Title: The Savior and the Pirate
Summary: "We're stealing a boat?" Not that Emma had any room to talk, considering she still drove a car that she stole, its legitimacy now notwithstanding. "Commandeering, lass," Killian corrected. "Thieves steal. We're not thieves, we're pirates. We commandeer."
Spoilers: Up through 4x11, "Heroes and Villains"
Characters: Emma Swan and Killian Jones, with a cameo appearance by Daddy Charming.
Rating/Warning: K+. Here be Captain Swan fluff, my lovelies.
Disclaimer: Once Upon a Time and its characters were created by Eddie Kitsis and Adam Horowitz and are owned by ABC. I'm borrowing them but I promise I'll put them back when I'm done.
Author's Note: Happy Return from Hiatus Day! Here's a little Captain Swan piece in celebration of the end of a seemingly interminable hiatus. Feedback thrills me to pieces! Enjoy. :)

Dating a pirate – and holy crap, Emma Swan was actually dating a pirate – resulted in quite the interesting list of activities-turned-dates.

Their first date had of course been a proper date. A quiet and leisurely dinner, a walk along the pier and then home hand-in-hand, his leather jacket draped over her shoulders when the evening turned chilly. They'd had those few hours to themselves and it had been absolutely perfect.

But Emma Swan and Killian Jones soon came to discover that they didn't need a candlelit dinner and soft music to have a good time. No, they simply needed each other.

All Emma had been told about today's activity was that she should dress warmly. So she'd donned her usual jeans and a fluffy white sweater under her leather jacket and waited for Killian to pick her up at the station for a rare afternoon off together.

Of course, picking her up at the station meant that David had gotten to do the dad thing. He'd stood with his arms crossed over his chest and glared daggers at Killian. "Dad," an embarrassed Emma had groaned.

"I want her home in time for dinner," David had said sternly.

A mortified Emma groaned again and rolled her eyes. Killian just grinned as he slung his arm around Emma's shoulders and started leading her towards the door.

Emma probably would have remained mortified had she not caught her father's wink and smile when she turned to say goodbye to him. She smiled back and mouthed, Bye, Dad.

"So where are we going?" she asked Killian as they walked hand in hand down the street.

"You'll see, Swan," was all he said.

Okay, she thought, a little smile curling on her lips, so he wants to be mysterious. I suppose I can allow that.

They walked silently, their thumbs tenderly caressing each other. It soon became apparent that he was leading her towards the harbor. So that was why he wanted her to dress warmly. An afternoon down by the beach would of course necessitate warmer clothes due to the chilly breeze coming in off the ocean …

But they didn't head towards the beach. No, Killian instead turned towards the marina.

Her curiosity now at fever pitch, Emma tightened her hand around his as they walked down the rickety dock. He led her past three boats and tugged her to a stop in front of the fourth, a sailboat that practically gleamed in the bright sunlight.

Killian slipped his hand free from hers and, to Emma's surprise, climbed aboard the sailboat. Then he held his hand out to her, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"This can't be yours," she said as she eyed the vessel up and down. There was no way it was his. One, he would have told her if he'd bought a boat, and two, he wouldn't be happy with a boat this size. It was much smaller than The Jolly Roger; Killian could probably sail this thing in his sleep.

"Correct indeed, love," he agreed, waggling his eyebrows and grinning. "We're commandeering it for the afternoon."

"We're stealing a boat?"

Not that she had any room to talk, considering she still drove a car that she stole, its legitimacy now notwithstanding.

"Commandeering, lass," he corrected. She had to hand it to him; any other guy would be freaking out right now, wondering if maybe this choice of activity was the wrong one. But Killian knew Emma – "something of an open book" – and was not at all mistaking her teasing stalling for hesitance. "Thieves steal. We're not thieves, we're pirates. We commandeer."

"Uh huh." Still, the mischief in his eyes was too much to resist and when he held his hand out to her again, she took it with a grin and climbed aboard. "What do you need me to do, Captain?"

"Look alive, First Mate," he teased, "and prepare to set sail." Then, with swift expertness, he hoisted the sails, cast off, and steered them out to sea.

Once they were far enough out that the marina was simply a dot along the horizon, Killian lowered the anchor and let the boat rock softly in the waves. "Is this what you do when you take Henry sailing?" Emma asked after a moment. "'Commandeer' this boat and take him out here?"

"Aye, love," he said softly. "The lad makes a good first mate and he likes the water, just like his mother."

"What makes you think I like the water?"

"Where do you go when you need to think?"

At that, she smiled. Whenever she needed to think, she did find herself at a body of water, didn't she? Whether it was a pond or a lake or the ocean, the water seemed to calm her down like nothing else ever could.

He smiled back and then ducked into cabin for a moment. He returned with a small cooler – was that her father's? – and for the first time, Emma realized he hadn't just "commandeered" a boat at random. "Killian, whose boat is this?"

"How should I know, love? We commandeered it together."

She arched an eyebrow at him, letting him know the jig was up. He grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "Grumpy may have indicated that I could make use of his vessel today."

Wonderful. Leroy had a hand in planning their dates now? "So we didn't commandeer anything," Emma said. "We're borrowing it."

"No, we still commandeered it," Killian insisted.

"Whatever floats your boat." She realized her mistake as soon as the words left her mouth. Killian chuckled and quirked an eyebrow at her while she groaned. "Ugh, pun not intended."

As Killian emptied the cooler, Emma realized that Leroy was not the only one who'd added his expertise to the planning stages of this afternoon. Chicken salad sandwiches were not something Killian would have thought to bring on his own, and the potato and macaroni salads were her mother's recipes … and packed in her mother's plasticware.

"You like chicken salad?" she asked when he handed her a sandwich.

"I must admit I've never tried it," he said. "I wanted to bring grilled cheese for you but your mother mentioned that it wouldn't keep very well."

Emma smiled at his thoughtfulness. She unwrapped her sandwich and bit into it, her eyes closing almost involuntarily. Her mom's chicken salad was the best chicken salad she'd ever tasted.

"If chicken salad can get that kind of reaction out of you, I may have to bring you these sandwiches more often," Killian teased.

"Shut up," Emma said around of mouthful of chicken salad. She watched him take a bite of his sandwich and smirked when his eyes involuntarily closed against the taste. "You were saying?"

"Chicken salad is scrumptious," he said after he'd swallowed his bite. "I'll give it that."

For a couple of minutes, they ate in silence. Killian had packed water and soda bottles in the cooler but they decided by silent agreement to share his flask.

After Emma finished her sandwich and began digging into her mom's just as delicious potato salad, she asked, "So how many people helped you plan this afternoon?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Swan," he said, a sly grin on his lips.

"Uh huh, sure." As far as she could tell, there were at least three other people who'd had a hand in today's activity: Leroy, who'd allowed them use of his boat, David, who'd given Killian the cooler and had probably shown him how to pack it, and Snow, who'd made the sandwiches and salads and helped plan the menu.

Once she'd had her fill of lunch, Emma snagged the flask to wash down her meal with a sip of rum. Killian's rum was like nothing she'd ever tasted. It was smooth and sweet and somewhat tangy, and it carried with it the air of something decidedly Killian. She had no idea where he got it, especially here in Storybrooke, but it was indeed the best rum she'd ever had.

She handed the flask back to him with a smile and leaned back on her palms, stretching her legs out in front of her. The boat rocked softly in the gentle waves and the sun overhead was at just the right angle to beat down on her face, keeping away the chill of the ocean air. She closed her eyes and just listened. Listened to the soft sounds of the water and the sea birds, listened as Killian packed up the cooler and closed the lid with a quiet thud. Listened as he shifted closer to her. She opened her eyes just as he sat cross-legged beside her. "It's so quiet out here," she said, her voice soft as if she were afraid of breaking the peaceful silence.

"Aye. Just the wind and the birds and the lapping of the waves at the hull."

"And us," she added, smiling.

He smiled back. "And us."

With just the sounds of the ocean around them, it was easy to believe that they were the only two people on the planet. And right now, that was not at all a bad thing.

After a long moment of sitting and enjoying the quiet, Emma sat up straight and turned her attention to her pirate. "So, Captain, what else do you have planned for this afternoon?"

He grinned at her.

Killian Jones' plan for the afternoon had not at all included getting Emma Swan tipsy. And yet, that was eventually what ended up happening. The best laid plans and whatnot.

In hindsight, he should have realized what would come of his insinuation that they should probably put the flask away. The last time they'd gone out to dinner, she hadn't eaten much beforehand and a couple glasses of wine had gone straight to her head. She hadn't had much to eat today beyond the sandwich and the potato salad, and he didn't think her parents would appreciate him bringing their daughter back home in time for dinner this evening inebriated.

Of course when he'd tried to put the flask away, she'd playfully accused him of thinking she couldn't hold her liquor and just as playfully yanked the flask out of his hand and proceeded to show him just how much liquor she could hold.

And well, that was when things had gotten interesting.

"And then there was an ogre … an actual ogre! They look nothing like Shrek, by the way. And I would have been more disgusted by how bad its breath was if I hadn't been so damn scared to death. I was sure I was going to be ogre chow!"

Killian hid a smile. Apparently an intoxicated Emma Swan rambled. She'd decided to tell him about her first trip to the Enchanted Forest – despite the fact that they'd met during that trip. When he tried to bring that up to her, she'd shushed him with, "You weren't there for all of it, now shut up and let me tell the story."

And so he'd let her. She was amusing, and he adored seeing her this free and uninhibited with her walls completely down. The only problem was that her train of thought kept bouncing from one topic to another and he was finding it somewhat difficult to keep track of the timeline of her tale.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening as if she'd suddenly remembered something she'd always meant to ask him. "Have you ever eaten chimera?"

"Aye, love, once or twice."

"It's disgusting," Swan said, wrinkling her nose to prove her point. "I think it was the snake part of it that did it. It was kind of rubbery and … chewy. I was not a fan. Whatever we had to drink was good, though. But yeah, I was so happy to come back here and eat cereal and sandwiches and tacos." At the last word, she frowned and shuddered almost imperceptibly.

Though Killian had no idea what tacos were or why the mention of them would give her pause, especially considering she'd said she liked them, he snickered. "Enchanted Forest cuisine leaves a bit to be desired, Swan?"

"Totally. I was actually kind of excited when we got to Neverland and there was no chimera in sight. But we still had to scrounge for food and the berries there were weird. Having to scrounge for food sucks. I much prefer being able to open the fridge and make a sandwich."

He did not mistake the sadness in her eyes, sadness that he felt for her. From what little she'd told him of some of her early years, he'd no doubt that she'd had to scrounge for food in this world, too.

"Anyway," she said, shaking her head as if to shake the sadness from it, "what was I saying?"

"About food?"

"No, before that."

"Ogres."

"Right! Okay, so then my mom comes up and shoots the ogre right in the eye with an arrow. My mom's a badass."

That resulted in a full-blown laugh from Killian. "As is her daughter," he said, smiling.

And that phrasing was apparently too much for his Swan's rum-muddled brain because she frowned for a moment as she tried to make sense of it. Then she grinned. "Damn straight I am."

Damn straight, indeed. He'd never heard the term "badass" before Swan came into his life but he couldn't think of a more apt term for her. Tough, strong, confident, and a hero. She was bloody brilliant and amazing and … perfect.

They stayed out on the water until Swan's rambles became more linear and then began to drop off entirely. Clarity returned to her eyes as the alcohol-induced cloudiness gave way to lucidity. The breeze coming off the ocean had begun to turn chilly, so Killian lifted anchor and turned them around, heading back towards Storybrooke's harbor.

"I don't want this afternoon to end," Swan said softly.

Killian's heart skipped a beat in his chest. She'd been doing that more and more lately, letting little truths like that slip, and it never failed to both shock and thrill him. She was opening up to him, allowing him more and more into her heart with each little truth, each little admission of vulnerability. And oh gods, how he loved her for it.

"I don't, either, love," he admitted, "but it's going to get cold if we stay out here much longer."

She nodded in understanding. Killian focused on setting course. The calm seas helped because he had little to do but maintain heading and adjust every so often if need be. This vessel was small – too small for a former pirate – but sturdy. It was perfect for the occasional afternoon on the sea, whether it be with Henry or with his Swan.

He watched as she stood, the alcohol out of her system enough that she was steady on her feet, and crossed over to the rail, staring out at the water. Smiling softly, Killian stepped up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his chin on her shoulder. She smiled as well, placing her arms over his and leaning back into his chest.

They stayed that way for a moment and then Swan turned in his arms so they were face to face. Her gaze met his for the briefest of moments and then she leaned in for a kiss.

As the sun began to lower in the sky, casting pink and orange light through the wispy clouds, Killian Jones and Emma Swan shared a deep, passionate, lingering kiss. Colors exploded behind his eyelids, little fireworks of heat and passion. He felt her fingers in his hair, and his hand reached up to caress the back of her head.

When they finally broke for air, Emma smiled sheepishly at him. "I've always wanted to have a Titanic moment."

Killian smiled back and went in for another kiss. He had no idea what Titanic was or why she'd called a kiss like that a Titanic moment. All he knew was that if that was a Titanic moment, he wanted to have many, many more of them.

And after they'd finally docked and he'd walked her home and was invited to stay for dinner with her family, it suddenly struck Killian how one's life could change in the blink of an eye. A year and a half ago, he'd been consumed and blinded by anger and vengeance. And now here he was, at dinner with the woman he loved and her family, the anger and vengeance within him becoming more of a distant memory every day.

And it struck Killian Jones that maybe Emma Swan was not just the savior of Storybrooke. Maybe she was his savior, too.