"And yet my heart wanders away,
My soul roams with the sea, the whales'
Home, wandering to the widest corners
Of the world, returning ravenous with desire."
~ The Seafarer

Killian sauntered down the sidewalk on a typical cold and grey morning, not particularly seeking a destination, but letting his legs mimic his current state of mind. Since they had returned from Neverland and Pan had been vanquished, life had returned to normal. Or at least as normal as it gets in Storybrooke.

Most people had a place and a purpose in this town and a life to return to, but alas, he did not. He was an outsider; a co-conspirator of Cora's, as much at home here as Greg and Tamara had been.

Now that the Crocodile had sacrificed himself, he didn't even have a point of vengeance to focus on. All was well in the world, and he found himself adrift without a course, lost at sea.

Not that he was planning on renewing his previous dark enterprises. He was a changed man; a man reminded that he could be a part of something; a man who remembered what it was like to be honorable. And dammit if those same honorable intentions weren't sharply biting at his heart the same way the icy breeze coming off the Maine waters were biting at his face.

Emma.

He tried not to think of her, he did. But everything in this blasted place reminded him of her, including why and how he ended up remaining here in the first place. She had set his compass straight for the first time in centuries and he would have happily devoted his time to courting her properly if it weren't for the promise he had made to Bae.

"For the sake of the boy," he had pledged, and he had meant it. He just didn't realize the price he would pay to keep that promise would be so costly. If there was another way to pay two debts with one coin, he hadn't figured it.

It seemed a worthy sacrifice for the young lad, and perhaps for Baelfire as well. Yes, Milah had made her own choice to abandon her son, but he certainly hadn't steered her away from the idea. Later, when Bae had been with him on his ship, he'd seen firsthand the damage he had caused and it pained him greatly. He knew directly what it felt like to be left behind, to be the victim of a broken home, and yet he'd let it happen to someone else in the same manner. Not again, and not to Henry, who he was growing increasingly fond of.

Killian stopped before a large rosebush overhanging someone's picket fence, eyeing it carefully. He let his fingers brush over a few tender buds before he closed his eyes and bent forward to smell one. Sweet perfume filled his nostrils, and he nodded his approval. Selecting the most lovely flower, he gripped it in his hand while he used his hook to cut it free. Lavender, representing enchantment. Yes, this would do nicely.

Just because he had promised to back off did not mean he would give up hope. Hope that Emma's heart was already too compromised to return to Bae. Hope that beyond all doubt or reason, her heart already belonged to another. And hope that perhaps one day the lad could still have a happy home - one that perchance would include a devilishly handsome pirate.

~/~

Emma shuffled towards the door of the loft, yawning as she stretched her arms. It had been another rough night's sleep, a sleep clouded by memories of enchanted jungles, dark hair, leather and rum. Now there was a problem she hadn't yet sorted, and one she would make no attempt to before strong coffee had been obtained.

Try as she might to return to life as usual in Storybrooke, there was a shadow hanging over her. A shadow that made her pulse race whispering things like, "When I win your heart, Emma," or "She has me now, she doesn't need something to remember me by."

Two men determined to be by her side, when she herself wasn't even sure she required someone in that position. "You're going to have to make a choice, Emma." "The only thing I have to choose is the best way to get my son back."

Well, she did have her son back, and she was so very grateful he was alive and well (and in the correct body). She had told her parents that the Savior doesn't get a day off, but it would appear she was wrong. And what was left to fill the void? Man problems.

Of course, lately Hook didn't seem as determined as he had been before. While Neal was quick to remind her that they had never had their lunch date, Hook hadn't even attempted to ask her out. Or make some cheesy innuendo-laden comment. Or even raise an eyebrow, come to think of it. And try as she might to deny it, she missed it. It's not everyday a man promises to win your heart, after all. But perhaps it was all just words, as fluffy and ruffled as the shirts he wore beneath his vests.

No. She knew that wasn't true. He had been speaking the truth when he made that vow, she knew it deep in her heart. And then there had been that kiss…

She hadn't much time to think about it in the days following, but even now her lips still burned at the memory, as she paused to touch them softly. But then there had been that run-in with the fairy...and other places in her body still burned at that memory.

On top of it all, there was the way Henry looked up at her and Neal as if all of his dreams were finally coming true. And a not-so-small part of her wanted to be able to give him that - a family, a real home with a mother and father who loved him. Neal would always be her first love, would always hold that special place in her heart, like it or not. But he had also broken her, left her alone without so much as a goodbye. Even though he was trying to make up for it now, she wasn't sure they could ever truly rekindle those flames.

Man problems. Just what she did not need.

Opening the door, she bent down to retrieve the newspaper. Either the paperboy was sidelining as a florist, or someone had been by this morning, and her ears were suddenly hot and tingly. A single lavender rose had been placed on top of the folded paper. Picking it up, she brought it to her nose and inhaled deeply. It smelled as good as it looked.

Turning, she walked towards the kitchen table, eyeing the flower suspiciously.

"Morning, Emma!" Mary Margaret walked into the kitchen wearing a way-too-cheerful grin on her face.

"Morning," Emma grumbled back.

"Ooh! A lavender rose. Someone must find you enchanting!" she chirped with another radiant smile.

Emma scoffed. "Someone left it on the doorstep."

"Must have been Neal. Aren't you meeting him for lunch today?"

Emma's heart lurched in her chest and she sighed in irritation. "Yeah, we're meeting for lunch at Granny's. It's no big deal, OK?"

Mary Margaret raised her eyebrows slightly as she tilted her head in that knowing way. "OK, if you say so! Coffee?"

"Yes, please." Emma groaned inwardly. Everyone seemed to have ideas about her love life, and it was only furthering her growing sense of suffocation. She sat down heavily at the table, unfolding the Storybrooke Daily Mirror and laying it out in front of her. She needed to be alone for a bit, get her head straight.

David walked in, kissing Mary Margaret on the cheek as he went to the fridge for something. "Good morning! How are my two favorite ladies today?"

"Emma has a secret admirer leaving her flowers on our doorstep!"

Emma rolled her eyes at her mother's sing-song tone, running a hand through her hair. "How do you even know it's for me? It's not like it has my name on it or anything!"

"Hmm. Well, I'm afraid I can't take credit. You know where I've been all morning," David said as he gave Mary Margaret a very pointed look. Yech. She really needed to get her own place.

"Hey, Dad, I think I'm going to go for a little walk before heading into the station today. Is that alright with you?"

David looked at her with concern. "Everything alright, Emma?"

"Yeah, sure. I just feel like stretching my legs, that's all." She gave him a half-hearted smile.

"I'm sure I can handle things at the station. It's been pretty quiet lately, which is nice." He smiled reassuringly at her.

"Great, thanks."

Some fresh air, that would do her good. Right?

~/~

Killian continued walking aimlessly, his head and heart still a whorl of emotion. Crossing through the park, he was making his way around the pond when he spotted something that made him stop in his tracks. Her long fair hair was spilling over her shoulders, brow furrowed in concentration as she sat with legs crossed upon a park bench, staring out over the water.

Dare he approach her? Every moment he spent with her just furthered his torment. Yet, there was something about the tense set of her shoulders that spoke of distress, and he immediately longed to hold her in his arms and soothe away whatever was troubling her. In the end, his legs made the decision for him, leading him where he most feared and most desperately wanted to go.

"Swan?"

She looked up in surprise, her eyes a mixture of fear and uncertainty.

"Hook."

"Mind if I join you?" he asked gently, taking the farthest position he could on the bench.

Emma sighed heavily, and he wondered if he'd made a mistake.

"You look vexed," he started, reaching inside his jacket pocket. "Rum?"

She eyed the proffered bottle, and seemed to consider it before she shook her head. The barest of smiles lit up her face.

"No, thanks. I still have to head into work, and I don't think the Sheriff is supposed to have rum on her breath."

"Suit yourself, then," he answered before taking a swig himself. He put the bottle down on the bench and retrieved the stopper, steadying the bottle with his hook as he used his hand to seal it up again. When he looked up, she was watching him, a curious expression on her face.

"That must be hard, only having one hand to work with."

He thought about making a lewd remark before he changed his mind, knowing full well the value of honesty in building rapport. "It is, at times. But I've had a long while to learn how to manage." He grinned at her then, and she smiled sympathetically.

"You're not usually out here staring at the scenery. Is everything alright?" he asked earnestly.

When she looked up, he could tell she was considering him, and he held his breath as he waited for her to answer.

She let out a heavy sigh before unfolding her legs from beneath her and kicking at the ground. "It's just...everything's back to normal now. I mean, it should be back to normal. But I feel like I have so many decisions to make, and sometimes it gets overwhelming."

She paused, and seemed to consider her next words. "Henry has his father now, and that's great. But now I have to share him with two other parents, and I'm just not used to it. And I love being with my parents and spending time with them, but the loft is starting to feel cramped and I should really figure out a place to live on my own. Then there's the Lost Boys to deal with. We need to find homes for them, and I have no idea how that's going to work, though I certainly know what it feels like to be a kid without a home. And then what happens next? I mean, we all just stay here in Storybrooke and live happily ever after? One big, magical, random family? Sometimes I just don't know where to go from here, you know? I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing. Have you ever felt lost like that?"

When she finally looked up at him, she immediately grew self conscious, tucking her hair behind her ears. His heart was bursting with pride, treasuring the fact that she had opened up to him, and he was afraid his eyes were revealing too much when she looked away again nervously.

"I certainly do, Swan. I spent two centuries seeking revenge for my hand and for my lost love, and now it's over, done with. The Crocodile has been vanquished at his own hand and I'm here in a strange new land without plot or purpose. It's as if the rug has been pulled out from under me," he finished with a flourish, gesturing about him.

She turned her body towards his, resting her arm on top of the bench. "Yeah, I guess that's true. I hadn't really thought about it that way before. You weren't part of the first curse, were you?" Her fingers barely skimmed the cuff of his jacket, and his eyes were immediately drawn to the contact.

"I'm afraid there's no alternate life for me to return to such as everyone else. I'm just a pirate in want of a crew."

She tilted her head at him, her eyes dancing over his face. "You should talk to David. See if there's anything you can help with at the station." She squeezed his wrist.

He tucked his tongue into his cheek, considering her suggestion. "I should do that, you're quite right. Perhaps I can be of use to someone in this town," he added, not bothering to hide his double meaning as he raised one eyebrow.

Before she could respond, however, he rose from the bench, turning to leave. "Alright, Swan. I'll leave you to it, then."

"Killian?" He tensed, a tremor coursing down his spine upon hearing his given name from her lips, then turned back slowly.

"Yes, love?" he almost whispered, struggling to find the words.

"Thank you. You know, for listening."

He smiled then, feeling sheepish as his fingers came to scratch behind his ear.

"Anytime," he said, adding a wink for good measure. Best to walk away now before he did something foolish like profess his undying love and devotion. So he turned away again, missing whatever expression she may have offered him in return, but feeling her stare hot on his back long after he left the park.

~/~

When it was time to meet up with Neal for lunch, he texted her to meet him at the pawn shop.

She opened the door with a jangle. "Hey."

"Oh, hey Ems." He smiled at her, looking up from some papers.

"I was just thinking about you, you know." She walked up to him at the counter.

"I was thinking about you, too," he said, grinning at her mischievously. She rolled her eyes.

"No, I mean. You weren't part of the curse, you came here on your own. So, any thoughts as to what you're going to do with yourself now that you're here?" she asked, crossing her arms over the counter.

Neal shrugged his shoulders. "Nah. I mean, my father was basically loaded, so I'm pretty much set for awhile. Plus, he had all this wicked cool stuff," he said, gesturing about the shop. "Who knows, maybe I'll run the shop again. It's like my legacy or something, right?" He grinned at her, and Emma swallowed thickly, wondering how he could be so nonchalant this soon after his father's death.

"Right. Well, are you hungry?" She shifted nervously, wondering who would see them together at Granny's.

"Yeah, let's do it! Let me just grab my keys."

Lunch started off somewhat awkward, but Neal was a funny guy, and pretty soon she found herself talking and laughing like she was with an old friend. He was the only one here who knew her when she was young, and it seemed like she was able to tap into that part of herself when she was around him. As she walked away smiling, feeling momentarily at ease, she found herself wondering what it all meant, and the heavy feeling in her chest returned.

On her walk back to the station, she was deep in concentration and not minding where she was going when she ran smack dab into Tinkerbell.

"Oh! Hey! Sorry about that."

"Emma! I've been meaning to talk to you," the fairy said, looking flustered.

"Oh, OK. What about?"

Tinkerbell cleared her throat, looking around nervously. "You remember that day Blue got killed by Pan's shadow? You were just pulling up to Granny's when we heard the scream."

"Yeah, I remember," Emma said flatly, attempting to hide her feelings on the matter.

"Well, I just wanted you to know that there was nothing going on between me and Hook. We had just been talking inside when we heard the scream, and nothing more." She smiled nervously, her eyes shifting about.

"Oh! OK. Well, I'm not sure why you think it matters to me. It's not like I own him or something," she said, trying to appear casual as she waved a hand in the air.

At this, Tink smiled a knowing smile, a twinkle lighting up her eyes. "You may not own all of him, but I think his heart is a different matter," she said, leaving Emma speechless, her mouth dropping open slightly.

"See you around, Emma!" she said, waving as she pranced away.

Wow. That was unexpected, Emma thought. And once again, someone was way too invested in her love life for her own comfort. Small towns were a breeding ground for gossip. Or maybe it was the whole fairy tale people thing. Either way, it was trouble with a capital T.

Once again, she felt suffocated and unsure. So much for her morning walk to clear her head.

When she returned to the station, her father was there waiting for her.

"Hey Emma, how was lunch?"

She hung her jacket up on the coat rack. "Good. Yeah, it was good."

David smiled softly, watching her. "Well, I have some good news for you."

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"I found someone to take on the Lost Boys. At least until we can find them all homes."

"Really? And what sucker would that be?" He had piqued her curiosity.

"Hook, actually. He just came by here and asked how he could help. I explained our situation with the boys and he agreed to let them live on the Jolly Roger for the time being. Said he could use a new crew to help get the ship back in shape."

Emma clucked her tongue, her eyebrows just about skimming her hairline. "Hmm. That's...that's great."

"It's rather big of him, really. I'd say I'm surprised, but ever since he saved my life in Neverland, I'm having trouble coming up with bad things to say about him." David shook his head softly.

Emma grinned at her father. "That's quite the budding bromance you've got going on there, Dad. Should I be telling Mom about this?" she asked with a raise of one eyebrow.

David rolled his eyes, hands on his hips. "Very funny, Emma." He changed the subject. "We've got some bedding to wash now that they've vacated the place. Want to give me a hand?"

"Sure," she said, still chuckling to herself.

Hook taking on a crew of misfit children? Now that was a development she hadn't expected. Almost as amusing as his newfound friendship with her father. She guessed he really had changed.