Standard disclaimer applies, I own nothing and just needed to get some stuff out of my head. So yeah if I get some stuff wrong, I'm sorry. Also I have lousy grammar skills and this is a total work in progress, let's hope it ends well.

Chapter Forty Eight

Killian rapidly tapped his fingers against the table top. Henry's mothers might be among the most powerful women he had ever met but he found neither was as scary as when Henry was up to something. He pulled on his lower lip, considering the woman sitting across from him before pushed his back to the wall and swung his legs up on the bench of the booth.

Pulling his flask from his coat, he pulled the cork out with his teeth and spit it out before taking a long swallow of rum. He held out the flask to Milah and watched her from beneath his lowered brow. She glanced at it fleetingly and shook her head as her eyes wandered around the room.

"Not eager to pick out your forest or square view at Granny's?"

"I don't even know what that means." Milah released a deep breath and then took another. She sat straighter, higher in the booth and pushed her cold mug of coco around by the handle. "I wandered off."

Killian continued his silence as the devil was in the details and he was sure a clarification would follow. but allowed an eyebrow to wing up in response to her statement.

She lifted the mug and gave it a sniff, the smell causing her to wrinkle her nose. "Congratulations are in order I guess."

His other eyebrow lifted to join its mate.

"Or is it Best Wishes for the groom?"

Killian's head fell back against the wall and he closed his eyes. Somehow, she had finally filled in the missing pieces of his life. A small smile flitted across his face, hope welling up inside him but when he finally opened his eyes to reply, her blank face couldn't hide the anger flashing bright in her eyes. "I would accept either from you." He paused to gain her attention and was gratified when he had it. "But only if you meant it."

"I'm working on that." She waved a hand through the air as if brushing it off. "I have an explanation but I…" Milah seemed to run out of steam and the straightness she sat with slumped away from her. "You being happy is a good thing, there are just, my own issues which are getting in the way."

"You mean Emma."

The cold mug of coco flew across the room, the arm that threw it remained stretched out past the table. "Bloody hell," she muttered bitterly.

"Never thought you were one for throwing things."

"I wasn't. I'm not." She closed her eyes and placed what looked like a red rubber ball in her outstretched hand, squeezing the life out of it.

Killian watched her breath and squeeze the ball till she could open her eyes and look at him. "What's going on with you, love? I know I've made it a point to separate our lives but that doesn't change the fact that I care for you and want to help."

"I know that." A mirthless laugh escaped her. "I know that. It isn't that I'm not angry and I do feel out of place but I think there's something bigger than me making it all worse." A small and genuine smile crossed her face and she shared it with him. "Henry agrees with me."

"Oh, so you talked with the boy but not your Bae, or me?"

Milah rolled her eyes. "That is the least of our concerns, considering I completely lost it and destroyed a number of, what did he call them." She shook her head in thought till she found the word. "Photos! I did a number on your house and your family photos. Apparently, undead me likes to throw things. Almost threw a rock through a window of someone's home."

Killian scratched at his beard. "Does undead you know why?"

Milah shook her head no in response. "Right now, I know that the mention of her pushes me out of control and I break things. To be honest, it's just ridiculous Killian. I felt so helpless and stupid when Henry found me."

He opened his mouth to speak but had nothing to say. Killian needed to hear again that his happiness mattered to her, that she understood about the present but Milah couldn't say Emma's name without losing it. That issue was currently more important than his need for reassurance. He reached out and pushed the cork back into his flask. "What can I do?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "I think it has something to do with being brought back."

"Really? There's a surprise."

Milah stole the flask from his hands. "No need to be snippy, pirate. I'm trying to, I don't know, make up for keeping you apart."

He watched her glance at him and look away again, shame plainly visible in her demeanor. Finally something he could do. "It isn't your fault, our being apart. I'll have you know it isn't simply love and marriage for my dashing self." He took her hand, holding it, pressing it to get her to look at him as he smiled at her. "It's true love, tested and everything. One kiss and Neal, Robin and you could all be dead again. We're a powerful thing, love." He shook her hand a bit. "Me and the wife that is."

"Happy?"

"Beyond anything I ever imagined." He grimaced a bit. "Neither one of us grew up knowing or trusting this kind of thing. Family, love, belonging. She is everything to me. We are a we, but we aren't alone. It's Henry and Snow and Charming, Regina. Even with every Captain Guyliner comments. Sometimes I even look forward to the witch's company." Killian squeezed her hand before letting it go. "It's Neal, and Robin and now, you. I would be less without her and she without me but we aren't complete without our strange family around us. Either way, together or apart, we're fighting for the same thing, each other. Till we're together again, in this life and the next."

His words seem to echo in the silence and he thought about what he had said, the truth of it and felt his face heating in response. It was his turn to look away as he scratched behind one ear before he risked a quick glance back. Killian's emotions got the better of him, making him say more than he had planned and he hoped it hadn't rekindled that anger she dreaded.

Rolling her eyes, Milah's head tipped to one side and she crossed her arms. "You have always been a hopeless romantic, you know that?"

"I am devilishly handsome dashing rapscallion who terrorized the seas," Killian proclaimed. He nodded to the mess on the floor. "We should get that cleaned up, displeasing Granny is dangerous. She'll smell it on you and then shoot you with her crossbow."

"A man of honor with a heart like a marshmallow," Milah said bluntly and got to her feet to clean up the mess.


Gently placing the hand mirror back on the mantle, Emma returned to her balcony and looking out at the sea. It wasn't working and unable to reach the Land without Magic she was left to wonder what they had found in Storybrooke. Her mother had promised to let her know the second they had news or if the Jolly Roger was spotted sailing in this realm again. In return Emma had promised to check in nightly from the island.

Emma rolled her eyes. As if she wasn't surrounded by people who would inform Snow immediately if anything happened here. Anton and the dwarves were extremely protective of the twins, and her she supposed. Thank goodness August and Marco were here to shoo them away upon occasion. She remembered her mother comparing Emma's pregnancies, implying living here was Emma's way of recreating the prison she had given birth to Henry in.

The island wasn't so much a prison as was the waiting.

The bottomless sea was turbulent, white foam topping choppy waves as far as she could see. Lightening was flashing in the distance and Emma took comfort from it. The sea at least shared her impatience and moodiness. Her pirate would get it too.

For the first time, she wondered what Killian would think of the island home she was making for them and their family. Emma thought he'd like it and the dock waiting for the Jolly Roger to come home. Still some part of her wondered if a life here was possible for the princess and the pirate. Moving to look out at everything she had accomplished here, she smiled because despite having her own castle she had never really been a princess. Possible didn't matter as much, she supposed as here is where they were living and here the pirate and the not-really-a-princess would build a life.

A trickle of cold skated down her spine and she turned to study the room around her, a hand moving to cover her pregnant belly. The wind continued to shake the bushes on the island and the soft murmur of the dwarves and Anton finishing up work for the day as the light faded from the sky could be heard as well. Neither sound was the source making an alarm bell ring in her head at this moment.

Emma reached for the box on the mantel and removed the compass. Holding it in her right hand she thought of Killian and watched the needle spin round and round. It wasn't an unexpected result but checking the compass helped centered her mind and gave her the time she needed to explore the room with her magic.

Her brow furrowed in concentration before opening her eyes and moving closer to study the opened storybook she kept on the mantel. She took it from its spot and let her hand trail over Killian's image, letting a sad smile and the longing for him shine in her eyes. Closing the book she hugged it to her chest as the frown returned to her face.

Maybe she was wrong.

Emma hadn't really seen that last supper picture in the book before coming back to the Enchanted Forest but she was familiar with Granny's. Killian's cooking skills were improving but neither of them did much more than eggs, boiling water, and pancakes.

Above the counter in the diner was a clock, not a mirror where she could see a long thin shadow staring out of it.