indignantly, with another shove to the man she loved.

"Well, I just assumed you weren't the marrying type. No offence, love, but I can hardly imagine that you would want to wear some frilly white contraption and publically declare your eternal love for me in front of the whole town."

Emma smiled. He knew her well.

"Oh come on. You know our wedding wouldn't be like that. It would be on the beach or something. Small," she said slowly easing herself closer to him, "quiet, private… intimate." She whispered the last words as she straddled his lap and kissed him gently.

"You'll be the death of me, woman. I know it."

"I mean, we already know we're each other's true love," Emma continued. She recalled the terrifying moment when her heart was frozen by the Snow Queen. She was almost completely frozen before Killian found her. His kiss of true love thawed her frozen heart and broke the curse that kept Storybrooke in an eternal winter.

"You already live here," she said pointing at his various belongings scattered about the room: his telescope on the side table, his leather jacket strewn across the back of a kitchen chair, and of course his camera resting on the coffee table.

"And Henry already thinks of you as his father," she finished, gesturing toward the tiny replica of the Jolly Roger Henry gave Killian as a Father's Day present the year before. Henry spent weeks with Marco and Pinnochio working on the thing.

"So Captain, are you going to make an honest woman of me?"

"First you rob me of a dashing rescue and now you rob me of a romantic proposal?" he said with far too much tenderness to be accusatory, as he gently brushed a strand of her hair away from her face.

"Looks like it," she responded.

"Oh well. I do like me a woman who takes charge," he said before pulling her in for a fiery kiss.

Emma smiled against her fiancé's lips, feeling such happiness she once thought was only possible in fairytales. But now she knew, better than anyone, that fairytales are real. Some just haven't been written down.

A.N. As you can see, I am officially aboard the Captain Swan ship.