This started from a prompt: Her favorite time of year was... and morphed into this. And yes, my profession peeked out. Enjoy.

Growing up, Emma Swan never thought about the year in terms of winter, spring, summer or fall but more as short durations during her life when she had to endure the weather and whatever it deemed to bring her. There were periods when it was too cold to be outdoors, and the ground was covered with snow, and then those days gave way to warmer weather, where the ground could be seen but the streets were wet and dirty from the slush. After that came a few days of sunshine and warmth, but those never lasted long, quickly giving way to cooler temperatures, reminding her it would soon be time to pull out her wool coat...which usually had grown too small. But that had all changed after moving to Storybrooke and falling in love with Killian Jones. He had a way of viewing life differently...it was no longer about what you were running from...but what you were running toward, and as the object of Killian Jones' affections, while every day was heavenly, there was just something about spring that brought out a side of him that could only be described as...corny...delicious...and oh, so wonderful. With Killian Jones by her side, spring had become her favorite time of the year.

Emma had to admit that her journey into the season of new beginnings, as her husband kept reminding her it was called, hadn't been easy. While she hadn't pushed back, as she had when he first showed interest in her, she hadn't taken the trip without asking many questions...trying to determine why he felt it was so important. Her pirate just gave her his endearing smile before reciting:

As petals graced with morning dew
Rise softly towards the sun
So in Spring hope doth renew
Its perfect Love for life began.

His recitation had been followed by a tender kiss and after that...it hadn't mattered what he was saying or where he was going, for wherever that was...she wanted to be there with him.

Their first spring together had been not long after the Jolly Roger had been returned, and as soon as it was warm enough, he took her sailing. They spent many evenings cruising around the harbor with Killian sharing with her his love of the stars. The first constellation he showed her was, of course, the Cygnus, but he had spun such a romantic tale of how, during the time they had been separated, it had been his friend; a tale of how he had told the stars all he had wanted to say to her…but feared he would never get the chance. The next week, his tale had included Phoenix and how, just like the bird, Killian was a survivor, reminding her that he could take care of himself. Then came Cassiopeia, Orion and Apus, each accompanied by a new tale told while they were lying on the ship's bow, staring up at the night's sky. The rhythm of the words as they flowed from Killian's mouth sent shivers up and down her spine and wrapped around her heart, assuring her that there was nowhere else she'd rather be but in his arms. His arms were home.

The second spring he brought her flowers, each flower accompanied by words that he spun together, pulling her closer and closer, just as if he were a spider trapping a fly. There had been pink roses because they were the same color as the blush on her cheeks, and buttercups as they reminded him of her golden hair. There were blue cornflowers to remind her of his eyes, and forget-me-knots in every color, each one accompanied by a line or more from a book of poetry. She had been given Snow White mums and Prince Charming bouquets, chocolate flowers and a perfumed Milky Way. Throughout the spring the gift giving continued, long exhausting her knowledge of flowers and pushing his imagination, she thought, to the limit. That is, until he started feeling very creative and ordering posies whose names made her blush. In fact, on the last day of spring when she had to relay to her father the embarrassing name of a rather...unique flower, she had been relieved to welcome the summer.

In the years that followed, Killian had continued to surprise her with his imagination, moving from those gifts that were edible...to those that were not...and then to those that fell somewhere in between, as his discovery of the internet expanded his shopping abilities. There was a chocolate spring where he had gifted her with more varieties of chocolate than she had ever imagined. Lingerie, perfume and sexy items of another nature the year after that had almost gotten them in trouble with her father a time or two.

Last spring, as her pregnancy was nearing its end, he surprised her daily with gifts ranging from flowers to chocolates and to what every pregnant wanted, long back massages. But their spring had changed when Hope was born, and while Killian had continued with his ministrations for her, he had also begun something special with their daughter. However, his gifts to the baby held no monetary value for they were gifts from his heart.

Pieces of Killian

Pieces of Emma

Pieces of them.

He shared stories of his life as a boy, stories of falling for Emma and his hopes and dreams for their future. And with each story he told, Emma's heart expanded in ways she never would have thought possible.

The time hadn't slowed down and with each new month, their infant grew, and in just a few weeks their baby girl would be turning one. With spring but a few hours old, Emma's curiosity had been building...and then, she had happened upon the lists, each one written meticulously in Killian's perfect penmanship. Balloons, ponies, bounce houses and cakes all listed, the numbers so large it quickly became apparent he was planning a three-ring circus and not a small, intimate party as they had discussed.

While Emma couldn't fault Killian's desire to celebrate the day of Hope's birth, she felt his plans might be a bit too grandiose for a first birthday party. Her dilemma was how to curb his enthusiasm without curbing his enthusiasm. As the baby monitor came alive and Emma could hear Killian talking nonsense to Hope while he changed her diaper, several options of what to say ran through her mind, but none felt right. I'll know when I see him, she thought, as the monitor went silent.

When daddy and daughter walked into the room, Emma's heart flipped with love at the image before her of the man and his pint-size companion, her hand stretched high clutching his hook. Unable to help herself, Emma's eyes took in their dark hair, pants and shirts covered by matching black leather jackets, each holding balloons, he with two to her one. She watched his eyes take in the sheaf of papers in her hand and the look that crossed his face as he glanced at them...then at her...then down at Hope, wiped any chance of a confrontation from her mind. If he thought that his daughter needed a party with three bounce houses, a dozen ponies and three cakes, who was she to tell him no?

"And what do you two have?" she asked softly, surprising him. His brow went up, silently questioning her decision, but when a look of gratitude crossed his face, Emma knew she had made the right choice.

Killian sauntered toward her, Hope toddling behind, his look of gratitude replaced by a cheeky grin. "Well, love," he held up the balloons, "are you aware of the date?"

Emma couldn't help the coy smile that crossed her face, "Hmm, the 22nd?" but then ruined the effect by giggling.

He sent her a little smile. "Get mama, little love," he encouraged Hope.

Without letting go of her daddy's hook, Hope toddled closer and lifted her left hand to take Emma's, only then realizing she was also holding onto a balloon. Not willing to let it go, Emma watched as she looked at the balloon, then up at Killian, and then at Emma's hand, a tiny frown finally marring the perfection of her features. Taking pity on her daughter, Emma wrapped her fingers around Hope's fist, the balloon safely enclosed. "Where are you taking mama?" she asked curiously as she followed them out of the house.

"We," Killian lifted Hope into his arms, "are celebrating another new beginning, and this spring," he handed her a balloon, "I thought we would write down something we are thankful for, put it inside these balloons and release them into the sky."

"That's a nice idea," Emma gave him a tender smile, "but I see my balloon already has something inside that I'm supposed to be thankful for." She squinted up at him. "Do I even need to ask?"

"Why, me dashing self, of course."

"Of course," she deadpanned, "and what are you thankful for?"

Killian sent her a side-eyed look as he released his balloon and bent over to untie Hope's from her wrist. "Why, the Jolly Roger, of course." He looked up, his eyes twinkling in merriment.

"Oh, you," Emma scoffed playfully as she watched Hope's balloon start to lift off, and the higher it rose, the bigger Hope's pucker grew, transforming into a full-fledged shriek.

"Ma!" Hope cried, little hands reaching high, "ma!"

Killian turned a panicked look Emma's direction. "But Swan," he mumbled, "I explained..." His voice trailed off.

Emma couldn't help but think about his grandiose plans for the first birthday party, thinking that even though he came across as being such a natural, there was still a lot to learn. "Come on, Daddy," she looped her arm through his, "if all she cries about today is a lost balloon, I'd consider it a win."

~~~CS~~~

Over the next few weeks, they tried and discarded several ideas which would allow Hope to be a part of Killian's spring thankfulness activity. None of the solutions had completely erased the baby's willingness to let go of something she deemed as hers...but that was to be expected. They had finally settled on one, however Emma knew her husband wasn't completely comfortable with it and was spending a large chunk of his waking hours trying to find the key. The fact that he was persistent couldn't hurt, she thought, as she went looking for him.

As she had anticipated, he was in Hope's room, but she heard him long before she saw him.

"See here, little love, this is my ship," she heard him say.

"Bo!" Hope squealed excitedly.

"The Jolly Roger is not just a boat, Princess Hope. The Jolly Roger is..."

"Bo! Bo!" Hope continued to chant repeatedly.

Killian's voice never got any louder as he went on with his story, while all along Hope continued to say "bo" over and over again. As he continued with his dissertation about the merits of the Jolly, Emma snuck closer to the bedroom door, wanting to get in a position so she could see what they were doing. Careful to avoid the squeaky door facing, she leaned around and peered inside. Killian was sitting in the rocking chair, Hope in his lap, speaking quietly, as if telling her a story, and her little girl was almost bouncing up and down on his lap, pointing to a balloon yelling, "Bo! Bo!"

Surprised that Killian was continuing the story even though his listener wasn't listening, Emma stepped into the room. "Killian?"

When he turned toward her, the look in his eyes was startling, for she had expected frustration, yet she saw what looked almost like pride. "Hello, love. Did you hear?"

Emma frowned, "Hear what? Hear her babbling along with your story?"

"Swan," he shook his head, "our amazing child's first word."

"Well, of course she's amazing," Emma grinned, "but I've heard her say several "words," like mama, dada, buba, and baba, just to name a few."

"Those aren't real words, Swan, but this one now," he held the balloon toward Hope, "what is this, Sweetheart?"

"Bo, bo!" She immediately proclaimed.

"See, Swan. She said boat. Those other words are just syllable reduplifications."

Emma felt her mouth drop open with shock at his proclamation, but her first thoughts was that he had been reading again. Pushing her questions aside until later, she was interested to see if it was only the drawing that Hope recognized as a boat and she held a replica of the Jolly out to her daughter. "What's this, baby?"

And to her surprise, Hope squealed, "Bo."

Killian beamed at her, as if to say, 'Told you so,' but the feelings inside were so...just so big, she couldn't give him a hard time. "You were right, Killian. I need to add this to the baby book."

"And I need to tell your father," he preened. He handed over the baby and left the room.

Her baby was growing up, she thought, sitting said baby on the floor to play for a bit and pulling out the memory book.

~~~CS~~~

After that day, their spring activity changed...yet again...for Killian's drawing on the balloon wasn't just used to memorialize pictures that the family was thankful for, but also a language learning time for their child. As Hope became more vocal, Killian took great pride in his ability to differentiate between real words and what he deemed as jargon, a word she had been surprised to hear him use. So surprised, in fact, that she asked where his newfound knowledge of language development had come from, and with the tips of his ears pink, he had mumbled that he had been reading. It wasn't until she came upon his stash of books that she realized he must have brought home every book in the library...and it was all for Hope, which caused her heart to melt even more. Her fierce pirate had truly been conquered. Who would have known?

With the addition of Hope, spring seemed to have a new meaning for Emma...and she thought for Killian too. It had always been a season of reaffirmation and new beginnings, but this spring they were celebrating new life...new moments. And with each new discovery, her appreciation for the little things that life had to offer became more real. Who knew that the squeal of her child chasing a butterfly would capture her attention so thoroughly or that the way that a tug on her fingers could pull her heart apart?

But with each tiny treasure that she was given, Emma worried about the list of items that Killian had made for the birthday party. She had asked if he needed help several times, but he always told her that everything was under control...it was whose control that worried her. Making them happy brought Killian great joy, Emma just worried that something beyond her control would go wrong and he would be hurt, yet, what could she do?

The day of Hope's birthday dawned bright and sunny and, as if by a mutual decision, they kept her morning relaxed and tried to stay with her daily routine. Everything was going smoothly until Emma tried to take her upstairs for a nap and she rather vociferously began showing off a new word, screaming, "No! No!" And reaching for her daddy and yelling, "Bo! Bo!"

Unwilling to give in, Emma continued up the stairs, found Hope's blanket, and had barely sat down in the rocking chair when the baby's dark locks were tucked against her mama's breast and she fell quickly asleep. As the baby relaxed in her arms, Emma found she couldn't stop a tear or two from sliding down her face cheek; that in her arms was a miracle that never ceased to amaze her, more so, it seemed, every day. Placing a kiss on a petal-soft cheek, Emma placed Hope in her crib, hoping she would sleep at least a few hours before they had to leave.

She arrived back on the first floor, just as Killian shoved his phone back in his pocket. "Problem?"

The startled look that quickly crossed his face gave her pause for a brief moment. "No, love," he hastened to alleviate her concern, "I just need to check on a few things. I'll be back shortly." He kissed her cheek and left, giving her a smile that she was unable to decipher, but deciding not to worry, she went to prepare for the party.

~~~CS~~~

Emma, with a sweet-smelling baby in her arms, met Killian on the stairs. "Everything alright?" She studied his eyes carefully, as they held secrets, but the glint of humor hiding behind them assured her they weren't secrets to worry over.

"Everything is fine, love." His eyes shied away from hers to settle on Hope. "I just needed to...take care of a few things."

Killian lifted his hand, as if to touch the baby, when Emma's eyes locked in on black smudges on his fingers. "What's this?" She lightly touched his hand.

Killian looked at his fingers, his cheeks taking on a ruddy hue, and frowned slightly. "Nothing, really." He buried his face against the baby's tummy, loudly blowing raspberries.

Hope, excited that her adults' attention was back where it belonged, shrieked in glee. "Mo!" she exclaimed. "Mo!"

"My Princess looks beautiful," Killian crooned to the baby and blew raspberries against Hope's neck.

Hope giggled and with both fists grabbed handfuls of Killian's hair. "Mo."

Emma helped untangle his dark hair from chubby fists, noticing his watery eyes. "Got you good, didn't she?"

"Aye, Swan, she did," he murmured, blinking rapidly. "I'll just wash up and be right down."

Emma watched him disappear upstairs, realizing he had neatly sidestepped the question. "Your daddy's good at that, isn't he?"

Hope picked that moment to notice the ribbons on her pink princess dress that Granma Snow had given her and started chattering about them in her unintelligible baby talk.

Emma nodded along, answering periodically when it sounded as if a question were being asked, but her thoughts were still on those black marks on Killian's fingers.

"Ready to go, Swan?" Killian startled her from her reverie, but without waiting for her to respond, sent Hope a huge smile. "Listen to her jargon. Such a smart little girl," he cooed.

"Jargon?" She raised a brow.

"Aye, a group of sounds that have no meaning but use rules of the language she hears," he explained matter-of-factly.

"Of course," she deadpanned as if it were the most natural thing in the world for a three-hundred-year-old pirate to explain rules of language to her. When he took Hope from her, the baby's fist grabbed hold of his chains and once again she began her chatter...er…jargon. As Killian patiently answered her apparent questions, she had to take a quick peek behind her to make sure her melted heart hadn't been left behind.

~~~CS~~~

Emma had assumed the birthday party was being held at her parents' farm as it was the only place she knew that had enough room for three bounce houses as well as a place for pony rides, but when Killian directed them toward Granny's, she couldn't stop the questions, "Killian, why are we here?"

"A birthday party, Swan," his eyes twinkled as he opened the door and stepped inside to a chorus of Happy Birthdays.

Tears immediately filled her eyes as she looked around the room at the party...the real party, that Killian had planned for their little girl. They were surrounded by family and a few friends, not the crowds that she had envisioned, and the room was decorated with pink streamers and white balloons, not a bounce house or pony in sight. "You did all this?" She smiled at Hope, as her eyes had grown large as she took everything in around her.

"Bo!" Hope squirmed to be let down. "Bo!"

"I see the boat," Killian responded quietly setting her on her feet, following her as she toddled off.

Emma watched them go but couldn't figure out why Hope thought she saw a boat, and then...she saw the answer. Each balloon had a hand-drawn picture on it in black marker. "So, that's where he went," she answered her own question from earlier in the day, before doing the only thing she could with Hope running around showing off her new-found vocabulary - she followed.

"Emma," she was waylaid by her mother before she made it very far, "that dress looks adorable. I'm so glad she wore it."

"Thanks, Mom." Emma hugged her mother hello. "Hope was quite enamored with it. In fact, the way she admired herself in front of the mirror reminded me of her father."

Snow laughed and nodded toward where Hope was pointing at each balloon and naming the objects she saw. "Did you know he had this planned?"

Emma shook her head, still thinking of the party she had anticipated them attending. "No idea. He's certainly managed to surprise me this time."

"But in a good way, right?"

"The very best way." Emma couldn't take her eyes off her husband and daughter, their dark heads so close together. "Look at him, Mom." She hesitated as she composed her thoughts, "I knew he would be a good father, but...I didn't know he would be a great one."

"True love is a powerful thing," Snow murmured softly.

"That it is, Mom. That it is," Emma answered just as quietly.

They turned their attention to the birthday girl who was running from balloon to balloon, showing off her skills with glee, with Emma often having to interpret her daughter's new words.

Hope pointed in their direction and then at a balloon, and after her husband sent her a lopsided grin from across the room, he handed the little girl her balloon. She toddled toward them, stopping in front of Emma and her grandmother, Snow White, showing them her balloon and then her dress. It wasn't long before her attention quickly strayed to the side of the room, where Grumpy was blowing on a pinwheel causing it to spin around, and off she flew.

"I'd forgotten how short their attention span is at that age," Snow commented.

Emma laughed, "Yes, it is, unless it's story time and then she doesn't seem to get enough."

"Ah, yes," her mother agreed, "the putting off bed excuse."

Emma hummed in agreement as her mother continued, "I can't believe how much more she's babbling," Snow complimented the baby. "I only saw you a couple days ago."

Emma opened her mouth to say thank you but Killian beat her with a response of his own, "It's called jargon, Milady," he stated patiently before disappearing after Hope again.

Emma gave her mother a timid smile and shrugged her shoulders before she was called to help Granny in the kitchen.

~~~CS~~~

Several hours later, Hope was wearing her diaper and had both fists full of the chocolate cake Granny had baked just for her. She was systematically working her way through one bite at a time, but more seemed to be going onto her, and the surface around her, then inside. Watching her daughter enjoy herself, Emma was once again struck by feelings so...intense that she found herself rubbing her hand over her heart, thinking to calm its frantic beating.

Her first thought was to find Killian and share it with him, but he was in conversation with Sean so rather than interrupt, she went searching for a towel to clean up her little princess. She found her mother in the storage closet, ostensibly on the same mission, as she was standing with several towels clutched to her chest. "Shh," Snow placed her finger over her lips and mouthed, "listen."

Emma frowned slightly, but shut the door quietly. "What?" she mouthed back.

"Killian," her mother whispered.

It took Emma several seconds to weed through the competing voices, but once she had, she covered her face, groaning softly. Her husband was in the middle of educating who knows how many people about the importance of weaning one's child off the bottle before they were one. He then followed that topic up with the importance of not allowing a child suck on bottles, thumbs, etc. after the age of two, as it could cause difficulties with speech and language development.

Emma rolled her eyes at her mom. "Maybe I should go sidetrack him," she whispered.

Snow laughed but shook her head. "Leave him alone," she whispered back. "I think it's sweet. Has he been reading?"

"Yes," Emma smiled, "obsessively. What was your first clue?"

"Well, there was the jargon comment, this conversation and it explains why I overheard him tell Leroy that Hope said "bo" and not "blow" because she hadn't learned to produce consonant clusters."

Emma groaned. "I can't imagine what's next."

"Oh, I can," Snow gave her a cheeky smile, which grew when they heard David's voice joining the group.

"Oh dear, give me a hint."

"Just listen..." Snow grinned as right on cue she heard David say...

"Have you started the books I gave you on potty training?

~~~CS~~~

Later that night, when Hope had been bathed and put to bed, Emma found Killian sitting in the dark staring out the window. "Killian?" She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

He kissed the back of her hand, tugging her down onto his lap. "I'm perfect, Swan. I was just thinking about this past year with our princess." He sighed. "It's gone by so quickly."

"It has," Emma agreed, "but I wouldn't change anything about it. Everything has been perfect."

"But it almost wasn't." He played with her fingers for several moments, while he collected his thoughts. "I was too worried about showing off for others, and I almost forgot what was really important."

"And what did you come up with?" Her hand cupped his jaw waiting for an answer.

"You...me...Hope...our family. The little things...those are the things that are important."

She couldn't keep from kissing his lips softly. "Agree. But I don't believe you're just now learning this."

"No," he affirmed, "but I make a point every spring of starting over." He kissed her tenderly. "I never want to take what we have together for granted." His kiss this time was more intense...more heated.

"You won't, Killian." Emma cradled his face. "If you get too old to remember spring, I'll remind you, because you've taught me that spring is my favorite time of year."

"And who will remind us when you get too old, Swan?"

"Hey, watch it," Emma giggled. "Then we rely on Hope."

Killian pushed them up out of the chair. "Good thing I'm not old," he scoffed, "I couldn't do this." He tossed her over his shoulder, not stopping until he reached their bedroom, where he spent a significant amount of time showing her just how old he was...Not!

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think.