Author's note: Another prompt from my December AU project. This is roughly two years after the story ends. Killian wants to propose to Emma. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Ha!

Two Years later - The Proposal

"Is he in?" Emma asked on her way past the assistant's desk. She didn't even wait for a response before barging into her boss's office. It was one of the perks of living with the boss's brother.

Liam looked up from his computer, mentally bracing himself for the hurricane that was his brother's love. "Hello, Emma."

"Cut the crap, Jones. Why'd you take Killian off the Hood story?!"

Liam carefully kept his face neutral. "I didn't. Gold asked for our best photographer and you know as well as I do that Killian's the best."

Emma huffed. Yeah, she knew that. Once she'd allowed herself to get to know him, Killian's talent was obvious. "I know that. That's why we're partners. Doesn't give Gold the right to steal him away from my story!"

"I know you don't like to be reminded of this, Emma, but Gold is still technically Killian's head of department. He could have his pick of jobs but he stays here. For you."

Emma bit her lip. In the last two years, her life had been transformed. She was still the tenacious investigative reporter, uncovering the truth from under many a dirty rock. She had one Pulitzer under her belt. She worked for one of the most famous newspapers in the world. But she'd made room in her life for...life. Love. She came home every night, not to day old Chinese and her laptop, but to a man who loved her and thought she hung the moon. She learned how to work and play, which she had to admit made her a better reporter. It helped that she and Killian collaborated on several stories since the Mills case.

They brought the best out in each other.

"The gala's one night," Liam reminded her. "Surely you two aren't that attached at the hip."

Emma glared at him, not amused by his insinuation. "Fine. But I think we should revisit this. Soon. I think we can both agree that Killian's underappreciated by that stick in the mud." She spun on her heel and left; she'd simply use the extra time to prepare for her next interview.

"Agreed," Liam said quietly as she left. He had every intention of improving Killian's position at the paper, but at the moment he was following his brother's instructions. Once he was certain Emma was gone, Liam picked up his phone.

"Bit busy, Liam," Killian said, sounding annoyed.

"I hope you've got everything under control because Emma's on the warpath."

"Does she suspect?"

"Not as far as I can tell. You're better at reading her though."

"That's because you're still a little afraid of her, brother," Killian laughed.

"I bloody well am not!"

"It's okay, Liam. Not everyone can be as refined as Elsa."

"Don't let the facade fool you; Elsa's every bit as single minded as Emma." That was another change the past year had wrought; Liam's broken heart had been mended a lovely lass named Elsa, a minor royal from Sweden.

"Good thing for us they get along so well."

"Indeed. Do you have things under control?"

"Another hour and everything will be perfect. I hope."

"You've been preparing this for a long time, little brother. She'd be the biggest fool in the world to get frightened now."

"We've only discussed it once," Killian lamented.

"Did she give you any indication that she hated the idea?"

"Well, no, but Emma prefers things at her pace."

"It's not like you'd be getting married today. Taking the initiative is not a bad thing, Killian."

"Thanks, Liam."

"Any time. Good luck."

Killian hung up and went to finish the rest of his preparations. He wanted the evening to go off without a hitch.

Emma read through the report for the fifth time, making sure she understood its contents thoroughly. She was supposed to be interviewing the police chief in two days for her story; she relished any chance to wipe the smarmy grin off the man's flabby face. How many times would she have to humiliate him before he took her seriously? Or before he got fired?

Her phone buzzed; it was a text from Killian. Busy, love?

Going over some things for the interview. Having fun? She typed back.

Not as such. Care to spice up my evening?

Emma rolled her eyes. I'm not sexting you while you're working.

It took longer than she expected to get a reply. An interesting idea. However, I was wondering if you'd like to join me.

Her brow furrowed. Join him? He knew how much she hated that fake socializing crap. Emma preferred their small circle of family and friends to attending any swanky party. She made exceptions when they were hosted by Liam because he was a) her boss and b) her lover's beloved brother. She enjoyed watching them repair their relationship and become close once again. Everyone needed family and Killian was hers. What do you need me for?

Love, I always need you.

She smiled. What did I just say about the sexting?

Someone's mind is in the gutter, Swan.

Emma's smiled widened; with Killian it was hard for her mind to not be in the gutter. He was very handsome, very sexy and sex had never been one of their problems. Fine. One date coming up. Should I stop home to change?

Perhaps the red one?

Emma shivered; he loved her in her deep red gown. It was the one she'd been wearing the first time they had sex. In a broom closet. It had been so intense and erotic; she couldn't get him out of her head. She'd never really lost him since. Give me one hour.

She put her files away and locked them and her laptop in a drawer of her desk. Since the Mills case, she had her office swept for bugs on a regular basis and the building's security had been improved. Still she was never too careful. Office locked behind her, she headed downstairs, calling a cab. When she got to their apartment, she asked the cabbie to wait, despite the extra cost. It wouldn't take her long to change and briefly rearrange her hair. She tried to replicate her look from that fateful night, wondering if this evening could have a similar end.

She secretly hoped it would.

The cabbie drove her to Midtown; the gala was being held in a wing of the New York Public Library. Why Gold was wasting Killian's skills on taking pictures of simpering celebutants was beyond her comprehension. The Library was closed at this time of night, but they were always hosting some fundraiser or other. The guard let her through after giving her name. She followed the signs, heading to a wing of the Library she'd never seen.

Imagine her surprise that there was no one there.

She'd come expecting actors, actresses, reality stars, business people. No Trump, thank God. But there was no one. She entered the room, taken aback. There was a small table to her left; she picked up the envelope labeled Emma. She ripped it open and found a note in Killian's elegant hand.

Swan,

I hope you can forgive my little subterfuge; I assure you it's in the name of a worthy cause. Every moment with you has been an adventure, the greatest of my life. I hope you come to see that as you walk through this space. I'll be waiting at the end.

Ever yours,

Killian

Emma felt her hand shaking a little; this was a Romantic Gesture, capital R, capital G. Their relationship was relatively low key; she preferred it that way. The grandest gesture had been her showing up at his apartment to apologize for being wrong and dumping him. Killian knew her track record with romance; it was his steadiness and heart that she loved most about him. He'd given her the precious gift of time, time to sort out her own heart, to realize how empty her life would be without him. But this? This was bigger. She could sense it.

Part of her was excited, part of her was still scared witless.

Still, she was Emma Swan, and Emma Swan did not back down from a challenge. She held the note close as she moved to her right. There was a trail of buttercup petals on the floor; her favorite. They were laid out carefully; clearly, she was meant to follow them. She did, heading through another door. The room she entered was large and there were a series of photographs on the walls, photographs Killian had taken.

The first was an enlarged version of one she found in his old apartment; it had been the first time she really noticed his work. They'd been sleeping together for weeks, but that was the first time she admitted to herself that she really liked him, even as she couched it as professional curiosity. She smiled fondly at the memory, moving to the next picture.

It was from that same date—their first in a public place—her old haunt, the Enchanted. Looking at it more closely, she realized it couldn't have been from that night. They'd been very much wrapped up in each other. However, it was important enough to Killian that he went back to photograph it. She wondered what else he'd captured.

The pictures went on; some she recognized right away. The fountain in Central Park, a goofy one of them at a work Christmas party. There was an artfully arranged array of pictures from the party Liam threw for her Pulitzer, including some from the montage Killian put together for her. That had meant a lot to her; his love for her shone through the photos. She sniffed, her fingertip lightly caressing his scruffy cheek in the picture. She wished he was there with her, just so she could hold his hand. He grounded her while opening her life to love and happiness.

Emma moved on, following the flowers, the pictures taking on a more intimate cast. Nothing too risque but they were almost all pictures she'd remained unaware of, even though she'd given him tacit permission. Photography was his passion, just as journalism was hers. There were some of her with her hair in a messy bun, a pencil in her teeth as she typed away at her computer. A few of her blissfully asleep in her favorite chair, soaking in the afternoon sun like a lazy cat. More of them together at a Yankees game. Most were in color, but there were a few in black and white; those were her favorites.

She lingered in front of a picture of she and Killian in their kitchen, covered in flour, but laughing into the camera. It was insanely domestic; they were so happy. She remembered that day vividly; he decided to bake a pumpkin pie from scratch, knowing how much Emma loved them. When she tried to help, it quickly became a disaster, but neither of them cared. It was enough that they were there together.

This was what Emma wanted for the rest of her life.

Where are you, Killian? She thought. She looked at the note again; it said he was waiting for her. Her heart sped up, hoping for the first time that she was reading the signs correctly.

Emma almost breezed past the last few photos, following the trail of petals. They turned a corner, moving into yet another room. This one was softly lit, littered in candles, and Killian standing in the center looking nervous but hopeful.

"Hello, love."

"Hey."

"Did you like your surprise?"

She smiled, flashing the note. "Clever, Jones. Liam was in on this, I assume?"

Killian scratched behind his ear. "Aye, he lent a hand or two."

"Remind me to apologize later for falsely accusing him."

"I'm sure he's used to it by now, Swan."

"Funny, Jones."

All through their banter Emma got closer, until she was directly in his space. He grinned at her, one hand still in his pocket. "You look amazing, Emma."

She looked him over; he was in a nice suit, clean lines, freshly pressed. "This feels a little familiar, don't you think?"

He nodded. "That was the point. All this time and you still take my breath away."

She blushed. Her Killian was charming, but sincere. Always sincere. "I loved the photos," she said quietly. "Thank you."

"That's only half of your surprise." Emma inhaled sharply as he knelt in front of her, down on one knee, a small velvet box now in his hand. Which was shaking. Mentally she cursed any time she'd been cross or short with him; she hated that he was nervous about this. "Emma Swan, would you do me the great honor of marrying me?"

Emma made sure to hold his gaze; she was trembling, not from nerves but from excitement. In that moment, there was nothing she wanted more and she needed him to know she was all in. Slowly, she nodded. "Yes."

Killian let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, plucking the ring from the box and sliding onto her shaking finger. "Sure about this, Swan?"

She pulled him up by the hands, then dragged his lips to hers. "Very sure. You're stuck with me now, Jones."

"Precisely where I want to be." His arms came around her, crushing her to his chest. Emma remembered that first kiss, so long ago. Filled with heat and passion, the first time she'd chosen to take a leap. This felt similar but there was weight to it, knowledge rather than discovery. Yet for all they knew about one another, there was always more to learn. And Emma was no longer afraid of forever.

Killian's hands skimmed up her back; the dress left much of her creamy skin bare. She was warm and soft, smooth under his hands. Emma mewled a little as he stroked her skin, sliding deftly under the fabric of her dress. "Always loved this dress," he murmured over her jaw. Emma tilted her head, giving him access to her throat. Killian didn't disappoint, his lips sliding wetly over her pulse. "Perfect."

Emma moaned, a thrum of desire rolling down her spine. They were still technically in the library but the euphoria of the moment and his hands on her were intoxicating. She was such a sucker for his large rough hands on her body. She slipped her leg between his, clinging to his lapel for dear life. "Killian..."

"Yes?"

"This is...Jesus...the library."

"So?" His thumb brushed the side of her breast; she moaned. "Perhaps I'd like to remind you how we started, lass."

Oh god, the broom closet. He'd been the hesitant one and she'd teased him until he took her roughly against a metal rack of shelves. One of the best moments of her life, not that she could admit it then. "Don't think?" she whispered.

"Exactly." He captured her lips in a searing kiss, hand lightly patting her bum. "Let's find somewhere a little more private." He held her hand in his and led her through a door and down a hall; this part of the library was away from the public, offices and such it seemed. How Killian knew where to go was a mystery to her. But she was high on love and sharing an adventure with the man she loved. When Killian found a room that suited him, he ushered her inside.

It looked like a disused office. There was a desk and a chair against one wall and a metal filing cabinet on another. Killian pressed her against the door and fused his mouth to hers, swallowing her gasp of surprise. She slid her hands under his suit jacket, pulling hard on his dress shirt, freeing it from his pants. Finally, she could touch bare skin, hands gliding over his taut stomach.

"You always were a vixen," he muttered, biting where neck met shoulder.

Emma bit at his earlobe. "I was trying to prove a point."

"I remember." He undid the tie behind her neck, letting the fabric fall to her waist. "Still, I think my point was made in the end."

"And what was that?" Emma mumbled, shivering as he teased her hard nipples.

"That you wanted more than just a quick shag in a broom closet."

Her head fell heavily against the wooden door. "What? Oh. Right." She wet her lips and found his eyes. "There was this guy. He was really persistent."

"Just a guy?" he asked, tracing her areola with his tongue. "Should I get my sword?"

"You don't...fuck, have a sword."

He chuckled. "No, but it's a fun thought." He kissed his way back up to her lips. "I knew the moment you kissed me, Swan. I wanted you, this, us." He found her hand, kissing her left hand just above her new ring. "You've made me so very happy."

"Are you gonna talk or fuck me?" she demanded, her question holding no real sting. She just needed him; they could save the slow tender lovemaking for their bed.

"So demanding, Swan. Fuck yes." He thrust his hips forward, letting her know how her partial nudity affected him. Emma impatiently pushed his suit jacket off and started on the buttons of his shirt. Killian maneuvered them to the empty chair, then trapped Emma against the desk. She worked frantically on his belt and fly, her body aching for him. "Shall I bend you over this desk?" he asked, ducking to suck on her nipple. "Or let you ride me in the chair?"

"Don't care," Emma replied, finally getting his zipper down. She reached into his pants and took him into her hand, gripping him firmly. Killian growled, hips rutting into her hand. "Hmm, like that, Jones?"

"Minx. You know I do." He covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply. He pushed her skirt up, lifting her onto the desk. She moaned before reaching for him again.

"God, just get inside me," she panted, splaying her thighs. "Please."

"So the Ice Queen can be made to beg," he chuckled darkly, recalling her demeanor when they first did this. "Lay back."

Emma did, licking her lips as Killian eased her legs up. He anchored her stiletto clad feet on the edge of the desk, spreading her knees wide. Her pale skin stood out against the deep red of her dress; she was as beautiful as he had ever seen her. He shrugged off his shirt, giving her a nice view of his chest; she squirmed, getting impatient again. He rubbed his cock along her slit, coating him in her slickness. "So wet, fuck."

Emma reached down and grabbed his wrist, guiding him to her aching hole. She groaned as he pushed forward; she loved the way they fit together. He stretched her deliciously, pushing all the way in. Her back arched. "Oh god, yes."

Killian took her with slow shallow thrusts, just watching his cock disappear inside her lithe body. They really should be quick; anyone could happen by. But that was part of the thrill. He knew Emma shared it; he could see it in her eyes. He skimmed his hands up over her stomach, pausing to fondle her slightly bouncing breasts. Emma keened, her back arching into his touch. She pouted when he moved on, urging her arms up over her head. He was bent low over her, still slowly thrusting, staring into the green eyes he loved so much. Emma raised her head, seeking his lips. They kissed languidly, Emma hitching her legs up over his hips. Killian groaned deeply as the heels of her bloody shoes dug into him, right at the base of his spine.

"Fuck, Swan," he muttered, hips stuttering.

"That's the point," she replied, squeezing her inner muscles around his thickness. "And I know you can do better, Jones."

He snarled, letting go of one of her hands and reaching for her thigh. He found her ankle and maneuvered her leg over his shoulder, pressing it back to her chest. Emma cried out, the angle hitting her perfectly. "Better now?"

"Yes!" She clawed at his back with her free hand, her body coiling tighter with every roll of his hips. "Yes!" They were being far too loud, but Emma was too far gone to care. All that mattered was Killian and the way he was fucking her.

"That's it, love," he panted, nibbling on her earlobe. "Scream for me, let me hear you."

Emma was helpless against the gravely possessive tone; god, she loved the way he made her feel. "Close," she bit out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Fuck."

He snaked a hand between them and unerringly found her clit. He rubbed her just the way she liked, hard precise circles; she screamed her climax, trembling hard beneath him. She was still fluttering around him when he followed, stars popping behind his eyes. He rode her until he was spent, head falling to her shoulder. Emma panted hard, heart thudding against her ribs. Killian was heavy but she made no effort to move him, couldn't have even if she wanted to. She idly stroked his slick back, lips brushing his temple.

At length, he did move, collapsing into the nearby chair. He only paused long enough to pull his pants up. Emma caught her breath, then rummaged around for a tissue or something to clean herself up. She found an old box in one of the drawers; she thought it best not to examine it too closely. Once she was clean, she fixed her dress, retying the straps.

"Hmm, come 'ere, lass."

Emma smiled at him and settled in his lap. She cupped his cheek and kissed him, purring in contentment. This was what she wouldn't allow herself in times past. A chance to bask in the afterglow. They didn't talk; they simply held each other, Killian caressing the ring on her finger. He'd dreamt of this moment so often in the two years they'd been together; he'd sometimes despair of it ever happening. But she agreed to be his wife.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Emma asked, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"You said yes."

She frowned at him. "Was I supposed to say no?"

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but there were days I doubted this could happen."

She leaned her head on his. "I know. I warned you it wouldn't be easy."

"So you did."

"But I'm glad you stayed. That we stuck it out." She cupped his cheek and brought his lips to hers. "I love you, Killian. And I can't wait to be married to you."

"Truly?"

"Yeah. Maybe that brother of yours will give us adjoining offices," she teased.

"Always work with you, Swan."

"Not always. I frequently have thoughts that are very not-work like."

"Do tell."

She shrugged. "Maybe on the honeymoon."

"Think you can leave the city long enough for that?"

"Depends. Where are you taking me?"

"Anywhere you wish to go."

"Someplace warm." She kissed his nose. "Maybe some palm trees." She kissed a scruffy cheek. "Definitely a beach." Every item she mentioned was followed by a kiss until he got frustrated and found her lips. He kissed her deeply, leaving her breathless.

"Emma," he breathed, fingers tangling in her hair. "We should go home."

"Yeah." They made out for a few more minutes before mustering the energy to stand. They found Killian's shirt and jacket on the floor, slightly worse for wear. Emma stifled a laugh, taking stock of the room. She almost felt sorry for whoever occupied it next; there were subtle signs of what happened. But since it wasn't her problem, she let it go. When Killian was presentable, they strode hand in hand from the room, ready for the next step in their journey together.