Author's Notes: This is a one shot that takes place after Neverland. It's AU-ish, especially toward the end. I wrote it based off a CS Tumbler prompt. The prompt was –winter storm- and this is where it got me! I hope you enjoy and please leave feedback! I've decided that this will be the first of three Winter Storm fics, each focused on a different couple. This one is Captain Swan, next up is Outlaw Queen and the final fic will be Snowing.

Thank you for reading!

Any Port In A Storm

There were a lot of things that made living in a small town in Maine really great. Things like her parents, and Henry, and a town full of people that really respected her both as a savior and a sheriff. Emma liked all of those things and more about Storybrooke. Sure, there was an excess of magic and danger and quirky villains always out to make life a little harder, but even that was starting to grow on her a bit

The real downside, however, were the winters.

Boston had its rough years, and New York wasn't exactly tropical either, but nothing compared to the winters in Maine. Perched right up against the sea like it was, Storybrooke's could be especially brutal. As sheriff, it was Emma's job to make sure that no one froze to death or got stuck in their homes without food or water. This was especially important now that Hood's Merry Men were camped near town. They were the stubborn sort, proud outdoorsmen who staunchly refused to be chased indoors. She also knew that not everyone was prepared for emergencies the way that Mary Margaret was. All of those reasons were why she found herself, on a day with record snowfall, wandering around town making sure everyone was safe and cozy in their homes.

When she was cruising around in the squad car, the task wasn't so daunting. The heater kept her warm enough, and the town itself was actually quite pretty when it was peaceful. Though the sky was the same color as iron, Emma had always loved the sight of falling snow.

The trouble was, there were times when she had to leave her warm squad car and venture out into the falling snow, and then she remembered why she hated winter in Maine so much.

One of her first stops had been the Merry Men's camp. Luckily even Little John had abandoned the place for the comfort of Granny's. Satisfied that there would be no woodsmen to thaw come the weekend, the sheriff continued on to Regina's vault.

It too was silent and unoccupied, which was a relief. Regina was no fool and she was probably tucked warmly in her lavish home. But there were valuable and magical things here that she might have come to safeguard during the blizzard. Relieved that all was well here, Emma pushed her way through the snow drifts toward her car. There was one more person to check on, and she'd been putting it off. There was no avoiding it now though…as sheriff, she had to make sure everyone was okay, even if everyone had come to include arrogant, infuriatingly sarcastic pirates.

The drive to the dockyards wasn't near long enough. She didn't feel prepared for another round with Captain Hook, particularly not if he was going to continue to insist that he would…how did he phrase it? Win her heart.

The fact of the matter was, he was too tempting by half, and though Emma wasn't sure her heart was in danger of being won, she certainly wasn't blind. He never failed to elicit a response from her, in more ways than one, and she just wasn't sure she was in the right frame of mind for a sparring match with him. But she had her responsibilities.

She parked, got out of her car and looked over at the Jolly Roger. She had been expertly moored by the Lost Boys under Killian's watchful eye. Snow had gathered on her mast, yard arms and deck and she rocked in the choppy waters. She really was a beautiful ship, even a landlubber like Emma could appreciate that. And no doubt her captain had gone to shelter inside.

Sucking in a determined breath, Emma headed toward the gangplank.

The decks were deserted, but she knew that Killian was here. Everyone else was sheltered in town, but William Smee had mentioned that the Captain had preferred to avoid Granny's due to the influx of people escaping the weather. Emma couldn't fault him for that. Between the Merry Men and the Lost Boys alone the place was full almost to bursting. This was a much more private way to wait out the blizzard.

She made her way to Killian's private quarters, moving awkwardly as the ship rocked to and fro. But she made it to the cabin without losing her footing and knocked on the door before she could talk herself into walking right back off of this ship.

A moment later and it swung open, bringing a welcome gust of warm air from the room itself. Killian stared down at her, his eyes showing mild surprise at her presence here although he didn't challenge her. Rather than the black and leather ensemble that Emma usually saw him in, Killian had donned a thick wool sweater which was the same grey as the sea around the ship. His hair was tousled and his eyes were serious as he gazed down at her. Emma scrambled for words, trying to remember why she'd come in the first place, but Killian beat her to it.

"Worried about me, love?" he asked. His smile was wry and teasing but quietly so. He seemed reserved.

"I, uh…was just doing my rounds, making sure everyone's got shelter and food to last through the storm. You…weren't at Granny's so…" God, what the hell was wrong with her? Killian's somber mood was really throwing her. She was used to him flirting, and boasting, and being either far too familiar or else far too short tempered for her liking. But a quiet, reflective Captain Hook was not something she had been prepared for. His eyes were stormy and darker than normal, and she realized suddenly that he'd been sitting at his desk when she'd interrupted him. She could see the ship's log open on it, and there were other papers spread over the surface as well.

"As you see, I've got all the shelter I need. The Jolly's weathered worse than this, lass." He was watching her and she knew she should leave, but her feet stayed rooted to the floor. After a long moment, Killian stepped aside and allowed Emma into his inner sanctum.

Her gaze slipped to his desk and she realized immediately what had put the pirate in such a reflective mood. There was a drawing of a woman – Milah presumably – on his desk.

"A poor copy," he said, "of a drawing that couldn't capture the essence of her anyway. But it's all I've left."

Emma nodded, unsure of what to say. She turned back to face Killian and found that he was already invading her space. He did it often, but this time it wasn't a power play. He was lonely. She knew the feeling well enough to recognize it in others.

"You miss her." It wasn't a question, but Killian surprised her by shaking his head.

"No, not…not like I used to. It's been too long, I've lived too long without her. I still love her, but…it's like loving a dream."

She didn't ask the obvious question. She stood with him in the middle of his cabin, with the snow falling thick outside and the light of lantern flickering around them inside, and she realized that she was in serious, serious danger of losing herself in him.

He sensed it, sensed her moment of weakness, and stepped closer. He pulled a lock of her hair over her shoulder, running his fingers through it gently before letting it rest.

"I've loved her, and I've loved my dreams of her, for a long time. But something is changing, after all these years. Suddenly the dreams aren't enough. Revenge isn't enough," he said. Unable to hold his intense blue gaze, Emma dropped her eyes to his sweater. Another mistake on her part…it was thick, the type that sailors wore when they stood watch on deck in the cold weather. It looked warm and inviting…

"You stormed into my life with your sword and your bloody annoying superpower, beautiful and far too stubborn, and suddenly everything I'd lived for over the last three hundred years wasn't enough. Do you know what that does to man, lass?" Killian asked her, his voice husky.

Why had she come? She couldn't even meet his gaze, because she knew if she looked up at him the spell would be complete and she'd be kissing him and everything she'd done to protect herself from him would be for naught. She could resist the cocksure, boastful pirate, but this? This quiet, lonely man slipped right past all her defenses. She should have known better than to come alone, but it was too late now. Her only option was escape.

"I guess not," she said, trying to slip around him toward the door. "Look, I just came to see if you're okay, and clearly you are, so I'm going to head back to town and—"

She didn't make it any further. Killian's hand flashed out, faster than she would have believed, and he caught her arm. He pulled her toward him and she collided with that sweater of his, her breath leaving her all at once as her heart slammed into overdrive at the unexpectedly intimate contact. Before she could question him, before she'd even found her footing after being pulled into his body, he had bent his knees and captured her lips.

For a second, Emma was far too surprised to pull away. When she didn't, Killian made a soft noise, one full of desperate longing, and wrapped himself around her. His hand slipped into her hair and tangled there while his left arm anchored her to his body and he straightened to his full height as she went up on her toes to follow.

She responded without thinking, her arms finding their way around his neck as the kiss went on, deepening until she was sure her heart would never slow down again.

After a few blissful moments, he pulled back the barest bit, his nose bumping gently against hers.

"Emma," he said, his voice husky enough to send shivers down her spine, "I don't care why you came, but don't leave."

And, for perhaps the first time ever, Emma realized that she didn't want to go anywhere. Shoving away her doubts, just for a moment, she pulled him back down for another kiss. She was confused and scared and she knew she couldn't afford to lose anyone she cared about again, but she also knew she needed him. The details they could work out later. For now, it was enough that she was here with him in this warm, private space, giving into something real and powerful and intense.

For now, she was safe from the storm.