Emma's cheeks hurt from smiling, the number of photographs being taken were numbering more than 100. It was even pointed out by Mary Margaret that this was nothing compared to Saturday's wedding for the couple. However, Emma stood there proudly with David and his fiancé, enjoying her friends' celebratory moods. While her pride in David's leadership and her gratitude for Graham were on display, Emma admittedly had not fully spoken to Killian about everything that had gone down. So when she emerged from the facilities after the party had wound down, she was slightly surprised to find him chatting with Granny and waiting on her.

"Oh," she said with a tiny gasp. "You're still here?"

He pulled back his phone and gave a smile to the older woman who had been staring at the screen. "Till next time Mrs. Lucas?" The older woman adjusted her glasses and smiled one of those rare grins before sauntering back into the kitchen with an order to get the dishes washed. "I had hoped we might talk."

"You want to talk?" She was repeating him, echoing his words as though he might interpret that as a conversation. It was a long shot, but she tried. Tried and failed.

He handed her the jacket she had left on the bench seat in the corner, holding it out in a way that she could step right into it. She did so out of reflex, lifting up her blond hair as he adjusted it on her shoulders. His hands lingered about her shoulders a bit longer than necessary before she turned to face him. "I take it you want to talk someplace else."

He smiled at the obviousness of the half statement and half question, which made her wonder if he had any control of the way his eyebrow would arch as if able to convey messages on its own. There was something always playful and challenging about him. And for a moment she flashed back to that same look over her in bed or between her thighs. It was so familiar and so much a part of him that she honestly didn't know if he even realized he did it.

"I believe Mrs. Lucas would like to close up," he said, scratching behind his ear a little nervously. "We could go…"

Holding up one finger she moved around the counter and stood on her toes so that she could stretch her arms into the kitchen. After a quick word with the proprietress, she carried the brown paper sack over to Killian and tilted her head to the door. "Leftovers," she explained, lifting the bag. "My place?"

The steam from their matching mugs of hot tea rose from the small table in Emma's kitchen and mingled in the air between them as they both stirred and stared into the depths of the murkiness. David's victory had been confirmed a few hours before, the party kicking in then with more music, hugs, celebratory toasts, and plenty of pictures being taken. Though Killian had stayed by her side through the party, Emma had brushed off his attempts to talk about their issues by telling him it was David's night.

"You do realize I am okay with you going," Emma said, breaking the silence with a crack in her voice. "I know it's your dream." Her blonde hair that had been so intricately braided now hung in even more pronounced waves over her shoulders and the delicate heels she had worn were the first things she had kicked off upon entering.

He chuckled lowly, lifting the mug to his lips and sipping before he responded. "Do you know what I was sitting here thinking?" he asked. She shook her head. "These past couple of months with you have felt like a dream. You are everything I have ever wanted and then some. And you are certainly more wonderful than a few weeks on a ship with a bunch of philanthropists and do-gooders. Darling, I can write a check to Tink and get the same…"

Stirring at the amber liquid in her mug again, Emma cringed. "You don't replace your dream with another, not that easily," she said. "Why won't you see that everything will be the same when you get back? Do you not trust me to be here? Do you think I'm going to go sleep with another man? What is it?" Her lacquered nails on one hand drug across the table.

"I trust you implicitly," he said, raising his blue eyes to meet her gaze. "But you must admit that things wouldn't be the same. They aren't the same now and that's because we've been fighting over this." Somehow, even across the table, he managed to look at her with such intensity that she almost shuddered under his gaze. "Love, I'm not afraid of what we will become if I was to be absent for a bit. I'm not a coward about such things."

"Then why?" Her green eyes were soft and less stubborn, but still she had clearly decided that he was hiding something from her.

He settled back into the chair, one arm still resting on the table with the sleeve of his shirt pushed toward his elbow. "Do you know how I became a salesman?" he asked, ignoring her look of annoyance that he wasn't directly answering her question. "I came to Storybrooke to start over, to get away from memories that hurt, and to find a new beginning. I wasn't interested in the outcome so much as long as it was different than the past. I was hardly an honorable man, but I kept to myself and existed through the days. I wasn't living, only existing."

The pause in his statement gave Emma her own pause as she tried to remember if she'd ever even asked about that part of his life. She knew of how it felt to feel alone in a world that was not always friendly to the unattached. "What changed?"

Killian went on to explain meeting Eric and Ariel, who had, despite his protests, had wormed their way into his life. Ariel had been the most determined, slapping some sense into him when he became too melancholy or desperate. Eric had not invited him to begin the job, but forced it upon him in a gentle but stern way. "He drug me along on sales calls, complained he was too busy and then asked for help. Soon I didn't even realize that I was working there because I didn't remember not doing it. It became a habit."

"And you don't like it?" Emma prodded.

"It's not that I hate it," he explained, his face contorting under the pressure of finding the right words. "I simply don't feel anything about it usually. I suppose that being with you has brought some of this out."

Her head tilted to one side, the golden waves cascading downward. While it was not her design, she reached out to stroke the back of his hand on the table, not aware of her action until he was smiling at her hand covering his. "Are you saying I'm the reason you hate your job?" she asked, brow furrowing. "Am I the reason you want to stay?"

There was a certain tenderness to the way his left hand reached out to cover hers, creating a near pile of limbs there on the table. "Emma, you have not brought out anything was not already there, love," he answered reassuringly. "You see, I look at you and see a woman who is so brave, sure, and dedicated to her career that she practically glows. I saw how you were on that case to help Elsa. I see how proud you are and how proud others are of you. But mostly, love, I have come to feel so much for you that it dulls other things in my life. And it encourages me to look for more in my life so that I might feel that way again. Because I want to be the man that my brother would want me to be. Who you would want me to be. And I don't think that it requires my captaining a ship to do so."

"Then why not go with Tink? You'd…"

"Because it is not what I wish to do," he said. "This thing that Tink is doing is noble, but it would be quite reckless of me to give up all that I have for an adventure that would not completely satisfy my desire for more in my life."

She didn't jerk back her hand, stilling the motions for a moment as she let his words sink over her. She had, as he said, presumed to know his heart and desires when she didn't truly know. It was a sad state that left her feeling as though she should have known more, done more to protect him and save him. She'd been more concerned about herself. "So you don't want to go on this with Tink and Graham. What do you want to do?"

It seemed a question more for someone in college or someone with not much experience. But he took it well. "I was considering some options here in Storybrooke."

"Are you staying because of me?" she asked. The question was imply worded, but she was nervous to ask it. He had danced around the answer already and she needed to know. When he didn't answer at first, pulled her own courage from within. "I know that it is more complicated than that, Killian, but you're putting a lot of pressure on me. Maybe it isn't even you. It's me. It's everyone telling me how great we are together. It's everyone expecting me to be happy."

"You're not happy?" He could have sworn she was happy, sworn that she was not scared any longer. Maybe he was wrong.

Her fingers twisted and her nostrils flared. "Of course I am. You make me happy. My job, my friends, my life makes me happy, even if it doesn't come as naturally to me. I just don't think I'm up for being responsible for your happiness," she said, her eyes brimming with tears. "I see how I am about you. If you're having a good day then I feel good too. But is the reverse true because I don't know how to handle that?"

While he could see the hope evident in her from the way she leaned toward him and the way her eyebrows lifted, he still shook his head no. "As much as you are a reason for my desire to stay, you're also a factor in my wanting to be a better man. I want to be worthy of you, Emma. And if shipping off to parts unknown would do that, I'd gladly pack my belongings. But my love, I want to stay because it feels the right thing to do. I can't presume to know what will happen in the future, but I know that want that future with you. I want that future to include you." He cleared his throat. "But the real reason I wish to avoid this trip and this job for Tink is that I am not the same man that she remembers as daring and adventurous. I'm not as naïve as I was, nor as reckless. I don't think that is a bad thing."

Her eyes closed as if that news was more than she could handle, more than her mind could take in as he watched her with a hopeful expression that imitated her own. "I don't like this," she said, barely loud enough for him to make out. "This was supposed to be what you wanted, your dream. And I don't want to see you hurting because you think I'm too weak to handle you leaving."

"I don't think you're weak, my love. Quite the contrary. I'm in awe of your strength, in love with your goodness, and fascinated by your intelligence. Weak is not a word I would use to describe you." The fondness in his words was evident, as was the sparkle about his eyes. "You don't seem to see it, but you are simply brilliant. I want to make you see that and believe it too."

Her expression twisted and she fell back against the chair. "I wish I could believe you, but no matter what I still have that voice inside me that says this isn't going to end well for me. I'm going to end up alone. Before I met you, I was okay with that. I was okay with knowing I'd be an aunt to David and Mary Margaret's kids. I'd be meeting Ruby for drinks and watching reruns of Sex and the City with her. I'd go out on bad dates and sneak out through the bathroom window. But you make me want more. I love that, but I don't like feeling this way. I don't like that I feel sick to my stomach at the idea of you leaving. I hate that you have that power. You could crush me, destroy me, and yet I still…I still want you. I still love you."

"And I love you too, Emma. I can't lose sight of the privilege it is to love you. I'm a lucky bloke to have you in my life, Emma. And perhaps that is the start of the adventure I'm meant for instead."

Her face paled a bit at the implication, but she didn't run. That was somewhat of a victory. "Maybe I have an idea," she said slowly.

"I'm all ears, love." He took another sip of the now cooling liquid in his mug. He had to admit he had noticed that she had chosen to serve him his comfort drink rather than her own, forgoing the chocolate or coffee for the tea that he had pointed out on a shopping trip once was the same that his mother preferred.

"You still think that David's idea about the water safety and search and rescue equipment is important to the city and the department?" she asked, recalling the work he had done to try to get the city to procure it. "I know that didn't go well with the screw up on the proper paperwork, but what if…what if it did work. The city would need someone who could manage such a tactical unit. Maybe…"

Killian looked suspiciously as her. "Me work for the city?"

"Well, it might need to be a bigger operation than that. Many of the neighboring cities haven't had enough money to do this either. So if everyone were to come together…"

"It could work as a joint venture." He let his eyes close for a minute as if imagining the situation. "It could work."

As his eyes opened he was greeted with Emma's beatific smile that always signaled some sort of victory. "I was wrong about you," she said grimly. "When I first met you, I assumed you were one of those guys always looking for the easy way. I kind of assumed you'd disappear after I finally gave in and slept with you."

It was his turn to laugh and smile at her semi-confession. "Assumed or hoped, love? I seem to recall you were not exactly seeking my attention. I thought you would never answer that first text I sent you."

Pretending to think about that for a second, Emma didn't let her smile falter. "Maybe I sort of already liked you from the bar."

***AAA***

The morning light reflected brightly off the fresh blanket of snow as Emma stood at the living room window with her robe knotted around her waist and a throw blanket over her shoulders. She was surprised to even be awake, but truthfully she had done little more than doze. Killian had been willing to talk about the issue of his future and plans with her so she had listened. While she was still nervous at his words and the responsibility she felt, she had conceded that she was willing to try.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked when she heard his footsteps behind her. "I mean this is a major change."

"David said he was willing to hear us out." His accent was thicker in the morning with the sleep thick voice still struggling to surface. "And I do know a thing or two about ships and water, love."

"He'll listen. I still think this is a good idea." Her eyes still stared out at the roadway below, a single set of tracks from a car on an early morning trek to work probably. "I made you some tea," she said absently.

Kissing her cheek, he moved toward the kitchen where he found the mug waiting on him with a bit of toast and soft pile of scrambled eggs. His eyebrows raised as he dug the waiting fork into the food. "Breakfast?"

"You're not the only one who can cook," she muttered, stalking across the short area between the living room and kitchen to grab her own plate. "I have survived more than two decades without your culinary expertise."

There was a comfortable quietness that fell over them as they chewed and ate, slightly tinged with nervousness that was punctuated with Emma looking back at her phone. She had texted David the night before when she'd had the idea, inviting him over that morning. He'd balked at first at the hour, but eventually agreed when she insisted on its importance.

"I should not feel so nervous about this, love," Killian said, sliding the knife across the toast. "But it is not every day…"

"You'll be fine," Emma said, cutting him off as there was a short rap at the door signaling David's arrival. "Just don't get so nervous that you call him sir or something."

David's smile was warm as he hugged and kissed Emma's cheek and clapped Killian on the back of his shoulder before collapsing into one of the seats. After a brief teasing that they had not waited breakfast on him, he earned a groan from Emma as she disappeared into the kitchen to fix him a plate with the bacon she knew he would want more than anything.

"You look cozy?" David said, hesitating on the word and hoping it wasn't a set up. "But I don't think you called me over to see that."

Killian nodded his head and wiped his fingers on a napkin before he brought up the subject of the equipment and his possible role in that. David, while not thrilled to revisit the issue that could have been an ethical dilemma had Regina not stepped in, he listened, asked a few questions, and kept his face stoic. To her credit, Emma let Killian speak and stayed in the background while he did. She was hopeful that he felt her support. Later, after David left and asked that Killian meet him at Regina's office, Emma uncharacteristically sat in Killian's lap.

"I'm proud of you," she said with a smile.

His initial reaction was to scoff at her compliment. "For what, love? I have done nothing more than used a connection to try to obtain a new job. You heard him. It's going to pay less, require longer hours, and probably be the source of quite a bit of stress. But the opportunity is what I want so there's that."

He held her loosely as she toyed with his hair. "Maybe we do make a good team?"

"I've always said that, but maybe now we can prove it."

***AAA***

Emma slid through the narrow opening in the door, careful not to let the yellow dress catch on anything with its delicate lacey fabric. Two fingers delicately touching her lips, she fell back against the wooden door, letting it close behind her as she watched Ruby adjust the fingertip veil over Mary Margaret's face.

"You look beautiful," Emma said, smiling at her friends. "Absolutely beautiful."

"And you," Ruby said, shifting her glance between the clock on the wall and Emma, "look late."

"And guilty," the bride added. Pulling back from Ruby to inspect Emma a little better, the teacher's discerning eyes dragged along the blonde across the room. The dress fit her curves perfectly with the a-line design cinching at her waist. Her blonde hair was curled in a princess style, with the sides making a thick twisted braid that wrapped the top of her head. However, her cheeks were a bit too pink and the lipstick that the three women had chosen was a bit smudged. "Where's Killian?"

Emma didn't dignify that question with a response, passing the two women to reapply and touch up her make up at the mirror. However, Mary Margaret, who had managed to wear her mother's dress, grandmother's veil, and Ruth's silvery white shoes, was not about to give up on her. "Celebrating?"

"It's your wedding day," Emma said, brushing off her friend's veiled accusation. "Aren't we supposed to be…"

Ruby rolled her eyes again, bumping her similarly clothed hip against Emma's before inspecting her own appearance in the mirror. "Give her a break, Mary Margaret," she chastised lightly. "So she snuck off with her boyfriend. Who cares? It wasn't like she missed anything." Ruby turned quickly, eyes narrowing at Emma. "But seriously? Making out in a church?"

"I was looking for her earrings," Emma said pointedly. "The ones she said she couldn't get married without having?"

"With your mouth? Because I don't usually look for jewelry that way," Ruby countered, pursing her painted lips. "Or did you get distracted?"

Mary Margaret's giggle bounced off the walls of the bridal chamber, echoing slightly as she shifted. "We're embarrassing her," she warned Ruby. She reached out both her hands and wiggled her fingers at her friends. "So I want to talk to both of you."

Suppressing a groan, Ruby joined hands with her friend and sighed dramatically. "Is this where you tell us that nothing is going to change because you're getting married? That we'll always have Saturday morning brunch to gossip even when you're pushing a baby carriage and won't have mimosas because you're nursing or something?"

"We'll start having them at her and David's place, in between the toys and yells of 'no' and 'stop that,'" Emma added. "We'll have to come up with code names for things because kids have big ears and always hear what you don't want them to hear." Her fingers curled with the bride's.

"I wanted to talk to you about the baby," Mary Margaret said in exasperation. "But you're right, everything will change now that I'm getting married and Emma's taking more time with Henry and practically living with Killian." She smiled warmly at both her friends. "Now we just need to get Ruby settled into a relationship instead of dating her way up and down the Eastern Seaboard."

"I don't do blind dates," Ruby protested. "So don't even think about that."

"What about that furniture guy you were trying to set me up with?" Emma asked as if she was just remembering that moment. "Walton? Washington? Walsh! That's it! Walsh!"

The brunette attendant's nose wrinkled in distaste. "Not my type," she spat. "He's such a bore."

The bride squeezed both their hands. "I don't want to remind the two of you that this my day, but it is. Bride in her wedding gown here. People about to watch me walk down the aisle." She pretended to look annoyed, but couldn't help the smile that cracked through her features. "And I want to talk to the two of you."

Both attendants ducked their heads in mock shame and muttered apologies before Mary Margaret continued. "So we don't know for sure about the sex of the baby, but we're thinking this is going to be a girl." Her eyes lit up as she said it, knowing that both women knew she had been not so secretly dreaming of a baby girl in lacey pink dresses and bows. Emma had even joked that it would be hilarious if the teacher got her wish only for the child to be a tomboy. "And Ruby, we want you to be the godmother."

"Me?" Ruby asked incredulously. "Wait? Is this an attempt to get me to go to church more? Or are you trying to tie me down with responsibility or something?"

"No, we want you to be her godmother and help shape and mold her into a beautiful and strong woman because that's who you are. We couldn't think of anyone better for the job." Tears were pooling in the teacher's eyes, threatening to fall.

Still staring in disbelief, her mouth open a bit. "What about Emma? She'd be better…"

"Emma will always be Aunt Emma," Mary Margaret explained, sharing a tender look with the blonde. "And we were thinking that if this is a girl, we'd like to name her Emma. That way her life is made up of the strongest women we know."

***AAA***

If Emma thought about it much more, she might actually go mad. There was Henry twirling around in a strange dance with his future stepmother Tamera. There was no rhythm to it and no sign of any formal steps, but they were laughing with heads thrown back and the subject of a cell phone video shot by Neal. The bride was in a conversation with the woman the groom's father had been trying to set him up with for years. The groom was acting out music video scenes with his coworkers, including an imitation of the Backstreet Boys that Emma knew her mind would never unsee. Killian seemed to be in a deep conversation with Regina, who had already told him twice that she did not do city business at social events or on the weekends. Ruby was either flirting with Graham or was seriously considering a career change to flower arranging for all the attention she was paying to the centerpiece. Even Granny was dancing with some older gentleman, an apron still on and what looked like a spatula in her hand like a scepter. There was just something so odd and out of place about the whole situation, a surreal existence for a woman who would forever characterize herself as a loner.

Her feet aching from the uncomfortable shoes that the bride had picked, Emma had already kicked one off and the other was dangling from her toes as she giggled at her son's latest attempt at a dance move. "Can I convince you to let me glide you across the floor?"

Emma felt his lips on her temple, closing her eyes briefly at the contact. "Maybe in a few," she said, trying not to think about putting her shoes back on her feet. "Any news to report?"

Killian pushed the chair closer to her before sitting on it, his leg brushing against hers. "Regina has signed a memorandum of understanding with a few of the local municipalities." He gestured toward the mayor with his half full glass of champagne. "Looks as though we are a go."

Never accused as being a squealer, Emma shocked her boyfriend as she threw herself into his arms. "I'm proud of you."

***AAA***

The mirror in the restroom at the Storybrooke Courthouse was crowded as Ruby, Emma, and very pregnant Mary Margaret stood around it with hair and makeup brushes in hand. There were the occasional compliments, but more often than not it was Ruby dictating how they should wear their hair and how best to match their color palates.

"You look lovely, Emma," Mary Margaret said. Already the girls had been teasing her over the way she sounded like everyone's mother. She meddled. She prodded. She soothed. She encouraged. While it was a running joke, all the women appreciated it. "I think this dress was the right choice."

Emma glanced in the mirror again, the dress in question clinging in just the right way to her curves. While most of her clothes were dark with occasional splashes of color, the dress she wore was a soft shade of pale yellow that almost seemed like antique ivory. The empire waist of the dress cinched just under Emma's breasts and the full skirt brushed just above her knees. It was hardly her usual wardrobe for work, but Mary Margaret had found it in a vintage store and insisted it was perfect for the ceremony.

It took another few minutes before the three of them exited the small and cramped space and be greeted by a beaming David. After a quick kiss to his wife, David enveloped Emma in a hug to the echoes of Ruby and Mary Margaret telling him not to mess up the deputy's appearance. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered as Emma laughed at her friends' overreactions.

"I didn't do anything yet," she said in protest. "It's not like…"

"You are taking a chance. That is something," David insisted. His grip loosened and the slightly young woman slipped from his grip to smooth her dress and hair.

She scoffed at the compliment, letting her eyes dart around the small square hallway. "Is everyone here? Is he here?"

"Elsa and Anna just got here with Kris, Granny shut down the diner so she could be here. We've got the phones on forward so there won't be a missed call. John and Robin snagged front row seats along with Henry and Roland who are both thrilled to get to skip school for this. Katheryn's got the whole district attorney's office here. Graham got back last night and is somewhere around here with Tink. He was asking about Ruby by the way." Nobody missed the dramatic eye roll from the dark haired woman. "Leroy and the guys are taking bets on who the second person to cry will be."

"Second?" Emma queried, "And who would be the first?"

"Mary Margaret," David and Ruby said in unison to a groan from the pregnant teacher and a laugh from Emma.

"Sorry I asked. What about Killian?"

"Right here, love," Killian's voice rang out as he rounded the corner and almost knocked into some poor government worker who was carrying files. "My plane was late, as was that bloody taxi." Ignoring the whine of protests from Ruby and Mary Margaret, he swooped in and pulled Emma toward him, kissing her soundly before greeting the others.

"You and your dramatic entrances," she said, slipping her hand into his and squeezing. "I don't know why I put up with you."

His brow knitted together with a mock seriousness. "I would think I hadn't been gone that long. But if you should like, I'll enumerate each and every reason tonight." His lips skimmed over her temple and he tucked her into his side. "Now may we please start this blasted ceremony?"

Emma stood on the platform that was usually reserved for the elected officials meetings in chambers. Her hands were knotted behind her back as Regina read through a few details for the crowd that had assembled. The trick, she had decided was to not look out upon the crowd of people assembled, as her emotions might overwhelm her in such a moment. She was still the girl waiting on a family in so many ways, but as she stood there she realized she had created her own. She had friends and loved ones who were there to see her get a silly plaque and medal for her service to the city. They were there to celebrate after when she announced that she would be taking a detective position with the state police.

Killian sat between Henry and David, beaming with pride as the proclamation about her was read. He would tease her about it and hang it in the home they now shared. It would be next to his own certificate of completion of his law enforcement classes for water search and rescue. He called it their wall of fame with diplomas and certificates dotting it. There were pictures of them on vacations and trips. And there were photos from weddings and parties.

They had found the cottage together, having gone for a walk in the last remnants of winter with their hands entwined and talking about possible gifts for Henry's birthday. She had spotted it first, seeing the red and white for sale sign. Despite her more practical nature, Emma had already begun to dream of living there before she pointed it out to Killian. They had both fallen in love with it and without much fanfare or debate, moved in to it together without even bothering to tell anyone of their plans.

"I don't mind keeping you to myself," Killian had said on the Saturday when they found themselves surrounded by boxes and duplicates of many of their small appliances.

It had been that afternoon that she had found the ring, hidden amongst his things as though he had never imagined that she would look there. Perhaps he didn't know her so well, she thought, assuming she wouldn't take advantage of the opportunity to learn more about him. However, those thoughts were lost when she peaked inside the velvet box at the sapphire and diamond ring that seemed both traditional and unique at the same time.

But that had been a few weeks ago and he had given no indication that the ring was for her or that he had any inclination of giving it to her. Instead he spoke frequently of how he loved how things were between them, the easiness of their lives together. And she had not managed to do more than wonder about what he reaction would and should be to him.

Walking into the Rabbit Hole that night with the eyes of her friends and new co-workers upon her, she let her mind wander again. It was never an easy thing to introduce him to newcomers, as the word boyfriend still seemed inadequate. Her arm linked through his, they spoke to her new partner at the state police and learned of one of her first cases that she would be tackling.

"A lesser man might think you were looking to get away from me by changing jobs now that I have come on board," Killian said when they had a quiet moment. "I hope that is not the case."

She huffed out at the idea, slapping his shoulder playfully. "It is an opportunity I can't regret taking," she said. "I'll be a detective, something that I could never be with the sheriff's department."

"And I couldn't be prouder of you," he said, kissing the tip of her nose. "So long as I get to come home to you each night, I'll be wholly satisfied."

She did not manage to say another word to him as her phone chirped and David's message that he had taken Mary Margaret to the hospital was waiting for her. Sharing the message with Killian, she trotted off in search of Ruby to decide if they should go ahead to the hospital. The two women debate the options for a few minutes with Ruby deciding to go ahead and Emma see to her guests before joining her.

Most of the guests were understanding about the situation, sending congratulations and well wishes to the Nolans before hugging Emma and heading out into the damp spring evening. Only a few were remaining when Emma found Killian at the bar, nursing his drink and staring up at the silent television above it.

"I didn't mean to abandon you," she said, kissing his cheek before sitting down next to him on the empty stool. "It could be a long night knowing Mary Margaret."

"I'm sure she is prepared though," Killian said, his eyes flicking over to her. "You said she has been wanting this forever. I believe there are no two people more ready for the birth of little Emma Nolan."

"I think she's been making David do run throughs, mapping out the quickest ways to the hospital and even taking traffic patterns into consideration. There is nobody who plans like her." Reaching over, she grabbed his drink and took a sip before placing it back. "So do you want to head over there with me or should I drop you at the house first?"

He appeared to consider that for a moment, mulling over the option in his head. "I will go with you if you don't mind. I would like to offer my congratulations." There was no movement to match his words, not on either of their parts.

"You aren't moving," she pointed out.

He squinted with his smile, nervously scratching behind his ear as he watched her study him. "I was sitting here when I first saw you."

She looked up and down the bar at the mostly empty seats. "Yes, you were. I'm sorry I didn't notice you at first."

"I sat here for a while working up the nerve to speak to you, watching you reject a dozen blokes at least and assuming I'd be just another." He could remember the sickening feeling in his stomach, similar to the one he felt now. "I thought I would not be enough to capture your attention."

"You did though," she pointed out. "I couldn't even shake you even when I thought I wanted to."

"Do you still wish to?" he asked, suddenly reddening with some unspoken anxiety. "Do you ever wish…"

"I am glad that you spoke to me and even happier that you managed to help me fool Ruby," she said, her eyes softening her expression as the reason for his nervous demeanor hit her. "And I'll be equally as glad when you pull that ring out of your pocket."

He grunted as her words echoed in his head, the ring in his pocket feeling heavy. "You knew?"

"It's been in the drawer beside our bed since we moved in and before your training trip I noticed it was missing. So either we've been robbed by the most selective thieves in history or you have it on you." She shrugged. "I hope the reason is that you have it on you."

He gave her that flirtatiously lopsided smile as he pulled the ring out of his pocket and held it between his thumb and forefinger. "I was waiting for the perfect time, love," he said. "I hoped that if the moment was perfect you'd be less likely to run away from me."

Again her green eyes scanned the bar and again she lifted her shoulders in response. "I'd say that the place we first met makes for a perfect location."

"Aye," he said, reaching out hold her left hand in his. "So if I might ask. Would you do me the honor of being my wife, Emma Swan?"

She had been aware of his intention and mentally thought through how the moment might play out a dozen or so times. She'd imagined him making grand speeches or grander productions, but to hear the words just simply asked was more than she could handle at the moment. And as she struggled to catch her breath, she squeezed his hand in what she hoped was assurance that she was not about to run from him. He wanted an answer, a three letter answer if she could not manage anything more. Shakily, her left hand reached out and caressed his cheek, relishing the feeling of the stubble against her palm.

"Not to sound too needy, but an answer would be lovely about right now, darling."

Her mouth felt full of saw dust as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. He gladly accepted the gesture, the warmth of her inviting him in without reservation. As their lips parted and their foreheads touched, he breathed out the question one more time in a way that almost made her laugh. Did he really believe she had not heard him?

"Yes."

So this fic has been a labor of love for me since I have struggled to keep it going while my life has gone through so many changes. I hope you have enjoyed it and I thank you all again for your encouragement whether it was a favorite or a follow, a kudo or a comment, you have kept me going.

I had said I was going to take a bit of a break, but I have already started my next fic – Illusions of Another Life.