Moving day was a hassle. Not that Emma and Henry had a inordinate amount of possessions, quite the opposite really, perhaps the one and only upside of never staying in one place for long. No, the hassle came from the fact that nearly everyone in the small town had insisted on giving the new couple house warming presents. And not just scented candles or manageable trinkets, but dishes and paintings and furniture. All very lovely. All extremely heavy.

As much of a hassle as moving was, Emma found herself genuinely touched at not only the outpouring of generosity from the town folk. Of their acceptance of her pirate. And though he'd never admit it, Killian felt doubly so. The gifts, with a few puzzling exceptions, were all surprisingly to their taste and looked right at home in the cottage.

"It really is a great house," David said appraisingly, dusting his hands as he took in the airy space. Huffing only slightly from manoeuvring a large, lovely, but seriously massive, mirror onto the mantle of the fireplace. Emma eyed his handiwork, an only slightly ironic gift from Regina of all people, and considered if it was worth telling David it was crooked. Or that she could have put it up much more easily with her magic.

"Oh no, there's a scratch," Mary Margret called from the kitchen, a frown on her face as she ran her finger along the pale marble counter. Her words sent Emma's mind traitorously back to that night and the events that had caused said scratch. Hurriedly, she turned her back to her parents as she felt her whole body blush. Wasting no time, she busied herself with a box resting on the table, a house warming gift from Marco. She swallowed thickly and when she smelt the musk of soft leather in her nose and felt a gentle hand on her hip. There goes any chance of a cool and collected response, she thought.

"Did you hear that, Swan?" Killian said, his voice low in her ear. His body so completely invading her personal space. Not that she minded normally. You know, when her parents were not three feet away, ogling the damage from their sexcapades. "The counter is positively wrecked, darling." The way he said wrecked was positively obscene, colouring Emma an even more vibrant shade of crimson. She swatted at his hand as discreetly as she could.

"Well, I wouldn't say it's wrecked," David interjected as he crossed the room. His brows kit as he too appraised the kitchen island, saving - saving, oh God, was this conversation still happening?! - Emma the need to form a retort. "But if you're that upset about it, I'm sure the dwarves would be happy to take a look. They're pretty good with stone."

"I don't know, David," Mary Margaret said. "It's pretty deep…"

"This box is nothing but leather jackets," Emma said quickly. Shooting Killian a scathing look as he scoffed at her mother's comment. Emma's voice, surprisingly, only a couple octaves too high. "I'll just go put it in the other room."

"Allow me, love," Killian said, gently running his fingers along her arm before he pried the box from her hands. Emma was hit with déjà vu so overwhelmingly that the air was knocked out of her lungs. She felt like she was standing back in the Sheriff's Station, all those weeks ago. Only this time, she felt no need to make a quip about being able to handle it. She meet Killian's eyes and while a salacious grin painted his face, his features were soft. His eyes brimming with an unwavering devotion. With love. With a smile, Emma curled her fingers around the charms on his necklace, pulling his lips a hairsbreadth away from her own.

"Thanks," She whispered, watching his Adam's apple bob enticingly, before she gently kissed his cheek, her lips lingering. Her eyes full of promise, as her hand slowly slid down his chest. Hoping that he'd understand her thanks wasn't just for the heavy lifting, but for his support, his friendship, his love. For always chasing her.

"Anything for you, my love," He replied quietly, and Emma knew he understood. He always did. His eyes crinkling as he smiled widely. The happiness he felt seemingly dripping off his body in waves. He lifted the box from the table, and stumbled slightly from the unexpected weight of it. Tipping the box open with his thumb, he raised his brow. "Swan," Killian said, a perplexed look on his face. He shot a furtive glance at her parents before continuing. "You do realize there's nothing but cooking utensils in here?"

"Shut up," Emma said, quickly brushing her lips against his, as she pushed him towards the bedroom. With a chuckle, he dutifully strode down the hall, whistling a tune as he went. Emma watched him retreat before she turned back to face her parents. She sighed, realizing too late that his chivalry had cost her an escape.

"My room's all done," Henry announced, appearing suddenly in the hall. Empty boxes in tow. Hopefully bringing an end to the damn island scratch debacle. "And I'm starving. What's for dinner?"

"I seriously doubt you're starving, kid," Emma chided, ruffling his hair. He rolled his eyes at his mother, his teenage attitude in full swing. Yeah, that was definitely genetic, thought Emma as she fought to keep the smile off her face.

"Well, since we've yet to track down the pots and pans," David said, already shrugging into his coat. "How 'bout pizza? Your mom's treat?" He added, his eyes twinkling at Henry's murmurs of contentment and Emma's incredulous look. "You grab the pizza, we'll pick up Neal from Granny's? Meet you at the loft, in say twenty?"

"Sounds good," Emma said. She managed to plant a kiss on Henry despite the mad dash he made for the door. She shook her head over the teen's insatiable metabolism. She pulled each of her parents into a tight hug before they followed Henry out the door, murmuring her thanks for all their help with the move.

"Twenty minutes," Killian said, the words out of his mouth almost as soon as the door hit the frame. "However shall we occupy ourselves, Swan?" His hand and hook suddenly on her hips as he backed her against the table with a deliberate persistence. His hips gently rocking against hers.

"We have to be at my parents' loft in twenty minutes," Emma said, in what she hoped was a firm voice. Her palms rested on his chest, in an attempt to keep him a respectful distance. "With pizza. We don't have much time to occupy."

"Come on now, Swan," He asked, his voice gravelly. His hook sliding down her side, sending a small shiver through her. "I had hoped we could christen our new furniture." With that, his lifted her onto the table, stepping firmly between her legs. He slid his arm around her waist, pulling her tightly against him, his mouth doing the most distracting things to her skin.

"All of it? In twenty minutes?" Emma said arching into his touch. She bit her lip to hold back a low moan, as he kissed her collar sloppily. "My, that is auspicious."

"Don't be cheeky, Swan. We'll just make a start," He said, sucking a mark onto her neck. "We'll finish the rest tonight—"

"Killian—"

"Emma, this is, if I am not mistaken, a quiet moment and I fully intend to enjoy it." Killian flashed her a mischievous smirk as he popped the 't' in that way that never failed to make Emma's toes curl.

"I don't think this qualifies as quiet! There's still the little issue of Gold. And Elsa's missing sister," Emma said, her voice coming out in a decidedly more husky tone than she was comfortable with. She held back a groan as his teeth skimmed her pulse. "And the Snow Queen, there's nothing to stop her from coming back—"

"Aye," Killian said, his breath hot against her neck. His stubble tickling as he trailed kisses up her neck to her ear. "All very pressing issues to be sure." He said roughly rocking his hips against hers. The zipper of his denim hitting her exactly where she needed it.

"We're going to be late for pizza," Emma complained, her thoughts murky as he gently trailed his lips along her jaw. His hand slipping beneath her soft cotton t-shirt, tracing slow patterns on her skin.

"Do you want me to stop, Swan?" He whispered, his words tickling the shell of her ear. Emma rolled her eyes before she ran her fingertips along his hook, the metal cool to her touch. With a def flick of her wrist, she twisted his hook off and set it gently on the table.

"What's the matter, Swan," He asked, placing a small kiss below her ear. "I thought you liked the hook?" His hand inching higher along her torso to brush against the lace of her bra.

"Oh, I do, but we are not going to risk scratching this table." Emma said, ignoring his laughter. She twined her arms around Killian's neck, pulling him tightly against her. She sighed as he kissed her, slowly, passionately. She was certain that they would be late for pizza. But she didn't care. She felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be, something she hadn't experienced for a very long time. And that was something she could definitely get used to without even trying.

Really and truly done with this story now! Thanks again for all the support, your kind reviews never fail to put a smile on my face :)