I apologize that it's taken so long to update this! Hopefully the extra long chapter will make up for it. This is supposed to be kind of a mini-fic and has already gone on for much longer than I anticipated (ahem, three shot) so there's one more chapter coming after this before I move on to some other stories! Enjoy and as always, all rights/characters belong to OUAT.

"I must say that when you said you wanted to warm up," he teased, placing a gentle kiss on the side of her head. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind."

Emma couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her, the sound drawing a weak ripple across the water as the bubbles surrounding them shifted. His chest was solid behind her and his arms kept her close as she relaxed into him. She wiggled slightly, causing his knees to bend and widen the space he'd left for her between his legs just a bit more. He let out a deep groan when she leaned back again, letting the small of her back rub against his naked torso.

"Was that-" she taunted, tilting her head to smile back at him. "-a complaint?"

"Not in the slightest, love," he replied as the scruff on his jaw grazed her shoulder. "More of a warning."

He nipped lightly at her ear, causing a tiny splash in the water immersing them and Emma's shoulders flinched with what could almost be called a giggle. A teasing growl escaped his lips as he pressed them to her cheek and the sigh she responded with was nothing short of total contentment. Killian's hands moved carefully, swiping the soap off her shoulders as he left a kiss against her hair. She was glad she opted to pull the wavy blonde strands up and out of the way before they'd sunk into the water, his warm breath on her neck causing a slight shiver. His touch moved into a firm, kneading pattern and Emma hummed in relaxation as she let him work the soreness out of her muscles with his deft fingers.

"Quite tense, Swan," he teased, kissing her neck sweetly. "You really should allow yourself more time to unwind, love. Happy to make that the 'doctor's orders' if it might convince you more easily."

"Ah, unwinding," she laughed, resuming their previous position of her back resting against his chest. "Is not what we're doing?"

"We're taking a bubble bath, Swan," he replied as he wrapped his wet arms around her. "Whether or not it's relaxing is perhaps a matter of personal preference."

"Is that your overly elegant way of telling me that vampires don't like bathtubs?"

Killian tickled her ribs with taunting fingertips and her jumpy reaction caused water to spill over the side. He eyed the slight mess before chuckling in defeat, his chest vibrating against her shoulder blades as he located her hand beneath the bubbles. He lifted his palm out of the water and hers followed instinctively, their combined touch explorative as their fingers linked. Killian took a silent second to examine their hands pressed so fittingly together, a task she'd seen him participate in quite often. She could feel his breath even out as he studied her thumb, stroking it lightly with the pad of his own.

She knew he needed these quiet moments. He needed to feel human - and allowing him that was the least she could do.

"I must say they aren't typically my favorite," he confessed quietly in her ear. "But I don't mind quite so much with you here."

"Well that's good to hear-" she told him, turning to loop her arms around his neck. "-because this is an amazing tub."

His eyes lingered on her lips as she moved closer, resting her palm against his cheek. The kiss they sank into seemed so much deeper than the tub and Emma felt his smile curve against her lips. The comfort she found in his happy reaction was unexplainable, but it relaxed her even more than the warm water they were both so cozily soaking in.

"I suppose I'll learn to appreciate it then," he grinned, swiping away the bubbles on her cheek. "Even if it means I have to endure the anomalous witchcraft that is this 'french vanilla' soap scent."

"Mmmm," she flirted, rolling her eyes a bit. "I do love when you speak so nineteenth century."

"Well," he shrugged with that typical smirk. "What's not to love?"

"Very true," Emma sighed, her teasing expression earning a quick second kiss. "Hard to resist such humility from the tall, dark, and handsome Dr. Jones."

"Actually-" he quipped, biting gently at her lower lip. "-I'm not that tall."

Her laugh seemed to be just the response he was looking for and Emma watched his mouth evolve into an achingly genuine smile, the white flash of his teeth making her skin tingle as it always had. She focused on them for a moment, wondering what it must be like to have fangs while still possessing the sort of self control he had. Of course, he'd had decades to perfect his willpower, but she's still seen him in the throes of walking that very thin line between desire and disaster.

"You sure have a keen sense of curiosity, don't you, love?"

"Hmmm?"

"Just commenting on your apparent oral fixation," he clarified, lifting the pad of her finger to his mouth and biting it lightly. "You….seem to analyze me rather often - not that I mind your studious staring."

"Hey - I don't stare," she countered with an unconvincing smile. "I guess I just….want to know more about you. I want to understand."

The way his eyes filled with such comfortable affection was encouraging and Emma closed her eyes as he left a slow trail of kisses down her neck to her shoulder. His fingertips danced down her spine in a suggestive pattern that made her skin vibrate and she had to wonder how his hands were capable of making her feel so secure.

"Your determined desire to comprehend is one of the many things I love about you, Emma Swan."

That impossible phrase still made her heart pound and she took a moment to remember the handful of times those words had passed between them over the course of the last few days. The endearing statement had been yelled, gasped, pleaded, and finally accepted - but they still hadn't rehashed the first time they'd both admitted their real feelings in the middle of that turbulent fight. She could still remember the haunted expression he'd worn as the bliss they'd been trying to build nearly collapsed at the hands of his forced and very incorrect argument.

You have to go.

You can't be here anymore.

I have to do the right thing for you.

It had been devastating to listen to the pain in his tone as he'd made those statements - the ones Emma was sure he'd chosen to convince himself of under some misguided fear. She hadn't dared approach the unaddressed side of that conversation since, opting to let herself appreciate their reconciled solace for a day or so instead. She was honestly surprised it had taken this long for that prodding logic to rear its inconvenient head and she bit her lip as she debated whether it was worth paying mind to it.

"You seem vexed," he said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her eyes. "What's on your mind, love?"

"You mean you don't already know?"

"I'm sure I could at the very least attempt to find out," he replied, smiling at her subtle teasing. "But I think this is one of those things I'd prefer to be done the old fashioned way - pardon the ironic phrasing."

Emma laughed, watching his eye color lighten just a bit. She'd seen so many versions of blue in his attentive gaze over the short time they'd known one another and she wondered for a moment just how many shades still remained undiscovered. There were seemingly endless layers to this immortal man and details she knew she'd never learn without asking - so perhaps asking was what she needed to continue to do.

"I just….the other night, when you told me about that man-" she started, her tone hesitant as her hands traced nonsense in the dark hair on his chest. "-who you….bit. It's just I - well, I saw the news and…."

"You want to know what happened to him."

Her wavering explanation had hung in the steam swirled air between them, waiting desperately for him to take over until he finally did. Emma nodded with visible relief as he tilted his head to the side, placing his palms on the tops of her thighs under the water and pulling her carefully into his lap. Her knees sat on opposite sides of his legs, the position oddly intimate as he let his soft fingertips explore her back. Emma let her own hands run lazily through his damp hair as he sighed, smiling weakly at her subtle encouragement.

She knew this conversation was one of uncharted waters - even if they were currently covered in the soapy, wet serenity of his cast iron clawfoot bathtub.

"He's not dead, love."

The words were soothing to hear, even if the reporter on the television screen had previously confirmed them already. There was something comforting about allowing Killian to tell her that. She hated the terminology, but as she watched uncertainty shift in his deep blue stare, Emma thought briefly of the idea that perhaps it takes a certain sort of monster to rid the world of something far worse. She didn't know much about this Walsh guy let alone what evil he or perhaps even others might be capable of, but she felt like she knew some of the deepest parts of the man looking back at her - and against all odds, there was one thing she was truly sure of.

If Killian Jones was technically some sort of monster, she didn't care because he was her monster - and she undoubtedly loved every part of him.

"He's still alive-" he rephrased, pausing to sigh cautiously. "-but hopefully gone as well."

"Gone?"

"Aye, it was after you fell asleep that night….I slipped out and went back to where I'd left him," he continued, running his hand over the thick stubble on his jaw. "It was….well, a little worse than I thought….but he was still breathing."

"You saved him then?"

"If you'd dare call it that, love," he replied, shame filling his expression. "I'm the reason he needed saving after all."

Emma pursed her lips at his remark and she watched his shoulders stiffen just the tiniest bit. The toll such a rash decision was taking on him was still very evident and while remorse was etched into his strained expression, regret was something she knew must be a bit more complicated in these particular circumstances. Reaching up to rest her hand on his cheek, Emma used a careful touch to bring his vision back to hers while his more recent words replayed in her head.

I will always choose you. I will always save you.

God, she loved him - and in the middle of their fragile conversation, she had to hope that was one thought he might be able to read.

"I gave him enough blood to keep him stable before I brought him to the hospital," he told her with a steady gaze. "I figured an animal bite would be an accepted cover story given his state. It's what the newspapers said….when I was in Italy and….I….that woman-"

Emma watched his words waver as he bit his lip, obviously warring with a dangerous memory. It took her focused mind a moment to fill in the missing words, but as he went a little more pale and his stare shifted into something haunted, she realized what he was referring to. Her hand caressed his cheek gently while she attempted to wish away the thought crossing his weary mind.

"I got him settled in a room at the end of the last hallway and asked one of the guards to cuff him to the bedside before I healed him any further," he narrated. "I wasn't sure what he remembered and I didn't think it wise to take any chances. So, I fed him just enough to bring him back to consciousness before I….did more investigating."

"Investigating? Did you question him?"

"Not exactly," he answered, furrowing his eyebrows. "It's just….it's this vampire thing. I was able to sort of alter his recollection a bit."

"Wait, did you-" Emma paused, tilting her head in confusion. "-brainwash him or something?"

"I'd say it's more like I hypnotized him," he clarified, his response calculated and cautious. "It's called compulsion - kind of like mind control. I can find out what happened and convince him otherwise by adjusting the mind's basic recollection."

"But how's that possible?"

"It takes a lot of practice," he said, tilting his head from side to side. "Steady eye contact and specific instruction for the most part. It's a way to open the mind on a deeper level - to make the person hear and believe nothing but what you're telling them. It feels natural to them, like it's simply thinking and remembering."

"Oh," she replied, her mind scattered as she tried to process his answers. "I guess I never thought….I mean, have you ever-"

"No, love - I've never compelled you," he assured her, repeating the promise he'd made her a while ago. "Your thoughts and memories are yours. I'd never take away your free will, Emma. In fact, compelling others is not something I do often because it's quite manipulative, but in a case like this….well, I-"

"I know," she nodded as she cut off his unnecessary justification with a subtle smile. "Anything to keep me safe."

He nodded weakly, forcing a smile as she brushed his damp hair off his forehead. The simple contact seemed to relax him and Emma felt her heart swell with the knowledge that her gentle touch was able to comfort him. Part of her wondered if he was reading her thoughts during conversations like this, but it felt more likely that he simply knew how to predict her. When it came to Killian Jones, she was a strangely willing open book.

"Once he came to, I was able to get him to focus enough to change his memory," he carried on, swallowing hard. "Kind of….helped him forget a few things."

"What did you say?"

"Basically what the news reported," he explained. "I told him he had been attacked by an animal, he'd been stitched up, and that he needed to leave Storybrooke as soon as he was discharged."

"Do you think it worked?"

"He checked out of the hospital that night and I saw to it that he crossed the town line," Killian assured her. "I made sure he didn't know who you were either so he's got no reason to return. Sadly, I believe that means you'll have to forfeit the price that was on his head."

"I'm not worried about that," she laughed, realizing just how little she'd thought about her lost paycheck. "There will be other idiots to incarcerate, Killian."

"Or you could just stay here with me-" he smirked as he leaned in for a slow kiss. "-and this bathtub you've mentioned you're rather fond of."

"I don't know if I dare," she teased. "Now that I know you've got some overly persuasive skills, who knows what you'd be able to talk me into."

"I can assure you that I don't need compulsion to entice you to stay," he quipped as he pinched playfully at her sides again. "Though you may need to learn that skill if you want me to remain in this water for much longer. It's getting a tad frosty, love."

"Come on then," she grinned, sliding back off his lap. "I'd hate for you to get any more wrinkly than you already are, old man."

"Hey, I said it's a little cold," he responded as he pulled her back into his space. "Plus, old and wise are quite different traits, love."

"Oh, really?"

"Aye, Swan," he said, nuzzling her nose as he shifted beneath her. "I think we both know I'm quite….knowledgeable."

Emma felt her spine tingle as his palm pressed flat against her lower back, her body starting to burn as he threaded his fingers through her loosely pinned up hair. His mouth found hers with a fiery effort, his lips and gently nipping teeth tempting her submissive response instantly. Hearing the water ripple around them, Emma encircled her arms around his neck as his fingertips traced her back in a pattern that complimented the convincing kiss. The competitive side of her wanted to pull away, but as his hips rutted up lightly into hers and her breath hitched, it was nearly impossible to deny that this man knew exactly what he was doing. She was still in a haze when he shoved her carefully off his lap, the water sloshing over the tub's edges as he stood up with a smirk.

"What the hell-" she grinned, laughing when he flipped suds her direction. "-are you doing?"

"Just going to grab some champagne, love," he quipped, stepping out onto the somewhat already wet rug. "If you're going to hold me hostage in that tub, I've got the feeling we're going to need it."

She watched the water roll down his body, trails of soapy bubbles sticking to his wet skin. She couldn't help but admire the way his damp hair stuck up in several directions, flipping out at his ears while his cheeks flushed and his eyes filled with that specific deviance only he could exude. With a slight shiver, he swiped a few bubbles off his bicep and torso, letting the moisture linger on the rest of his flesh in a tempting manner. The devilish grin he threw her before sauntering toward the doorway in his drenched, sudsy, naked glory told her he knew just how to make her mind wander.

"You're dripping-" she told him, biting her lip as she leaned over the tub. "-and very indecent, Dr. Jones."

"Aye, but you know, love," he countered, foregoing the towel hanging on the wall. "Something tells me you prefer me this way."

Emma felt her jaw drop fractionally as he turned, humming softly and swaying his bare hips as he left the bathroom. She let her eyes hang on the long lines of his shoulder blades and the sculpted view of his back, noticing the way his muscular physique looked even better when wet. It wasn't really a secret that she was a fan of every single part of him.

Apparently even the soapy ones, she mused with a quiet laugh.

"You're adorable when you pout, love."

Emma glared playfully at him over her shoulder, her fingers still skimming the bookshelf as took a second to admire him in such a relaxed state. She'd been navigating the titles of leatherbound texts lining the walls of his library for an hour or so while he propped his feet up to read the newspaper - an activity that she'd assured him fit well with his archaic persona. He'd given her his typical handsomely sly smirk and she'd nearly dropped the copy of Pride and Prejudice she was examining, a reaction that would have truly been a shame since it was a first edition.

"I am not pouting," she countered, trying to keep a straight face. "I'm snooping. Big difference."

"Well, that's one way to injure a man's ego," he teased as he set the sports section down on his lap. "Here I was thinking you were going to be a bit sad about us both having separate obligations to attend to today."

The reminder was unpleasant and Emma tried not to scowl as she once again acknowledged the fact that he'd be heading back to work in a few hours. She hadn't left his house yet, opting to spend nearly every second at his side or lost in his navy blue and oh so attentive stare. It was a quickly learned state of normal and one she certainly didn't want to take for granted.

"I mean, you're about to trade all of this-" he smirked, gesturing to their surroundings. "-for some citizen small talk and mediocre libations."

"I'm not sure if you're trying to remind me I need to leave soon or if you're just rubbing it in," she scowled with a sigh. "But they both kinda suck."

"Perhaps I'm just a bit sullen that I won't get to accompany you," he replied as he rose and wandered toward her. "Founder's Day is quite the tradition, Swan, and I'd be a hell of a date."

She sighed softly, rolling her eyes at him as his hands found her waist. She'd learned of this little ritual celebration a few months earlier and while the rest of the town had been buzzing with preparations, she'd been far too preoccupied with the supernatural circumstances surrounding her daily life to pay too much attention.

"Can't you just be a normal boyfriend who encourages me to enjoy a normal town celebration in a….somewhat normal way?"

"I'd rather ploy you with promiscuous promises and convince you to stay here and wait for my return," he grinned as she swayed in his embrace. "But I'm confident you'll survive civilization without me for a few hours."

"I suppose I'll have to since there are lives that need saving," she sighed, letting his lips take her mind off the impending day. "Have you been before though?"

"Aye, a few times," he nodded, peering back over his shoulder. "In fact…."

He turned to scan the wooden surface holding the endless array of novels, his strong hand sweeping lightly along the book spines until he reached the end. He looked handsomely casual in the low light of the room - all bare feet and faded jeans paired with that crisp white t-shirt he usually wore under his surgery scrubs. Emma observed the way he moved, her own eyes analyzing the focus of his intense stare and the way his tongue swiped at the corners of his mouth as he studied items before him. He'd moved past the literature to where a metal box sat, pushed to the back of the shelf and partially hidden. He flipped the lid and the hinges squeaked softly as she watched him retrieve what looked like an old photograph.

"A bit of early nostalgia," he said, glancing down at the wrinkled picture before he turned it to her line of vision. "Plus, a little proof of what a snappy dresser I've always been."

Emma had to laugh in astonishment as she took the flimsy piece of his past between her fingertips. The photograph was faded and bent slightly, but it didn't take her long to discern who the people were. There was a woman, slender and simple with long dark hair set in lush curls that hung down her shoulders. She was beautiful with her warm smile and pale lace adorned dress. Emma let her gaze travel to the other two subjects in the picture, her finger following the path of her vision as she pressed down lightly. Tears filled her eyes as her smile curved upward, her mouth parting in some sense of disbelief.

It was him - well, a much younger version of him. He couldn't have been more than five or six at the time, but she knew the familiar little boy captured in the film. She studied the details carefully, feeling his eyes on her as she did so. He had that same wild dark hair, same sweet smile, and same bright eyes - a pair that would have shown up a bold blue if the picture would have had the privilege of printing in color. He wore a crisp buttoned shirt and pressed shorts, complete with suspenders and black shoes. The outfit complimented that of the lad next to him - a boy roughly four or five years older that had to be Liam. He was wearing a tweed cap over his curly hairy, one that definitely looked too big for his little brother.

They looked so happy and complete, even though he'd mentioned that his young life hadn't exactly been that way. Her heart sank a little as she realized this picture had probably been taken not long before his mother passed away. She hoped he hadn't seen the emotion rolling slowly down her cheek, but the impact of such a shared memory hit her harder than she imagined it could.

It was proof that even as supernatural as he'd become, he was real. He'd been human once. To her, he was all but human now.

"Killian, this is…."

"My mother and Liam-" he said softly, answering the question she couldn't seem to ask. "-and that's me. Founder's Day back in 1903 if I recall correctly. It was just after we'd moved into the new house. This house."

"It's so….it's a beautiful picture," she smiled, looking up to meet his eyes. "I can't believe you still have it after all these years."

"There are a few things I've managed to hold onto," he replied, smirking when her hand fell subconsciously to the necklace she was wearing. "But you can't blame me for keeping it close - I did look rather smashing after all."

"Yeah, yeah - you were adorable," she agreed, feigning annoyance. "Almost as cute as you are now."

"Mmmm," he growled with a gentle kiss. "Almost."

"So the fact that you looked handsome in suspenders a zillion years ago is supposed to convince me that enduring society for some annual city celebration won't be that bad?"

"Was my distraction truly so transparent, love?"

"Maybe I'm just skilled at reading you," she retorted, nuzzling his nose. "But fine - I'll go. Just don't try to require that I actually enjoy it."

"Oh, come on," he laughed, tucking a piece of wavy hair behind her ear as he locked his eyes onto hers. "The world seems full of good men, love - even if there are monsters in it."

"Ugh," she groaned, realizing where he's swiped that line from. "Whatever you say, Dracula."

Emma brushed her hands down the fabric of her dress as she walked, the dark material feeling lush and pleasantly smooth under her fingertips. She moved carefully, trying her best to balance on the black heels she'd thought would be a good idea for some reason. She was instantly regretting it as she noticed the uphill walkway to the mayoral mansion's lavish backyard.

She'd almost opted to bail on the annual Founder's Day party, knowing full well that the scene might be slightly awkward for a Storybrooke transplant and recognizing the fact that exploring the vast rooms of Killian's home while he was finishing up at the hospital was a far more intriguing idea. Her cheeks had reddened at the thought of pulling on one of his button downs and wandering the library or snuggling up against the couch cushions until he returned to her with what would be very anxious eyes. He had encouraged her to go though and alongside that prodding, she was also attending to appease the only other acquaintance she had in their sleepy little town - her very sociable neighbor and the orchestrator of the whole event, Ruby Lucas.

They'd met when Emma rented out the house just adjacent to the one owned by the city's charismatic event planner. She was nice enough and lacked the unnecessary suspicion that others seemed to exude at times regarding a mysterious blonde from out of town - or 'Little Miss I'm-On-A-Mission' as Ruby had taken to calling her. Over the time Emma had taken up residence on their shared street in the suburbs, they'd become some sort of friends - so much so that Ruby had insisted she stop by the summer celebration held at the Mills elaborate residence. Emma had bit her tongue at the offer, her mind reeling with excuses she couldn't seem to use. She'd done a great job of laying low and maintaining a quiet profile while tracking down her targets, but the look of hope in the dark haired girl's eyes caused her to wonder if making a few alliances within city limits might be amiable.

After all, she'd struck up quite the connection with a local emergency room doctor who seemed to be well versed in the social relations of a small town. Perhaps it couldn't hurt to branch out and blend in a bit - at least while said doctor was preoccupied.

Her acquiesce to attending had nearly been fractured when she'd discovered that this particular occasion required formal attire. Storybrooke wasn't home to many shops that could provide her with any last minute elegant clothing and her own wardrobe was made up of more leather jackets than lace gowns. She had been rummaging around in her closet for what felt like hours when she'd heard the chime of her doorbell. Shortly after sharing some confusing stares and her signature with the postal worker, she'd located the answer to her little debacle inside a lined box containing a beautiful black chiffon dress. She'd let out a quiet gasp at the sight of the material, running her fingers over it as she opened the card set on top.

Just in case you're trying to use the 'nothing to wear' excuse for the Founder's Party. I'm assuming you'll cut quite the figure in this, love. I'll be over after work to peel you out of it should you need me to. See you soon, Swan.

Love, Killian

He always knew just what to say to make her melt and blush simultaneously - it was only fitting that he knew just what to write as well.

She'd been a little unsure about the gown at first, the soft material thin between her fingers as she summoned the bravery to put it on. It took a moment to navigate the silky garment, but as she moved to stand in front of the mirror, Emma wondered just how he'd known such a dress would fit perfectly. It was deep blue - a shade that matched the predatory hue of his eyes and the darkness they carried when he was contemplating the dozens of ways he could devour her. It trailed to the ground with a well hidden slit on one side that still allowed the fabric to flow freely. The straps were thick and doubled with one meant to hang off each shoulder. The front was cut low but properly, plunging just enough that she wondered if she was going to be able to pull the whole look off.

Well, she was sure as hell going to try.

Emma reached the top of the path much quicker than expected and she exhaled quietly, thanking her lucky stars that she'd retained some ability when it came to traveling in such challenging shoes even though she rarely did it anymore. She looked out over the manicured lawn, taking in the details of the party as she pondered just where she might find Ruby. The yard was immensely spacious, the recently cut grass stretching all the way back to the edge of a rather large pond. Several large willow trees growing off to the sides provided a makeshift canopy where twinkle lights had been strung, creating a soft glow around the entire space. The sound of violins filled the air, beckoning guests toward the silk tablecloths and expertly crafted flower arrangements. It was a picturesque scene - and one that nearly made her want to bolt.

"Emma! You're here!"

The voice called to her from across the yard, grabbing her attention as she was pondering the best possible escape route. She turned to face the shouted greeting and quickly landed on the sight of her outgoing friend, clad in a long red gown and briskly making her way across the decorated space while yelling something about floral display charts to the workers behind her.

"I'm so glad you made it," Ruby said with a smile, hugging her tightly while looking back toward the house. "You look amazing! Where did you get your….oh, god - hold on. I just need to-"

"Go ahead," Emma laughed, nodding back toward the party. "I'll get a drink and catch up with you in a bit."

"Ugh - thanks, Em," she sighed as she rolled her eyes. "Champagne and wine at the bar. I'll find you once I'm done reminding the servers that empty glasses are extremely tacky."

Emma smirked to herself as she watched Ruby hustle back down toward the tables with a voice that could command an army. She listened to the echo of the main street clock tower, the dull chime sounding six times. She took a deep breath as the material of her dress moved along the concrete walkway, heading toward the festivities in pursuit of some liquid courage.

As she glided across the grass, Emma found herself contemplating the cause for a gathering like this. She knew Founder's Day was a prominent local event every year and Ruby's tellings of past celebrations stretched well beyond either of their lifetimes, but she had to wonder about the decades that had gone by.

Exactly how many of these parties had Killian been around for?

She tried to envision him at this type of yearly soirée as she approached the bar, ordering a tall glass of whatever bottle of red wine was easiest for the bartender to reach for. Letting her fingers curl around the stem of her drink, she glanced back toward the growing population of the party with a simple desire.

She wished he was there - and for a second, she almost believed she'd been granted that want. The voice interrupting her hopeful moment, however, didn't sound at all like the one belonging to the man who'd kissed her goodbye with the whispered promise of 'later' only a few hours earlier.

"Too bad you appear to prefer the dark rather than the light. Last year was very favorable for Sauvignon blanc and the labels they've sprung for here are quite impressive."

A bit startled, Emma spun around quickly to find out who was commenting on her choice of alcohol only to spill a bit of it carefully enough to miss the fabric of her dark dress. She cursed quietly as she turned toward the bartender helplessly, but not before she lifted her eyes to meet the curious ones of the man who now looked quite apologetic. She didn't recognize his wild blonde hair or bright blue eyes, but something about him seemed sweet rather than sinister.

"Sorry for that," he said with a humble half smile, offering a napkin before she could find one. "I suppose it doesn't matter what color the wine is if it's on the ground instead of in the glass."

"Oh - no, it's fine," she replied, shaking her head. "It will teach me to be more careful I guess - or at the very least, discourage me from ordering red while in formalwear."

"A lesson we all learn one way or another perhaps," he laughed as he tilted his glass her direction. "I don't know that we've met. I'm Victor Whale - Ruby's date. You two know each other I believe?"

"Yeah, we do," Emma nodded, trying to recall whether they'd been previously introduced or not. "I'm-"

"Emma Swan," he finished for her with a grin. "She's mentioned you before - although I'm usually playing lightning catch up with that woman after a long night at the hospital so I'm glad I managed to remember your name."

The hospital - now that was a place she'd recently come well acquainted with. Her memory started to spin as she thought back through the times Killian had mentioned his job or the people who worked alongside him. Her eyes widened as she remembered the remark he'd once made mid scandalous breakfast - a recollection that was quite impressive since she had been so temptingly distracted in that instance.

"You work in the lab there, right?"

"I do - phlebotomy on the first floor," he nodded, lifting an eyebrow. "Is it fair to say there's only a few people you know who could confirm that fact?"

Oh shit, Emma thought as she took a quick swallow from her glass. He totally knew.

"Umm, well," she stammered. "I guess I-"

"It's okay, Emma," he assured her, smiling kindly. "Your secret is safe with me. I know he's….different, but….Killian's a good man. He's not at all what you'd expect when you hear….that word."

"Yeah," she sighed, thinking quietly of the vampire who'd shattered the stereotype. "I know."

"Kind of a pleasant surprise I guess," he smiled. "He saved you, right? In the alley?"

"He did," Emma answered, biting her lip. "He's….got a way with that I guess. Must be the doctor thing."

"He's a skilled physician - that's for sure. I've known him and about his condition for a long time," Victor told her, deepening his stare. "So I suppose the only caution I'd offer you is the same one I gave him."

"Oh," Emma replied, her voice shaky. "Which is?"

"Merely to be aware that the man in question-" a smooth voice interrupted. "-looks devilishly handsome in a tuxedo."

Surprise filled her curious gaze at the sound of that rough accent and Emma couldn't really help the grin that formed on her lips as she turned to glance over her shoulder. Of course he'd show up - and of course he'd look completely beyond the definition of dashing doctor turned potential date.

"Killian," Victor greeted, holding out a hand to shake. "Great to see you, mate. I didn't think you'd make it with all the surgeries they've had stacked at the hospital today."

He looked almost dangerous as he moved toward them with that near swagger, dressed to the nines in a flawless dark wool suit complete with the pressed white shirt beneath. His bow tie was expertly tied but the tiniest bit crooked and Emma pressed her lips together, wondering if such a small detail was an accident or a subtle act of rebellion. His shoes were pitch black with a muted sheen that made her think they might be new and the idea settled on her that perhaps he'd initially planned on attending this outing before his hospital schedule prevented it - or perhaps he'd always intended on showing up regardless. Crafty bastard, she thought silently as she bit her lip.

"Ah, well," he finally responded, adjusting his cuffs as he approached. "I suppose sometimes things just have a way of working out."

Emma felt her lips part as Killian offered a quick wink before grasping the other man's extended palm. They engaged in a brief handshake, Killian clapping Victor's shoulder as they exchanged a few work related words. She watched quietly, taking notice once again of just how socially skilled he was when it came to friendly conversation. She wondered how he was able to shift what was nearly a very awkward moment into something so suave and simple.

Years of practice, she mused with a slight grin as Ruby yelled for her date from a few paces away.

"Well, it appears as if I'm needed," Victor grumbled, offering them a knowing smile. "So I'll leave you both to it. Pleasure meeting you, Emma."

"Oh - yeah," she responded, a bit shaken. "You too."

"Always great to see you, Whale," Killian nodded, smirking as she man walked across the grass before turning back to face her. "But you, Emma Swan…."

"Hmmm," she played along as she absorbed his presence. "Me?"

"Yes, you," he grinned salaciously, leaning a little closer. "I have crossed oceans of time to find you."

"Oh, wow," Emma laughed as she realized where his cheesy line had come from. "I'm earning quotes from the movie now, huh?"

"Let's just say that the options on the television in the doctor's lounge-" he quipped with every ounce of charm he possessed. "-happen to be very limited."

Emma was suddenly glad she'd opted to keep her hair down, letting it fall over her shoulders in loose waves. It was the only barrier between his warm breath and her neck as he circled her, resting his touch on her hip as he leaned toward the bar to order something on the rocks. The slow caress of his fingertips on her side made it a little difficult to focus on what he was saying to the bartender.

Her eyes dropped down to where his hand held her waist, noticing the way his action seemed to protect yet appreciate at the same time. The feel of his insistence wasn't overpowering the way it had been with other men who'd wandered in and out of her life. Killian's touch was so extraordinarily different. It was like she'd been freezing for years and he was the burning flame, unexpected but determined to make her melt.

"So, darling," he said softly, dissolving her distracted thought as his palm pressed against her lower back while he stood at her side. "Having fun yet?"

"I suppose it's not so bad," she answered, turning to face him. "Though I didn't know you'd be joining me."

"What can I say? I get a distressed call from a fair maiden and I'm on the spot."

"I'm not in distress-" Emma told him, cocking her head to the side. "-and I don't remember calling you, Dr. Jones."

"Perhaps you didn't have to," he retorted with a raised eyebrow. "At least, not by way of your cell phone."

Realization set in as she picked up what he was referring to and her pulse quickened as she pondered that sixth sense he had in regard to her well being. It was surprising that her uneasiness had caught his attention, especially because she'd thought she'd been hiding it rather well. He gave her a careful smirk, one that seemed to wonder if she was happy he'd shown up. There was something freeing about this wordless manner they were able to use to communicate on a level she still didn't fully understand. There was always such clear understanding in the way he looked at her whether it was a fearful gaze wanting to make sure she was alright or a heated stare cloaked in deep desire.

"Well then, for what it's worth - thank you for 'saving' me," she offered, pressing her teeth into her lower lip. "Are you just stopping by to pay your social respects and then going back to healing the hurt?"

"Actually no," he confessed, watching the motion of her mouth very carefully. "I was able to shift some things around and found another resident to cover for me. I'm afraid you're going to be stuck with me all night, Swan."

"Hmmm," she flirted. "Is that a promise?"

"We both know I tend to prefer those when it comes to you, love."

The reply made her skin tingle, her grin halted briefly when she noticed how they'd moved into one another's space almost too intimately. The party was abuzz with classical music and throes of people far too engrossed in conversation for anyone to pay mind to the predatory game they'd begun to play, but they had never really discussed the public nature of their relationship. He quickly paid mind to that fact as well and pulled back fractionally, the heat still simmering between them. The look in his bright blue eyes seemed slightly sad and she stowed the idea of them having that discussion later.

In the meantime, there was nothing wrong with them enjoying one another's casual company as he guided her through the timeless traditions of their town. The tempo of the various instruments a short distance away made his mouth curve upward suspiciously as he held out a steady hand, taking her attention off the mass movement of the party's population toward the open space near the twinkling lights.

"Well," he challenged, his gaze full of fire and that predictable affection. "It would be rude not to dance."

Ah, so that's what this was. Emma tried to squander the panic filling her body at the mention of such a thing and he lifted an eyebrow in question.

"I'm guessing it's tradition?"

"It is," he nodded, his eyes refusing to waver. "If you'd like to, of course."

"Are you saying that you know how to do-" she inquired, as he intertwined her nervous fingers with his before walking in the appropriate direction. "-whatever this….is?"

"It's called a waltz," he explained as he twirled her halfway before lifting her hands to proper position with expert concentration. "There's only one rule."

"Oh?"

"Aye," he nodded, squeezing her waist teasingly as his spreading smile offered a quick flash of his teeth. "Pick a partner who knows what he's doing."

The world around them slowed as it often did, shifting to a surreal blur as his sweet stare aligned with hers. He seemed so human in these moments - ones where he held a soft, simply happy expression that made her feel more than just loved.

She felt safe and certain. She felt protected and passionately possessed. She felt wanted in an unconditional way that still didn't seem real, but it was - just as he was.

"I've yet to mention that you look stunning, Swan," he complimented as he stepped forward, leading her in an unknown pattern. "If it isn't obvious."

"Well, I've yet to thank you-" she smiled, her breath short and stuttering. "-for the dress. You didn't have to bribe me, you know."

"Aye, but I wanted to," he nodded. "It's not just the dress though, love. You are a vision."

The sincerity behind such a simple statement was startling. Emma was sure she'd never known someone who could make her feel as beautiful as he did. It wasn't just his words - it was that look of pure adoration he gave to only her. It was that easy, uncomplicated look that reminded her of the only thing she really needed to know.

He loved her - and he was happy to be doing so.

Killian's grin widened as he spun her in a slow circle, his arm extending out before he pulled her close again. She studied his guiding grip and took the steps necessary to continue their circular pattern, only looking up once their almost predictable rhythm resumed. He chuckled softly, undoubtedly amused by her serious expression as his feet lead her the right direction.

"Watch the mocking," she whispered. "I think I'm actually getting the hang of this."

"Not mocking you, Swan," he replied with a raised eyebrow. "Just admiring the fact that you appear to be a natural."

She had to roll her eyes at his praise, allowing him to hum softly when her hand braced his shoulder with a taunting pinch. He wiggled slightly before tightening his hold on her waist, his eyes telling her to behave while the path of his tongue across his lip begged her not to. She nearly stumbled over her newly skilled feet when his mouth lifted into that wicked curve, her magnetic stare knowing just what that subtle shift meant as she listened to the song's final notes.

"Hey - come with me," he said softly, his voice thick and ragged as the surrounding people clapped in appreciation of the musicians. "Quickly, love."

Emma felt her nerves spike fractionally as he kissed her hand before gripping it with an intent she certainly recognized. She could almost feel the desire in his fingertips, his flesh burning as he guided her in a weaving manner through the crowd of people. It was fortunate that he was the one leading them seeing as she was so distracted by the way his broad shoulders looked in that tailored suit and the firm clenching of his jaw as his eyes darkened. The sun was nearing its setting place and the way the dwindling rays toyed with the horizon beckoned them towards the towering trees just beyond the pond. The impending shadows didn't do much to hide the white trunks of the tall, crisscrossing birches as they paused just at the edge of the woods.

"Killian, where are-"

Her words were unfinished as his mouth slammed into hers, the fluid motion accompanied by his tentative touch on her cheek and his vibrating growl against her lips. The teasing sound coaxed her mouth open quickly, his tongue teasing as her bottom lip became the victim of his gentle tugging teeth. Emma's hands moved instinctively, brushing against his chest and rising up to his collar with a firm grip. She could feel his breath hitch beneath her anxious hands as he deepened the kiss, the well practiced movement of his mouth bringing forth that familiar ache.

The thought that it hadn't been like this since they'd patched things up crossed her hazy mind. There was always some sort of bold passion behind the way Killian Jones loved her, but this - this was different.

This was want - pure, uninhibited, lustful hunger. She didn't realize just how much she'd missed it until he pulled her tight against him, his thin pants rubbing slickly against the sheer material of her dress. Emma felt the desire increase to absolute need when his hand lowered, tangling in the the long slit of the skirt while he lifted her thigh out from under the fabric to rest at his hip.

"Emma," he groaned, his voice quiet as his needy gaze flickered back toward the party they'd left behind. "Hold onto me, love."

She nodded, kissing him once more as she gripped the sides of his suit coat. The world moved around her in a rapid blur and he carried them both at that unreal speed to an open grove of trees well out of prying eyesight of citizens. Landing on the soft ground, Emma noticed the danger lurking in his glare and the blaze it seemed to ignite held made her hands instantly anxious to explore.

"Bloody gorgeous," he mumbled, his mouth tracing her neck down to where the one strap rested on her shoulder. "It's unfair, Swan."

"What….oh….what is?"

"To torment a man like this," he continued, testing her collarbone with his teeth. "To make me desperate for you when we're in no location for such thoughts."

"I'm pretty sure this dress-" she breathed between kisses, her voice heaving as she caressed his scalp. "-was your idea."

"Not the gown, love," he reminded her. "Just you, Emma. I want you."

The admission made her melt, his seductive accent burning through her as the dress straps slid off her shoulders. His hot breath fell across her flushed skin, moving in an arousing trail from her jaw to the fabric covering her breasts. He took the material carefully in his teeth, dragging it down just enough to notice the necklace resting low and glistening in the fading daylight. His smile was subtle as he eyed the jewelry, his reaction weighing heavy on her emotions as he leaned forward to continue his well traveled path of kisses.

"I love you, Emma Swan," he whispered, lifting his lips back to hers with a simple affection she could easily get lost in. "Let me show you."

"Mmmm," she grinned with a quick peck against his jaw. "Here?"

"Aye," he confirmed, navigating them toward one of the thicker trees. "I don't want to wait, love. I miss you - need to feel you."

Her fingers raked through his dark, disorderly hair as she smiled. His words were constantly so many things - charming, direct, and ultimately one thousand percent honest. Denying what they were both so clearly burning for wasn't an option - even if giving in meant she was about to let him ravish her in the middle of the woods at dusk.

"These are going to have to go then," she told him, pulling on his black belt and the button below it. "As well as the rest of your dashing attire, Dr. Jones."

"That can somewhat be managed," he grinned, trying to stabilize his legs as she shoved his thick jacket off his strong shoulders. "Though this garment of yours is going to be a little trickier to navigate."

"I'm confident you'll figure something out," she gasped, her jaw dropping as he nibbled her pulse. "Just let me get-"

His hands were fast and firm, supporting her against one of the larger trees before gripping her dress and lifting it to bunch the fabric loosely around her waist. A cold brush of air sparked a shiver across her exposed thighs and she fumbled with the flimsy fastening of his tuxedo pants. His mouth was insistent, rendering her uncoordinated fingers useless as he took over the task. Feeling his teeth graze the throbbing vein on her neck, Emma flinched slightly as her grip relocated to his collar. She mercilessly yanked his shirt open, tearing a feral groan from his tongue. Letting her hazy eyes focus on the way his breathless expression silhouetted him against the growing darkness, Emma was almost positive she'd never seen him quite so wrecked.

God, he was beautiful - every single, supernatural piece of him.

"Emma," he growled, sucking a dark mark just below her collarbone. "Let me have you, love."

"Yes," she moaned, her head flush against the tree bark as he caressed her thigh. "Please, Killian…."

His motion was swift as he shoved his pants down just far enough, bracing her between the white tree truck and his rigid body. Emma wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hold as he gripped her skirt harder, keeping it between his tense fingers as his hips rutted against hers. Feeling his hard length firmly rubbing along her thigh, Emma let out a shaky breath in anticipation. Her nails dug gently into his scalp as he pushed inside and the deep sound emanating from his throat made her entire body vibrate with want.

"Look at me, darling," he coaxed, thrusting upward gently. "Emma…."

Somehow, Emma managed to center her vision on him as he instructed. She watched his tongue trace the points of his exposed fangs quickly, the veins in his face pulsing dark and menacing as he began that steady motion of back and forth. There was something so wickedly intoxicating about him in moments like this, even with the dense wood of the tree digging into her shoulder blades. His eyes were that hypnotic blue, edged with a deepness that sent chills down her spine. Keep one hand buried in his thick scalp, she nodded quickly as he sank further with a low moan.

"Oh, god…."

"Bloody hell, love," he countered as he widened his stance while she bore down on him. "So….damn….beautiful, Swan."

Her nerves sparked as pleasure pulsed through her veins, his breath scorching as he surged forward and pulled back with a delicious drag of his hips. Emma gave up silencing the sated sounds escaping her lungs as he kissed the length of her neck down to the plump flesh just above her breast. His sharp teeth teased the skin, his beard catching lightly on the material sitting just below the efforts of his taunting tongue.

She knew what he was pondering. She knew what he wanted - and oh, she wanted that too.

"Killian - yes," she encouraged, clenching around him as she clutched his dark hair a little harder. "Right there."

"Right-" he asked, his accent heavy and slurred as he pressed his fangs lightly against her flawless skin. "-here, love?"

"Yes, please," she nearly begged. "Just….bite me."

He did so wordlessly, his fangs piercing deep and fast as she cried out in ecstasy. He drank slowly as he shook against her, his release following hers with a final gruff groan. He didn't take much, swallowing twice before pulling back and catching his breath. Emma noticed a stray smear of blood on his bottom lip and moved her hand, swiping it away with her thumb as he smirked lazily at her. He spun carefully, dropping to the leafy ground and letting her perch on top of him while they both came back to reality - well, supposing that this life they led together was actually real.

When he gave her that sated, sweet, soulful smile, it was still a little hard to believe that it was.

"I love you, Swan."

That simple phrase warmed her unexpectedly and she bit back the grin that had become her typical reaction. How did he fill in the missing pieces of her life with one single sentiment like that? She realized it was an answer she might never learn - and she also decided she might be alright with that.

"I love you too," she smiled, nuzzling his nose before leaning her forehead on his. "But can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Can we be done conforming to society for tonight?"

"Mmmm," he laughed with a sigh. "Did we ever start?"

Emma giggled in return, letting him toy with her hair as he kissed her once more. It dawned on her as she felt the dull pain left behind by his piercing teeth that perhaps they'd never really been destined for normality. There was definitely nothing typical about this man or the way she'd completely fallen for him and the passion he constantly exuded, but maybe that was okay.

Maybe Emma didn't need normal. Maybe what she truly needed was to simply be in love with Killian Jones, the socially distracting and supernaturally sexy man who was so much more than normal.