Once Upon A Happy Beginning

Chapter Two: With Love, Henry

Killian

I place Emma down when we reach the front door and dig around in my pockets for the key. Bloody keys, why are they so small? At least with a ship you get anchors and ropes and there's always fifty-odd men on board so you can go down and destroy yourself at a tavern whilst knowing that no one's commandeering your boat - houses, well, they're different. I find the slippery bastard underneath my flask of rum and keeping my hooked arm curled around Emma's waist I unlock the door before opening it so that my wife can walk in ahead of me.

She flicks the lights on and she laughs. I follow her gaze to the kitchen island, bloody make up and that strange stick that makes Emma's hair go all flat and not Emma-ish. There's magazines open on pages with wedding dresses and hairstyles that have been written on in Regina's handwriting. There's champagne glasses and one smashed on the floor, spilling the "mimosa" that was inside it all over the floor. We suck in a breath together and look at each other - neither of us have been back here since the Black Fairy's chaos ensued. "Waste of perfectly good drink," I say nodding towards the floor.

"I think that was mine..." Emma says unsurely, waving her hands in the air and sending all the cosmetics flying into place. The liquid swirls back into a newly formed glass and Emma sends two glasses flying towards us. She picks them out of the air and turns around to hand one to me. It tastes normal. Well it's orange juice and champagne, quite obviously it'd be better as plain rum, but it tastes incredibly normal for being left on the floor in here during a whole week of cursed Storybrooke. I don't think I'll ever not be amazed by Emma's magic. Bloody hell, anything about her. Sometimes I think I'm going to wake up and this will all have been a dream. One long dream about a villainous pirate who turned good because of this incredible woman that he's so damned lucky to call his wife. That I'll open my eyes and it'll all be gone. Everything. Her. I'll be trapped on Neverland again, with my own curse of a Milah-less heart, a hook for a left hand and my mind set on the one sole idea of revenge on the Crocodile. "To us." Emma says, raising her glass.

"To us. Happy Six Day Anniversary, love."

"Ugh... I can't believe we've been married for six days and I spent all that time under a damn curse!" She says, holding onto my hook, something I never imagined anyone would do. Captain Hook's hook, that annoying piece of metal that I'd lost hope of people seeing as anything more. She doesn't. She treats it as if it is just a hand. "I suppose... we just have to make up for lost time." She takes a sip of her drink and turns around, leading me behind her over her shoulder to the sofa. I know I'm not exactly a saint when it comes to women, but wow, she is quite possibly the sexiest woman I've ever met. "I've texted Regina. We're alone tonight." I feel something rare in my chest. It's never been about the sex or even those quick kisses before the heat of battle with Emma, not like it has been with other women. This one, my soulmate, my dream girl, my true love, the only one in three long centuries that has made me feel like there's more to life than revenge and she's making me weak at the knees and making my heart pound from the desperation and the craving of her lips against mine.

"What's this?" Emma says suddenly. I panic. Her voice isn't concerned or scared or worried, just curious, but I know Storybrooke and I know Swan. Somehow the two are always linked with danger.

"What's what?" I ask, wrapping my arm around her and drawing her close. She's my wife. I'll be damned if I let her get hurt.

"This." She tells me. I look at the pink thing in her hands. No. The pink book. She can't see the fresh white of the pages from where she's holding it, so I flip it over to show us both the cover.

It's a pink colour, like the pink of those hearts that Snow made me help cover her apartment with for Valentine's Day last year, with snaking vines indented in silver. There's a heart at the top in the centre formed out of a swan and a hook. I can feel a lump growing in my throat and tears welling up in my eyes as I read the title in it's silvery lettering: "Emma and Killian: A Love Story" I look at Emma and see the same smile on her face, I kiss her forehead and she looks up at me, "I think it's story time now, love."

I sit down on the sofa and let Emma sit on my lap, stretching her legs on the rest of the cushions. It's surprising how naturally I hold the book in my left arm, keeping it steady with the hook on the far side. I use my other hand to flick open the book and rest it on the upper arm. I read out the inscription that's written on the inside:

Mom and Killian (Or Dad, I guess now... That might take some getting used to for both of us...),

Congratulations! I just wanted to leave this in here because I figured this would be a wedding gift you don't need to open in a brunch at Granny's or whatever Grandma whips up. The pen started writing parts of your story in Camelot and I guess it was something I thought you'd might like to see finished. My other Mom and Zelena helped me make the actual cover, but you might have heard them finishing their arguments over the proper spell for it whenever you entered the room. We ended up asking Grandpa (Gold) – with Belle there to make sure he was sane...– so I'm just warning you in case it decides to blow up in your faces...

With love,

Henry

"Thank you, kid." Emma whispers as I press my nose into her hair and inhale her sweet rose shampoo. Yeah, thank you... son. Thank you.