When Charming and Snow finally part, both of them heading their own directions, Emma feels her tears long dried. She's grateful Killian is still straining his eyes into the distance, trying to follow Charming's posture through the bushes. One look into those blue, pirate eyes and she knows he would read her like an open book right away. She diverts her gaze from the road straight to his chest. The closeness of his body makes it greatly difficult to keep her mind on the fact they straightened out what they had thrown off about the past. Trying to focus, Emma reaches for Killian's satchel and takes out Henry's book. She smiles widely seeing the stories showing up in it again.

"Look," she barely whispers, but because of their closeness, Hook hears her fine.

He turns to see the Charmings wedding story just appearing on the page. A heavy breath leaves his lungs, followed by a joyful chuckle.

"You made it, Swan," his soft voice reassures her that this is real after all. If this woman only knew how many thankful prayers to each god he just said in his mind.

Emma cannot resist averting her eyes from Killian's no more and looks at him gratefully. Just like she predicted, his eyes momentarily soften and fill up with understanding. However, Emma does not look away and maintains the eye contact. She lets him see how relieved she feels, how more than anything in the world she wants to go back home. Home that she feels is in Storybrooke. It is certainly not New York, Boston or wherever place the wind would lead her. Enchanted Forest was not her world.

Not recording how, Emma puts the book back in Killian's bag. Since their gazes met neither of them is able to break it. Emma is pretty sure she cannot hear any sound the forests makes but their breaths.

Killian clears his throat and quietly suggests, "We should get going."

Emma feels strange warmth still occupying her torso that does not let her move from her spot yet. The realization she could not have done all of this without the man before her hits her hard, second after second.

Finally, she lets these feelings, she kept thoroughly locked up since Neverland, to surface.

Puzzled Killian just watches her, waiting for any sign of move from her. He fears that him saying anything right now might scare her off and destroy the moment. His skin is screaming for her, burning him from inside, and he still waits.

When her right hand reaches the gap in the top of his shirt, he nearly hisses. Emma is the one who closes the distance between their lips, but it's Killian who grabs her sides in the meantime to meet their loins in a little bit too sharp manner.

She feels dizzy from breathing his characteristic scent, the feel of soft, silky material of his suit under her fingers, magnifying the fire burning her senses. Her right hand finds his shoulder, when the left one runs through his raven hair.

The way his tongue easily makes his way through her lips scares her and excites her at the same time. Emma feels like ice cube left in beating down sun. Deep down she knows she had never shared such passion and reliance with anyone. Her heart beats like crazy with anxiety and fear of betrayal any moment, yet she pushes herself into him more and deeper, wanting everything she denied herself for such bloody long time.

Somewhere along the way, they end up against one, solid tree. They don't break the kiss when Emma's back hits the corrugated cortex, nor they care they can be openly seen from the road if anyone was passing it now.

Thoughts rush through Emma's mind, yet she can only recognize a feeling of freedom bubbling up in every part of her body. The way they press their bodies against each other, no space between them, is not any kind of manifesto. They are no longer challenging each other. There is nothing left to prove, she thinks as she parts her legs slightly. Anything to feel him closer, to feed the growing need she has felt since last kiss they shared. It will not be soon before Emma is ready to admit to Killian how she never felt this with anyone in her life. What are the chances you would meet this one person in your lifetime that makes you feel like an addict for his lips, his touch, and his roughness? The lust feeling is undeniable and impossible to hide at this point.

For these couple of minutes Killian lives in the moment and becomes complete while making her whole. He does not know what kind of power he possesses to tear his lips from her swollen ones, only to find her lobe. He can hear the rattle coming from her carotid and somewhere deep inside finds himself proud for being the author to the current state of his princess.

She rests her chin on the side of his hair, as he nibbles down her neck, towards collarbone. Finally, he comes back for her lips, and goes in for last, long and loving kiss.

"Emma," Killian breathes against her lips. He is clearly waiting for her to say something, forasmuch she acted in spite of her "one-time thing" threat once more.

She averts from his face, his lips more importantly, to restore some of her straight thinking. Now is not yet the time to admit he was right about her parents and Storybrooke, she feels. Emma needs to go back there, set things straight with her family before she can finally acknowledge Killian Jones could be one of few good reasons for changing her mind. These triggers inside her keep using her attraction towards him in treacherous ways. Before anything else, she needs to sort out her issues cursorily at least. Only then, a conversation with him on a serious note can be possible. That is the basic outline in her head, but it has to go to the second plan for now.

"We're wasting time," Emma inequitably scolds him.

Killian has a strong urge to retort; after all, she is the one who kissed him. However, he steps back. His face twitches grimly, before it changes to a blank expression. He looks around in search of Marian's resting body among the grasses.

"Right," he clears his throat. "We don't want our sleeping beauty to wake up before we get back." With that, he turns around and walks over to the passed out woman.

A tiny voice in Emma's head screams for her to go after him. She suppresses this need with difficulty and waits a minute before following him into their makeshift camp.

Just bear here with me for a moment, Killian, she thinks when they drive back to the Dark One's castle, she and Marian hidden in the back of the cart while he leads the horse.

I will wait for you Emma, he vows and smiles under his nose, because she drills a hole in his back with her stare.

I have all the time in the world.