The mood ring.

After a long and fun-filled day with Henry, Killian had thought of perhaps surprising Emma at the Sheriff's Precinct, maybe ask her if she was interested in a romantic night cap. As he entered, he saw the female silhouette of his girlfriend (he liked the feel and sound of that… Emma Swan; his girlfriend), hair tied up in a rather shabby pony tail, a crocheted white blouse, sitting with her back to him.

Three metallic taps made her turn.

"Hello there, love…" He smiled gently.

All he got was a weak grin and a sullen face.

His own smile fell. "You seem vexed…" he reached to his belt and produced his flask. "…like, you could use a drink."

She grinned softly and rolled her eyes as she reached for the flask. "That's putting it lightly…"

Killian observed her in silence as her eyes darted to a large, white box on the floor. He fell under the impression that she really needed to sift through its contents, but that it was the last thing she wanted to do.

"What's that?" He asked softly.

Emma sighed. "What's left of my childhood."

Now Killian knew he had been right; Her past was dodgy terrain, a realm not even her parents had dared tread on.

It was painful to her.

Perhaps he could pioneer that particular expedition; he loved her inside out, and this counted as such.

Softly, gently, he took a step towards her. "May I have the honor?" He murmured.

Emma eyed him, taking in his inquisitive yet deeply tactful stare. He held no bars, no walls, just his honest gaze… she knew how deeply he loved her, how much he had done…

She trusted him. Trusted and respected him like she had never done anyone before.

She sighed and reached down for the box, placing it on the desk. She opened it and produced a small cigar box. She handed it over but hesitated.

He raised his eyes up at her. "Are you ok?"

He'd not do anything, prod, question or poke, if she was unwilling. This had to come from her.

As she surrendered the box to his hand, she smiled with a huff. "I think so."

Killian placed the little box down on the desk and opened it. Immediately, an amused smile lit up his gorgeous face. This was Emma, his Emma, a side of her he had never seen or known, and it warmed is heart to sift through her belongings while she observed with a nostalgic but appeased grin.

He chuckled as he fidgeted with glasses far too large for anyone to wear, let alone Emma. A ribbon, a bell, a baby pin… and a ring with an odd colored stone on it.

"And this? What's this?" He grinned gently at her, one eyebrow raised, his eyes shining with the keen spirit of honest, childlike curiosity.

(It was that grin she had come to love, one that he kept almost exclusively for her, intimate, adoring… honest).

Emma chuckled. "You're wearing three of those, you should know what a ring is."

He rolled his eyes and giggled. "What I mean, Swan, is the stone. What is it?"

Emma sighed deep and took it from him, staring at it with a smile. "It's a mood ring." She looked at him. "It's like… a party trick, or something. The stone supposedly changes colors depending on your mood."

"How so?"

"Well, I believe that of you're happy, it goes yellow. If you're angry it's red, if you're scared it's green and if you're sad it's blue."

"Oh… " He nodded. "And you said there was no magic in this realm…"

She laughed softly. "It's a knick-knack for kids. I got this one from a cereal box."

"Does it really change? Or is it fake?"

"It does change, but I honestly don't believe it has the first thing to do with moods. I think it relates to the temperature."

"I see…" He smiled as he took it back from her, studying it. He turned to her again. "It is a pretty ring…"

"Yeah…" She replied softly.

"You… mind if I…?" He hinted at putting it on her.

She smirked and turned her face sideways, giving him a wry look. "Isn't it a little early for that?"

He laughed.

How she loved that cackle of his.

"Indeed it is, lass, that is why I am not gifting you with a big, expensive and priceless gem worthy of a bride to be… yet." He tilted his head sideways. "Because when that time comes… and it WILL, be sure that that's exactly what you will get." Emma swallowed and grinned as he continued. He knew his "I will" was more than just empty words: He had set out to win her heart ("And I WILL win it")… and it was now his for the taking. Damn pirate. "No, love, I merely wanted to see what this ring does. It's far too small for my fingers and I fear the hook is constantly cold."

She smiled and bit her lower lip.

Damn, he was sweet when he wanted to be. Damn, damn, damn.

She held out her finger and he slipped the ring on, curiously staring at the rock.

After a few seconds he gave up. "It does nothing."

"Told you." She touched it. "It's a toy, more than anything…"

Killian then turned back to the cigar box and found a picture of Neal and Emma, years before everything and anything. She wore the thick, ugly glasses that had amused him so much, and Neal… well, he was just Neal.

They both looked so happy.

A pang of sadness flashed through his eyes. Emma stared at him, not savvy on what was going on in that head of his, but she was pretty sure of what was going on in his heart. She felt his nostalgia hit her and she raised her eyes to his.

It wasn't till after he placed the photo back in the box that he saw Emma's finger, noticing the stone had changed.

It was blue.

He grinned… but said nothing.

His eyes darted to the bigger box, where Emma was fidgeting with an old, knitted baby blanket with her name embroidered on it in green and purple. He assumed it was her earliest swaddling cloth, one that had travelled with her as an infant from the Enchanted Forest during the first curse.

"Lovely fleece." He nodded.

She merely grinned.

The stone on her finger looked just as blue.

Emma's brow was suddenly pinched as she produced what Hook now recognized as a "visual record-making device": A Cam-corder; An old one, at that.

Emma walked past him and started plugging the wires of the gadget to the "magic box" (television) and he was awed at her tech know-how (She'll have to teach me all about these things, someday, if I'm to survive in this bloody realm…).

She joined him, standing a few feet away from the television, as she readied herself to view the contents of it.

"I haven't watched this since I recorded it." She sighed, leaning on the desk by his side. "But some things happened today that made me think about the past."

He saw the fear in her eyes, a fear he knew all to well: Fear of pain.

"Reflective today, are we?" He whispered. She grinned and looked down, feeling bare and vulnerable… and knowing she would rather have no other person by her side. He reached out and took her hand in his. "Hey… show me." She looked up into his eyes. "I'd love to know more about your beginnings."

This felt to Emma like she was about to leap out of a plane with a parachute that might not open.

She took the leap, and played the tape.

When she saw herself there, no older than thirteen, she turned to see Killian grin in amusement at how childlike she was, sticking out her tongue at the camera, together with her friend Lilly, a girl who she had met and that had shared a few adventures with her… only to find out that she had lied about her origins: Unlike Emma, Lilly belonged in a family. She had tried to run away. Emma had felt so hurt and sore (and angered because, seriously, how could someone who had a family, who had been adopted and raised and loved, want to run away from it, while she had been the unwanted one her whole life?), she walked out on Lilly, never to look back.

She had been hard on her. Too hard.

And she never saw her again.

Now, Emma was on the receiving end of the same deal: She had made a mistake… and it had cost her a friend, a friend that was deliberately choosing not to forgive her.

She silently hoped Lilly would be the one to forgive her now, in light of knowing how much it hurt when others refused to forgive her.

Hook chuckled. "Who's that lass?"

"Just an old friend." She replied with a broken whisper.

The sound of her voice alone drew his gaze. He studied her, every tiny, little flinch and eye movement. And tears were forming in her eyes.

That hurt so bad, when her eyes shone with the ache of loss. A pain he knew all too well.

Words were useless.

In a single motion, he raised his arm and placed it around her shoulders, pulling her to him, to his warmth; the corners of her lips went slightly up as she fell into his embrace and leaned her head on his shoulder, their hands with fingers still entwined.

His gaze fell on the ring.

Blue, blue, blue.

The image changed and suddenly there was an obnoxious, fat looking boy, teasing the camera. "Look what the new girl had with her!"

"And where's that?"

Emma flinched, her eyes suddenly wide open and her head upright. The scorn on her face was clear indication that she was probably seeing this for the first time… or at least for the first time, as far as she remembered.

"Wait… I don't think I remember…" She sniffed, her gaze fixed on the television. "Maybe… my next foster home?"

"Blocked out an unpleasant time?" He asked softly.

"I guess…"

Killian continued watching the freckled boy playing with the visual record device. "And who's this?"

"I don't think I remember any of this…" Emma seemed stunned, her tears fast drying up.

The sudden sound of a very familiar, icy voice froze them both, as the image cleared and young Emma stood beside a woman who looked eerily similar to… No. Not similar.

That was the Snow Queen.

Give that back, Kevin! The camera is Emma's, not yours. In this house we respect property, Emma.

"Bloody hell." Hook spoke, his wording very chilled. "Is that…?"·

They stood straight, aghast and stunned.

"Yeah…" Emma mumbled, her eyes fixed on the screen… and a few seconds later, the image of the woman who was now making their lives miserable disappeared in a haze of white noise.

Emma rewound at least six times, until she froze the image of the woman they had identified as Sarah Fischer.

"You… sure you have no recollection of this, Swan?" Killian turned to her, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Doesn't this jog your memory, even one bit?"

Stunned, Emma turned her eyes from the screen to his own blue orbs. "No. Not a damn thing!" she started to breathe hard. "Killian! She's here for me! I'm the one she's after!" She ran her hands through her hair. "What does she want with me? What will she do?"

He stared at her hands as they cradled her own head.

The ring was decidedly green. And green meant she was scared.

Seemed the little rock did work after all.

Killian sighed and rubbed his temple before switching off the screen and turning to her. He once again took her in his arms. "Hey… love, it's ok."

"No, no it's not ok! My little brother! What will happen to him? My dad, my mom… Elsa's also being used… and you!" She sobbed suddenly, her hands on his cheeks. "I don't want anything to happen to you!"

"Nothing will happen to me, darling, listen!" He smiled at her. "You are fleeing into panic, Swan, breathe. At least now we know who she was and why she's here. We now know you and her share a past and that she tampered with your memories of it! All he have to do now is figure out what her scheme is." He used his one hand to grab both of hers. "I told you, love… I excel at surviving, I won't be harmed. And if I do, well…" He tilted his head to a side with a smirk. "You're the savior, you'll swoop up, defeat that icy wench and save my sorry arse, won't you?"

She chuckled between tears. How did he always, always manage to make her smile when she was crying?

He kissed the fingers on both her hands. "For now, Emma, you need to rest, or at least to calm down." He cleaned the tears off with the back of his fingers. "There. Now…" He lowered his head and raised his eyebrows. "It's rather quiet outside. What do you say we… use the peace for a little nightcap before I walk you to you mum and dad's? Hmm?" He toyed with the little cleft on her chin. "We all have reason at times to feel antsy, love, but we can't let it rule our lives. Little moments... the here and now… remember all that?"

By then she was smiling, her eyes still shining through tears that would no longer cruise her cheeks.

"Well, I'm not in the mood for a drink, but… you could still take me home." She nodded.

He smiled back at her. "As you wish, my love."

She raised her hand and entwined her fingers with his once more. Killian kissed the knuckles on her hand and saw the ring again. It was turning yellow.

She was happy now.

"Look at that…" He raised her hand at eye level.

"Hmm?"

"I've been keeping an eye on this bloody thing." He drew breath, his eyes still studying the rock. "It was blue, green and now yellow. I believe the childish little knick-knack from the cereal box does have a little magic in there…"

Emma laughed and simply held on to Killian's hand as they left the Sheriff Station.

As they reached the door of the loft, she turned around and placed her arms around his neck. "And here we are again…"

"Indeed." He smiled, hand and hook on her waist. "Alas, you still owe me a date there, Swan."

"Yeah…" she whispered softly, then fell into a small silence before speaking again. "Thank you…" She sighed.

"For what, love?"

"For everything…" She shook her head. "For helping me with the paperwork, for taking Henry out sailing…"

"We had a grand time. "

"I'm sure you did."

"Asked me to do it again next week. I did tell him it was up to his mother, so be prepared…" He laughed softly. "He will badger you."

She nodded. "And also… thank you for tonight."

"I did nothing, love."

"You did EVERYTHING, Killian." She replied, her eyes fixed on his. "Do you know how many people have seen that box? That tape?" she caressed his cheek. "Not one. You're the first."

Killian damn near forgot how to breathe. He swallowed, deeply touched, and gave her a gentle nod. "I am indeed honored, love. I thank you for the trust."

"And you thought I didn't trust you?" she laughed softly.

He tangled his hand in her hair, feeling the strands from her ponytail caressing the inner faces of his fingers. "You can't begin to imagine what it means to me that you do, Emma."

She leaned up on the tips of her toes and kissed him softly before falling into a warm embrace. As they pulled apart, she leaned her hand softly on his chest and he once again grabbed her hand. "Uh-oh…"

"What?" she groaned with a happy smile.

He raised an eyebrow to her. "Well, given the fact that we have proven that the little trinket you're wearing does work, AND in accordance with your description of the meaning behind each color, then…" He showed the ring to her with a grin. "Either it's wrong, or you just got stroppy over something."

"It's strange." She smiled before getting completely lost in his eyes. "I'm not angry."

He lost himself in hers. "Then what are you, Swan?"

Her eyes showed it.

She knew it.

He knew it too.

"I don't know." She smiled gently.

"Blasted mystery." He whispered back, his hand caressing her cheek.

They continued to gaze yearningly into each other's eyes for what seemed ages, when it was mere seconds before they came together in a kiss that felt like… well, love.

And it was… so good.

Timeless, even.

He knew how he felt… and he knew how she felt too.

Seemed that red did not stand for angry.

She swallowed and looked to the floor as she stepped back, reaching for her key and trying to conceal (to no avail and to Killian's delight) the flush of red on her cheeks that matched the ring. "Anyway… see you… tomorrow?"

"Aye."

"Good night." She grinned as she opened her door.

"Night, Emma." He nodded back.

Just as the door was about to close, he pushed his hook through the gap. "Emma, wait!"

She opened the door again, smiling fully. "Yeah?"

He loved that smile. He lived and breathed for it. His face also lit up. "Do an old pirate a favor, Swan…"

"Such as…?"

He tilted his head to the ring, raising an eyebrow. "Don't take that ring off. Keep it."

She pressed her lips together. "Yeah. I was planning to."

He gave her a moonstruck stare. "Good." Was all he was able to whisper as the door finally closed between them.

He took the long road back to the Inn, smiling, licking his lips and sighing, stopping at every lamppost and wooden beam to lean his head back and close his eyes, trying to grace the inside of his eyelids with the image of her smile, that smile that was everything, anything and all.

She took a shower (colder than usual) and sang under the frothy shampoo bubbles, a really goofy grin adorning her freckled face the whole time, the sight of blue eyes staring at hers, as her bewildered parents sat outside, recognizing every symptom, David nodding in acknowledgment and Snow smiling, smiling and smiling some more, her infant son cradled in her arms.

The pirate… and the princess. Who could have known!

He was in love.

She was in love.

They were in love.

And the red of Emma's mood ring attested to it.