Lucky last chapter guys! I've kept this T rated, but toying with the idea of writing an M ending on it too…let me know if that's something you'd be interested in. And enjoy!

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Broken Parts

Five

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She's relieved that when she makes her way down to the docks Killian is by himself. Her whole day has been consumed with flashes of her nightmare and she actually feels a weight lift from her shoulders as she sees the pirate quietly coiling a rope, Neal nowhere in sight. The two men have a lot of their own unresolved issues and she knows that at some point they'll have to face each other, just as she will have to face Neal, but right now, the fact that the father of her son is heading away from her is a welcome thing.

She watches him for a moment, feeling her heartbeat actually speed up in anticipation, her skin tingle in that way which is becoming familiar to her. The way it does when he touches her, when his breath caresses her neck, when his fingers squeeze her hip.

Her steps carry her toward the ship, her shoes gently clicking against the wooden boardwalk. That sound must be enough for him to know though, for him to realise she's approaching him.

"Emma," he says by way of greeting, none of the usual lilt in his voice there, "Thought you'd be with Neal."

He sounds pissed off and that confuses her, because the last time they'd seen each other he'd been quite understanding of her need for space, of her need to take some time to figure her mind out.

In reality she'd only taken a day. Not that long at all.

And then it hits her, something that shouldn't have taken her this long to realise. He would have come back. Because unlike any other person in her life, he always comes back. And seeing Neal leave her apartment that morning when she'd just told the pirate to leave her be for a while wouldn't have looked too honest.

She smiles slightly, knowing his bitterness is guided by obvious jealousy. It makes her stomach do little flips to know she can get this kind of reaction out of him, "Neal's halfway to New York."

"Oh?" he asks, hope shining through his voice. The rope drops, forgotten to the ground.

But she can't help but tease him a little, "He's coming back."

"Oh." It's flat now. Uninterested.

"For Henry. He's coming back for Henry," she says with a grin.

"Emma Swan, the gods did not grant me patience when it came to you. What are you saying?" His words are accented by his solid stride towards her.

The smile on her lips dies as a heavy intensity settles over them. Far from uncomfortable, the movement just seems to make their anticipation more rife, more tangible.

"I'm saying, I choose you."

And she doesn't even get a chance to react to his expression. She sees a flash of teeth and then she is back where she belongs. In his arms, his lips on hers, her hands in his hair, his hook insisting at the small of her back; it feels…secure. Like she's safe there. It's something new and foreign to her, but she's finding out very fast that she loves it.

The dizzying effects of her realisation have her clutching at his hand, looking for something to hold onto and he acquiesces with no hesitation, clinging to her in this beautiful raw moment as their bodies roll into each other, trying to become closer, to feel more.

But just like always, something ticks in her brain and the reality of the situation catches up to her. She reluctantly leans back after a moment, gasping for air as his mouth keeps exploring the column of her throat. The words she needs to say stick on their way out, but she eventually says what she's been trying to, "I still don't know what this all means, Killian."

He pulls back, his expression sobering considerably, "But you want this? Us?"

Nodding, she reaches her free hand behind his neck, tugging him forward to rest her forehead against his, breathing heavily, "I do. But I can't promise it will be easy." Her other hand is still held in his and she finds it comforting that he's rubbing gentle circles across her palm, that he hasn't just dropped her hand in fright of all this. Because she's used to that, to guys running and in all fairness, to her own selfish need to run. But there's none of that here.

"Never thought it was going to be, lass, not from the day we first crossed paths." He tries to peck her lips again, but she pushes him back.

"That can't be the solution for everything."

He lets out a chuckle at her obvious frustration, "Emma, I'm not unburdened by complications myself. And I wish to tear down those carefully constructed walls you have around yourself as I hope you do to me, but right now there are more…physical barriers I think we could have fun with."

And it should set her on edge that he's being so coy and dismissive, but it actually sounds perfect to her. Shedding themselves of worries and doubts for as many moments as they need, to just be with each other and discover each other.

She smiles and, untangling her hands from his, pulls him to her by the lapels of his jacket. He's already reciprocating, drawing her in, cool metal on the back of her neck, the stinging bite of the tip of his hook on her skin. It's fierce and it is theirs.

He claims her lips as she stumbles backwards, her back coming to rest against the wooden surface of a door. Her leg almost lifts of its own accord, his hook swinging down to catch it and bring it up to rest against his hip, drawing him closer. Always closer.

"More," she moans into his neck as he actually lifts her, pulling her into him and turning the handle on the door.

She's been in the Captain's quarters before, but it's only now that she realises just how right she feels in here. How the place seems to comfort her and lift her spirits. It hits her that it feels like home, something so very unfamiliar to her and yet something she has always wanted.

His hand is fisted in her hair and she's gasping for breath in the most delicious way, dizzy and feeling completely whole. "Killian," she rasps, her voice breaking through kiss after kiss.

"Mmm," he murmurs, making his way down her jaw, across her chest, his beard scratching her, distracting her with its tantalising movement.

"Thank you for knowing me."

And he smiles at that, because he knows exactly what she means. He swings her around in his arms, making sure the door is shut behind them before making their way towards his bed. He's been watching her for so long now, reading the open book of her story, understanding her wants, her needs. Tonight she wants him, tomorrow she needs closure on that other part of her life.

His hand slides up under her shirt and she arches against him. "Love," he says, thinking back to that day she offered him a place in her life, a chance to be a part of something. They've got so much to offer each other and she doesn't even recognise the half of it. But he so looks forward to figuring out the rest with her, "Thank you for finding me."

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Thank you for all your feedback and support. Not to mention, the fairies who now have their wings because of you ;)