Once Upon a Time 1. Chapter 1

Emma Swan had been afraid many times during her lonely life in the foster system, but she had never been more afraid than in this moment.

It was as if she had stepped into her own sci-fi movie - complete with a swirling portal opening up in the middle of Central Park right in front of her. She nervously glanced around her, the vortex roaring with power causing her blonde ponytail to sway violently, only for her to notice that she was alone.

Alone and terrified.

No one would believe her, a poor nineteen-year-old orphan who had to steal and thieve her way around just to make rent on her crummy one bedroom apartment, and Emma had to pinch herself to make sure this was actually happening.

But it wasn't until a body (tall and lanky) was thrown through that she let out an audible gasp, taking a tentative step back. The swirling madness finally ceased, closing itself up and leaving the man, whose face was planted down into the dirt, behind.

After it had disappeared there was nothing but silence, the world so quiet around her that Emma could actually hear the vacant hum of electricity in the air, her breathing still hard and labored. When she realized that the body on the ground still had not moved (how much time had actually passed? Seconds? Minutes?), Emma cautiously stepped forward, approaching the man.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, spitting dirt out of his mouth, hand shakily running through his long, messy locks. He slowly began to pick himself up, coughing a few times, back still turned towards her as he cleaned the stains from his once pristine uniform.

"Hey. Are you okay?" Emma almost hadn't realized that she had spoken to him until he stilled, obviously not realizing that he was not alone.

The man ran the palms of his hands down his slacks and her heart sped up in the anticipation of him finally facing her. During her years in the system, Emma had heard many a tale of foreign and strange lands, mystical objects, aliens, and even magic beanstalks, but she had never expected to run straight into a fairy tale of her own.

When she saw the portal for the first time, it had obviously frightened her. But Emma's nerves quickly changed to confusion at not the sight of a little green alien, but a grown man (who was currently having a very difficult time in figuring out his surroundings).

Lifting himself off the ground, he gave a grunt before finally turning to face her. "Give me a few moments to get my wits about me, and I'll let you know, love."

Definitely not what she was expecting.

Emma had been anticipating translucent skin and an antenna, not Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. The man must have been a god that had dropped down to earth (what other explanation could there be for the swirling vortex she had just witnessed?), but he seemed just as stunned as her, his voice low and a look of fear taking over his features. His blue eyes met her green ones, hiding behind the dark frame of her glasses, and Emma swore that her heart had stopped beating just at the sight of him (and it seemed like she had the same effect on him as well).

"You…I – I wasn't really expecting that to work…" His buckled boot clad feet shuffled awkwardly in the dirt as his voice trailed off, mumbling to himself, face growing redder by the minute.

Ignoring his uneasiness, Emma stepped forward, hands placed firmly on her hips. She felt the surge of confidence and control that years of taking care of herself had refined now flowing through her bones, almost a fire coursing inside, right under her skin. "What the hell was that?"

"A portal," he casually explained, as if she should have known the fact already. "Now would you mind, miss, telling me where I am?"

"New York," Emma replied curtly, eyeing the man as he yanked his long locks back into a small ponytail, resting at the top of his neck (and definitely _not_ making her stomach do little flips that she had not felt in a while). "You're not from here are you?"

"What gave it away?" He stopped short of his own words, eyes widening at his tone. He seemed flustered, as if he knew that he had made a grave mistake. "I apologize, milady. I did not mean to seem rude. Lieutenant Killian Jones at your service."

And then he bowed low, pulling his feet back, arm resting across his stomach and gaze fixed to the ground. The act caused the ends of Emma's mouth to tilt up in a crooked grin. The man was obviously confused, cheesy, yet totally making Emma's heart beat rapidly at the moment by the sweet (yet foreign) gesture.

(It was as if he had stepped out of a storybook – her own version of a knight in shining armor.)

When she didn't immediately respond to him, Killian finally glanced up at her, nervousness making his eyebrows arch in confusion. "Now would be an appropriate time to tell me your name as well, if you so choose to grace me with it."

She saw a flicker of the cocky man she had been expecting only grace his face briefly, before he looked up at her with hopeful and expectant eyes. This man – this _Killian Jones _\- obviously knew nothing about Emma or her past, but somehow he had already managed to bewitch her heart and soul, intriguing her in a way that no man (no _one_, if she was being completely honest) ever had before.

And, looking back on it, that is why she supposes that she answered him.

"Emma. Emma Swan. And there's no need to bow. I'm not royalty or anything."

His hand was outstretched towards her, reaching, grasping to tentatively meet her's, and Emma only hesitated for a second (his eyes full of honesty and youthfulness and she could hear them practically screaming "trust me"), before placing her smaller hand in his (his skin rough from time aboard the ship and, just in that instant, she knew that he had years of stories written upon his skin, a tale in each mark).

He pulled her hand towards his mouth (almost on instinct, as if he had been through years of training that had been engraved into his system), placing a small kiss upon the tips of her fingers, and Emma let a small gasp escape at the contact because _Jesus_ that was unexpected. "I believe every woman should be treated as such."

"Smooth talker," she chimed in with an eye roll, pulling her hand back to her side, skin still tingling where his lips had left their mark. "Where did you say you were from?"

(She madly rubbed at the place where his mouth had touched her, trying, _urging_ the spark to go away, for her heart to not fall. She couldn't do this – couldn't _trust_ – just for her to be left alone once again)

"I come from a realm known as the Enchanted Forest," he explained, fiddling with the cuffs of his uniform. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that he was nervous (and he had the right to be – thrown into a strange land with a random woman almost playing twenty questions with him), but it felt like more than that to Emma. For a man in his early twenties, Killian seemed to be shy and naïve, as if he had been sheltered and protected by someone (a difficult past probably lying somewhere deeply beneath).

"The Enchanted Forest?" she snorted, a sarcastic laugh crossing her lips. "Like Snow White and Cinderella and the Easter Bunny?"

"Yes to the princesses, no to the rabbit."

Her first instinct was to laugh, because seriously _what the hell was going on here_? But his face was earnest and her heart was thumping too loudly at the moment for her to even hear her own thoughts. Narrowing her eyes at him, he crouched a little under her scrutiny until a small smile broke out over her face. "I almost wouldn't believe you if it weren't for the swirling vortex of doom that just spit you out."

Killian straightened himself up from his bowed position, breathing out a sigh of frustration in reply. "Which, unfortunately, does not stay open long enough for the return trip home."

"So how are you going to get back?"

He grew silent, quietly contemplating her question before shrugging his shoulders slightly in defeat. "I have absolutely no idea." 

She studied him – the stranger, this man that had somehow already confused and intrigued her, leaving her mind a jumble and making her doubt everything that she had once thought about the world. He was different, and not just because he wasn't from her time period. There was something special about this Killian guy, something raw and honest, completely and utterly _beautiful_. And Emma Swan had every intention in finding out what it was.

Her eyes flickered towards his and she knew that every word he had spoken was true (at the moment she didn't know why – why she felt this pull, this longing deep in her gut to trust him, to know him, to not take her eyes off of him) and Emma instantly felt the beginnings of her walls (those few pieces that had been laid by her parents who had abandoned her on the side of a freeway, by all of the foster families who sent her back, by those who had overlooked her because she was too old) begin to weaken for him.

"Look, you seem like a nice guy. And I have this thing for knowing when people are lying and you seem genuine in your words." She paused, watching his nervousness slowly fade as she took a step closer. "Why don't I show you around until you can figure out how to get back home?"

"Well unless you have any magic beans lying around, I'm afraid it's going to be almost impossible."

Emma bit her tongue to keep from chuckling, both at the inherent silliness of his words and the situation that she had somehow stumbled upon (_only her_, she mocked inside). "Come on, it's starting to get dark." Without a second thought, she grabbed his hand, dragging him towards her yellow bug that had been parked on the side of the street. "Let's get you some food and some sleep, and we'll figure it out in the morning."

"Oh I couldn't," he hesitated as she pulled him to a stop in front of the vehicle. He eyed the door in curiosity (or more honestly, confusion), before continuing his excuses. "I don't want to intrude. It would be bad form."

"Look, you obviously have no idea about…well, anything here. If I'm quite honest, you look like a lost, scared little puppy." She paused to chuckle lowly to herself, reaching around him - the smell of the sea still fresh on his tanned skin – to open the door and shove him inside. It was awkward, seeing as he didn't know what to do with the metal contraption she was shoving him into, but she sensed that he trusted her (what other choice did he honestly have at the moment?). Emma quickly moved to the other side of the car, slipping inside the driver's seat, and buckling herself up. "Besides, I would enjoy the company."

"You're alone?" Killian questioned, giving a sharp intake of breath when she reached around to help him buckle his seatbelt, since he obviously had no idea what he was doing.

"For the most part," she shrugged, putting the yellow bug into drive before steering out onto the road. "Pretty much have been my whole life."

"You're an orphan too."

She hit the brakes a little too sharply, causing Killian to jolt in his seat. Wincing, and mouthing a breathy "sorry", Emma pressed the gas petal gently, avoiding his eyes as she spoke. "How'd you know?"

"You, lass, are somewhat of an open book. Plus I know the look that you had in your eyes. I myself have it as well. Now it's just me and my older brother Liam." From her peripheral vision, Emma could see his smile fading as he thought to himself, and it only made the pull towards him grow even stronger. "God knows I've probably scared him to death leaving through the portal like that. I'll be sure to get an earful whenever I find a way back. _If_ I find a way back, that is."

And Emma didn't know why she did, being young and naïve (and probably having way too much of a teenage crush at the moment), she grabbed his hand, easily lacing her fingers through his, the other still firmly planted on the wheel. "Don't worry about it, Killian. We'll figure it out."

She gave it a squeeze and Killian's face grew redder, keeping his eyes downcast from hers, as if he looked her way he was going to suddenly combust from embarrassment.

He was absolutely adorable like that, blue eyes contrasting nicely with his reddened cheeks, hair tied neatly at the nape of his neck (and she wanted nothing more than to run her fingers through it, teenage thoughts giving way to more suggestive intentions). She shoved the ball of desire in the pit of her stomach away, knowing that it only led to heartbreak.

And already, even though she hardly knew the man, Emma knew that she just couldn't do that too him.

With a soft sigh drifting past her lips, they rode in silence a few miles before she pulled over, parking on the side of the street in front of a quaint Italian restaurant.

"We're here."

He frowned, obviously unfamiliar with the signage – and particularly the guy dancing around outside in the pizza costume, flyers in hand. "What is this place?"

"Local pizza joint," she informed him, nodding for him to open the door and step out of the car. Quickly, Emma took her place beside him again, linking her arm through his and chatting animatedly as they walked. "Not the best quality but it's usually all I can afford. Plus, you can't beat the service here."

The door opened with a jingle, the few pairs of eyes in the near empty room turning towards them. Black and white checkered tile covered the floor, the walls painted in a warm red, and the man behind the counter – short and plump, accent thick – lit up at the sight of her, wide grin spreading across his face.

"Emma! It's been too long!" His belly shook in delight as he spoke, moving to stand behind the counter in front of them.

"Hey, Antonio," Emma smiled back easily, splaying her fingers across the counter, eyes not even moving towards the menu before ordering. "Two slices of pepperoni please."

For Emma, this place was the closest thing she had to family. The Italians that ran the diner had welcomed her without a second thought, feeding her and never questioning when she was low on cash. Heck, even Antonio's wife Rita had taken her shopping for sheets for her twin-sized bed when she had moved into the apartment nearby.

At the moment, they were all she had.

And, almost being like the embarrassing parent type, Antonio glanced towards Killian with a knowing smile, eyebrow rising in amusement. "And who might this handsome, young man be?"

"This is Killian. He's kind of new here."

"No kidding." The man chuckled, giving Killian (and his naval uniform) a once over, finally reaching on the counter behind him to slide two plates towards them, steaming fresh slices eagerly awaiting to be eating. "On the house. Enjoy, you two."

Taking the pizzas in hand, Emma thanked the man before leading them towards a booth in the back – her usual – sliding in as she spoke. "Okay so we may need to get you a new wardrobe after this. You don't exactly fit in here with the naval uniform."

Killian chuckled, obviously feeling more comfortable about her and the situation at hand, sliding into the booth in front of her as if he had been doing it his whole life already. "Well I'd say I look rather dashing, don't you think?"

A shy wink sent her way had Emma's heart racing, and she tried her best to get it to slow down before she spoke to him, knowing that her voice would probably sound nervous and love-struck (she was, damn him).

After a moment, she finally looked up – face still red from the heart stopping wink – seeing that Killian was looking down at the food in front of him in question. She wanted to laugh at his lack of knowledge, but she bit her tongue once more, sliding the plate closer to him instead as she spoke.

"It's called pizza. Cheese, marinara sauce, bread, pepperoni. Greasy but good. A food staple here for those who can't afford more."

Killian glanced her way, and when she nodded that it was alright, he picked up the greasy food, cheese already starting to slide off before he caught it, suddenly stuffing the majority of it into his mouth.

She eagerly watched him chew, waiting for a reaction (and when he moaned in pleasure it most certainly did _not_ get her thoughts racing, heat shooting down below and a feeling of warmth and desire setting over her).

"Bloody hell. This is delicious," he spoke in a muffled voice, his mouth full of cheesy goodness. Emma reached for a nearby napkin and dabbed at the splotch of marinara that had gotten stuck to the side of his mouth. He gave her a cheesy (literally) grin, swallowing the food, eyes wide in amazement. "Pardon my language, milady, but this is the best thing I've ever eaten."

Emma giggled, adjusting the glasses that had slipped down her nose, before picking up her own slice and taking a bite. "Pizza can do that to you. And I told you, it's Emma."

His face softened, hand reaching across the table to lie on top of hers. She chewed her pizza in silence, trying her best to ignore the way his skin felt against hers, until his head ducked down, obviously trying to catch her gaze. And when he finally did, blue eyes meeting her green ones, Killian smiled. "Well thank you, Emma."


	2. Chapter 2

"Well, what do you think?"

The lilt of Killian's voice carried throughout the near empty thrift store, finally making it's way to Emma who was currently skimming through a rack of discount skinny jeans and leather pants.

If he had known what this place was, Emma likely would have been embarrassed. But being from a land of little material possessions, this place was equal to shopping on 5th Avenue for him. She knew that if Killian was going to make an attempt to fit in here, for however long his stay might be, they would have to immediately change his wardrobe (which had easily earned several puzzled side glances from people passing by).

"Not bad," she commented on his slightly saggy pants and oversized shirt before stuffing the pair of slightly worn skinny jeans and V-neck t-shirt into his open hands. "Here, try these on instead."

Killian huffed in frustration (his cries of "how much longer, Swan?" still echoing in her mind from over an hour ago), turning his back to her and sliding the curtain to the small dressing room shut. "I must say, love, you have some odd clothing choices in this realm."

His voice was muffled from behind the worn drapes and Emma tried her best to not think of his state of undress (and she was absolutely _not_ wondering exactly what he was hiding beneath that uniform, how it would feel to have his skin pressed against hers in the coolness of the night).

She shook her head, hoping all unhealthy feelings would fly out the window before giving a chuckle at his comment, a sarcastic remark quickly on the edge of her tongue. "As if your naval uniform fits in perfectly here."

"Touché."

The curtain flew open rapidly with his words and every coherent thought that Emma had previous had was now gone. Her jaw dropped as she scanned his form: from the dark boots on his feet, worn skinny jeans that hugged his thighs, tight v-neck that showed off the dusty chest hair beneath, velvety smooth leather jacket, and all the way up to his crooked yet shy grin.

And Emma stuttered like an idiot, feeling the knot in her stomach only growing tighter at the mere sight of him.

"See something you like, Swan?" His comment was a loaded question, because, when she finally glanced up to meet his eyes, the knowing look on his face told her that he knew (knew the effect he was having on her, that he looked inhumanly gorgeous in his new wardrobe).

Clearing her own throat, she smiled back, standing up to approach him. She grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket, giving them a little tug, a content hum lodged in the back of her throat. "It's perfect."

"Glad you approve, love."

She watched his confident grin suddenly fade, fingers going being his ear to scratch there nervously. "If I may, I have a question for you."

Emma nodded, urging him to continue, only for her eyes to grow slightly wide as he pulled out the article of clothing that he had hidden behind his back. "What is this thing?"

An uncontrollable giggle slipped out at the slight of the bra pinched between Killian's fingers, holding it far from his body as if he were a five year old boy who still believed in cooties.

"It's a bra," she explained, taking one last step towards him, her fingers going to his belt loop to tug him even closer. With her voice barely more than a whisper, Emma batted her eyes up at him. "And if you'd like, I'll show you what they're for when we get back to my place."

Her tone was full of promise and suggestion and, even if he didn't exactly know what the clothed item was for, she knew that he now had a pretty good idea. A jolt of lust shot quickly through her body as he swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

She smirked up at him, his breath fanning across her forehead, and he wrinkled his brow in question. "What?"

"You're blushing." With her words she kept one finger hooked tightly against his belt loop, the other reaching up to smooth over his reddened cheek.

"I am not."

He pouted, arms folded across his chest, bottom lip poking out slightly, and Emma ran her thumb across it without a second thought. "Don't worry, Killian. It's cute."

The last call from the front register informed the pair that it was closing time, pulling them out of whatever hypnotic trace that had pulled them both under, and Emma glanced down at her watch with a muttered curse. Grabbing his hand, she dragged him towards the front and finally out the door, her mind set on only one thing – home.

* * *

The room was dark when they stumbled inside, Emma kicking a box out of the way as she yanked the key out of the door, flicking on the lights with a huff. "Welcome to my humble abode. It's not much, but it's a place to live for the moment, so I can't complain."

The florescent lights buzzed to life, giving Killian the proper opportunity to scan her tiny one bedroom apartment. Boxes littered the floor, stacked high enough to almost touch the low ceiling. Clothes hung off of every object, as if a tornado had scattered them throughout the area, and the only sound (aside from the traffic outside) was the constant drip of the kitchen sink, which seemed that no matter how much it was tightened would never stop.

"For the moment?" Killian questioned, moving from her side to look around the combined living room and kitchen. He sniffed, the air filled with the smell of dust and burnt toast (which he quickly spotted in the overflowing garbage can).

Flopping down onto the single armchair in the room, a pile of magazines beneath her rear, Emma shrugged. "I have this bad habit of…"

"Running away?" he finished with question, turning back towards her.

"I'm that easy to read?"

Picking up the t-shirt hanging on top of her lamp, Killian straightened it up before folding it precisely, glancing up only to reply to her. "For the most part."

She watched him intently as he moved about her room, picking up one clothing item after another, almost as if on instinct. Even though this realm might have been different for him, he seemed to be at ease moving about her apartment, tidying up with content.

When she finally couldn't contain it any more, the smile covering her face so widely that Emma had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from giggling uncontrollably, she jokingly inquired, "Are…you folding my clothes?"

He turned red at his habit, dropping the now folded jeans from his hand onto the countertop along with the rest of the clothes he had managed to fold before she finally stopped him. "Sorry, love. Bad habit. Being a sailor has made me unnaturally tidy. It's in my blood."

Shaking her head, pure delight bubbling inside, Emma lifted herself out of the chair, approaching him and motioning around the room. "Well I can't afford a couch right now so all I have is my bed. And it would be rude of me to make company sleep on the floor."

His face grew serious, stern, and he quickly set his jaw tight in defiance. "Swan, I am not letting you sleep on the floor in your own home."

A magnetic pull, which could easily be mistaken for the sexual tension reverberating around the room, cause Emma to move closer, her hands reaching down to wrap around Killian's clenched fists. He slowly relaxed at her touch and she dropped her voice to a sultry tone, flickering her gaze up to his. "That's not what I was insinuating."

"Oh."

She could instantly tell that her forwardness had stunned him (which it shouldn't have because Emma had been flirting with him from the first moment her eyes connected with his blue ones). Her stomach turned when he nodded firmly, looking in any direction but hers.

Deciding to break the awkward tension, Emma stepped aside to rummage through her boxes, pulling out a pair of sweat pants and throwing them towards him. "It's just a bed. It's no big deal."

She said the words as if she were trying to convince herself of the fact.

Exhaling shakily, she decided it would be best to give him a moment alone to change (besides, she certainly needed a moment to calm her rapidly beating heart at the sight of sharing a bed with Killian). Grabbing her own pajamas, Emma rushed to the bathroom to change, slipping the door closed behind her.

Her hands gripped the small counter until her knuckles turned white. Emotions were overwhelming the blonde, and a million thoughts began to race through her lust-hazed mind. She might have seemed confident and dominating in front of Killian, but if she was being completely honest with herself, Emma was scared to death.

She had never trusted someone as easily as she had him. And, quite frankly, she didn't know why. Maybe it was his innocence - all tender eyes and soft smiles. His quiet chuckle did things to her that she had never felt from a mere sound before. But perhaps it was the fact that there was no denying they were kindred spirits of sorts. Two lost souls just looking for each other.

And somehow, amongst the crazy realms and years apart from one another, maybe they had finally found the person they had both been looking for all along.

Slipping into her nightgown – low cut to show her ample cleavage and hem high on thighs, exposing her long legs – Emma finally made her way back to the bedroom, only to find Killian sitting down awkwardly on the side of the bed. He had changed into the sweatpants and, surprisingly, opted to go shirtless.

Her throat hitched at the sight of his bare chest, lean and firm, dark hair matted upon it and she wanted nothing more than to run her fingers through it. Finally ripping her eyes away from his exposed skin, she glanced at his face to see that he had been doing the exact same thing to her, checking out her form and the tiny nightgown that left little to the imagination.

Giving a forced cough, just enough to snap both of them from their trance, Emma moved to her side of the bed, slipping under the covers and switching the bedside lamp off, blanketing the room in velvety darkness – the only light coming from the moonlight shadows that danced across the room.

"Goodnight, Killian," she whispered in his direction, hoping and praying that he would give in and lie down next to her.

His shaky breath gave him away as he softly spoke back. "Goodnight, Emma."

She felt the bed dip next to her, it's small size forcing him to come as close to her as he could without making physical contact. He was stiff, rigid in his posture, and she knew that he was nervous, practically holding his breath inside (afraid to breathe, to relax, to finally _let go_).

"You can touch me, you know?"

Her soft voice broke the quiet night, shattering the push and pull between them as to who would speak first. He shifted upon the squeaky mattress and Emma's heart rate increased as he turned towards her, turning until he was on his side facing her.

"That would be bad form, love."

Emma scoffed, rolling her eyes even though she knew he couldn't see her actions in the darkness of the bedroom. "You and your bad form. Come on, Jones. Live a little."

Reaching down, her hand found his, pulling it towards her. He jumped slightly in surprise when his fingertips touched her hip, but that didn't stop Emma from allowing his arm to wrap around her waist, hand on her lower back (burning through the thin fabric of her nightgown, fingers dancing across cautiously).

"Now see? Was that so bad?" she joked, sliding closer towards him and laying her own hand across his bare chest, the vibrations of his heart beat meeting her fingertips. His body shook against her own, muscles completely tense. "Breathe, Killian. It's all right. God, you act like you've never done this before."

And that's when it suddenly hit her – he hadn't.

This naïve sailor was strict and shy and utterly vulnerable, leaving it apparent to assume that he had never been with a woman before. Emma gasped in surprise, and even though she couldn't see his face, she knew that Killian's skin was probably red tinged from embarrassment.

"Oh my god. You're a virgin aren't you?" Emma winced at her own words and moved her head back to meet his gaze as best she could in the darkness.

He cleared his throat, hand still pressing against her lower back. "In my realm, or in my line of work precisely, we are to stick to the rules and be upstanding citizens. Bedding an unmarried woman would be-"

"Let me guess - bad form, right?" she interrupted with a soft laugh.

"Correct."

Nodding her head in understanding, Emma closed her eyes, hoping, praying that sleep would overtake her quickly, that she would be able to maintain the self-control he deserved. "Okay. I won't push you, Killian. I don't want to make you do something that you don't want to do."

And that's when Killian moved, taking her hand off of his chest and trailing it down to his already hardening cock. Emma gasped in surprise when her fingers trailed his length, warm and heavy, cupping him through the sweatpants she had loaned him, and Killian gave a dark chuckle in response.

"Feel that, Swan? You have no idea how much I want you." When she squeezed him lightly, Killian gave a groan, immediately reaching down to remove her hand and lace her fingers with his own. His other hand made contact with her cheek, thumb smoothing over her creamy skin and Killian's voice dropped down to barely a whisper, as if this was a secret meant only for her ears. "I'd very much like to kiss you now."

She shifted closer, nudging her knee between his legs and running her bare foot up his calf. Noses bumping against the other, Emma could feel his breath fanning over her mouth. "Here's a hint, Lieutenant. In this realm, you don't have to ask permission first."

The kiss was sweeter than anticipated and slower as expected. It was soft, but _god_ did Emma feel it all the way down to her toes, which easily curled in delight. His lips were divine and she began to wonder if she had ever been properly kissed in her previous encounters with the male form because _holy crap_ this was unlike anything she had ever experienced before (and with him being a virgin, she was sure the same statement applied to him).

She pulled him closer, their bodies touching from hip to shoulder, and Emma wiggled a little in his hold, trying to get him to move, to touch, to completely ravish her. Experimentally, Killian's hand finally left her waist, trailing up to her breasts, hardened nipples already visible through her thin nightgown.

He took one between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it lightly and twisting with caution. She gasped at the pleasure it brought, the burn starting throughout her body that left her panting, and he stiffened at the noises she made.

"If I do something wrong, Emma, please tell me." His voice was soft and worried, concern etched in his eyebrows as he pulled away. "I…I don't want to hurt you."

Emma's back arched, his hand now perfectly cupping her breast (and she knew that he was ready to feel her skin against his, the fabric barrier between them suddenly too much).

She pulled his lips down to hers, urging him to continue his ministrations. "Just don't stop."

His lips against hers tasted like heaven and she never wanted this moment to end (honestly believing that she could kiss him forever and never tire of it, an explosion of fire settling throughout her bones).

And when his tongue finally found hers, a whole new set of pleasure rolled through her body, like a spark ignites a fuse, heat burning deeply in her core (and _god_, she wanted him - on top of her, underneath her, inside of her, with her – consuming and taking, ravishing and loving, more than anything that she had ever felt before).

His hips angled against hers, fitting together perfectly, and Emma felt his very prominent arousal pushing against her thigh.

She moaned against his lips at the sensation, a sense of power and pleasure coursing through her veins knowing that she had caused that. Pulling back slightly, her lips moved against his with each word. "Oh God, didn't take you long."

He couldn't help the chuckle that emerged from his mouth, his hand experimentally finding new pieces of her skin to set afire. "Let's just say that I've been ready for awhile. Your revealing bedroom attire did nothing to help my situation."

She giggled, her hand tugging his hair, the ribbon at the base of his neck coming undone with a pull, causing his long locks to fall down around his face. It was different than she had expected, seeing his longer hair freed, but it did nothing to hide the blush that was creeping up his cheeks.

The light pink color on his cheeks quickly turned crimson red when Emma reached down to the hem of her nightgown and lifted it off her body in one quick movement, freeing her skin to his perusal, gorgeous breasts just begging to be devoured, leaving only her panties as a divider between them.

She didn't hesitate in grabbing his hand and guiding it to her breasts, nodding profusely and insisting that it was okay, that she wanted this (that she knew he did too). And then something inside Killian snapped, his mouth quickly latching onto one of her perky nipples, his teeth dragging against the skin and biting down to taste her.

Gasping in surprise, Emma's hand tightened in his hair, pushing his mouth further against her chest. He took the gesture as approval and licked a ring around the swollen bud, pulling back to blow gently onto it, causing her nipple to harden almost painfully.

Emma moaned in satisfaction and torture (for someone who had never been with a woman, Killian sure knew how to leave them writhing and wanting). And then, ever so slowly, his fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, and he glanced up at her, waiting for permission.

"Take them off," she insisted, nodding and biting down on her bottom lip so roughly it's a miracle that blood wasn't drawn.

He pulled them down torturously slow, finally baring her form to his eyes – from her curled toes to the golden locks perfectly framing her face (and her gloriously full breasts and core that was glistening with want in between).

"Beautiful," Killian remarked against her skin, his teeth sinking into her hipbone before pressing a kiss there to sooth away the mark.

"Never seen a naked woman before, Jones?"

"Aye, but not one so close before," he confirmed, crawling back to the top of the bed where she lay and pressing his lips to hers gently once more. "And definitely not one in my bed."

She smiled against his skin, her mouth leaving marks along his collarbone, nails digging into his bare back. The taste of the salty sea air was still faint on his skin and it only made her crave him all the more (she wanted nothing more than to run her tongue on every inch of his body, learning each special place that made him shudder beneath her touch).

With one leg hitched around his hip, she groaned at the contact between them, practically begging him for more.

"Please touch me," Emma insisted, taking his hand off of the breast he was currently kneading and guiding it down between her legs. They both sighed in pure bliss when his finger found her warm, wet flesh below, and he discovered her aching clit with surprising accuracy, slowly drawing his finger around the bundle of nerves and gathering the wetness there.

"Just like that," she encouraged with a gasp, her hips involuntary lifting towards him. "Small, light circles."

Killian's fingers continued his exploration of her, running his finger between her slick folds, his own eyes flickering shut (and she could tell that he was trying to have some restraint, some form of self-control). "Bloody hell, Emma. You're soaked."

"You're not the only one who's ready."

Her comment caused his fingers to halt their movements and Emma felt her heart stop for a fraction of a second (afraid that he would end this, that they had already taken things too far). His eyebrows scrunched together and she could see the wheels turning inside his head.

"Stop over thinking this, Killian," she urged quietly, the hand in his hair tugging him back towards her.

Instead of moving his mouth to hers, Killian moved his body towards her lower half, taking her right leg and slinging it over his shoulder. "I…I want to try something," he shyly admitted before blowing a cool stream of air onto her flesh that was drenched with desire.

She hissed at his actions, chills taking over her skin and eyes widening at the realization of what he was about to do (she had never had someone go down on her before; in the few times she had actually been with a man, none had taken the time to pleasure her like this, and the desire in Killian's eyes was like a hungry animal, ready to devour her most intimate of parts – and it scared the hell out of her).

He leaned forward, licking a long stripe through her folds, causing Emma to give a moan that was almost boarding on obscene.

"Is this alright?" Killian quickly questioned, his head popping up from between her legs, her arousal glistening around his mouth (and it was easily the most erotic thing Emma had ever seen, causing her to abruptly clench her thighs tighter around his head).

Lying back down on the bed, she exhaled deeply, willing herself to relax. "Trust me, you'll know if you're doing it right."

It was all the confirmation he needed before throwing a crooked grin her way and diving back in. He continued his assault on her aching flesh, alternating between flicking his tongue out against her clit and thrust his tongue between her folds.

"Killian. God, yes. Don't stop," she desperately pleaded, her hands placed firmly in his hair to hold his head in place.

"I wouldn't dream of it, love," he chuckled, the words sending vibrations and new sensations under her skin. "You taste so sweet."

A guttural groan ripped from her throat at his words, the dirty talk obviously having the desired effect on her. She felt like she was almost flying, her hips lifting off the bed and into his face, the burn that he had ignited inside only growing with intensity at each flick of his talented tongue.

And then, without warning, he sucked her clit into his mouth, holding the nub between his teeth, and Emma couldn't help but let loose at the sensation, her orgasm slamming into her with a force that she had never felt before (never by herself and especially not by another man – and she had no idea that it could feel this good, so good, _so, so good_). His tongue slowly brought her down, her breathing labored and skin already slick with sweat.

When she finally came back to her self, the first thing she saw was his anxious look (partly worried of her reaction of what he had just done to her and part pride knowing that he had triggered that rush of emotions inside of her).

"Who knew…a virgin…would be that skilled?" she managed to comment between each ragged breath.

He laughed (a boyish grin that made him look much too young came upon his face), climbing back up to the top of the bed to wipe the sweat from her forehead. "Let's just say I hear many a story aboard our ship."

With her hands wrapped around the back of his neck, she pulled his lips down to hers, moaning into his mouth and tasting herself on his tongue. He took his time exploring her mouth, one hand kneading her ass while the other lavished attention to her nipples that were practically straining for his touch. The pressure deep down in her belly began to build again and Emma knew she wouldn't last much longer.

She needed him inside her. Now.

They kissed with urgency, fiercely and passionately – as if this was going to be the only night they had.

Her hand met the waistband of his sweatpants, shoving them down and off as quickly as she could, allowing his erection to spring free. He awkwardly kicked the pants off as best as he could before her hand wrapped around his cock, squeezing the shaft and rubbing her thumb around the tip of him.

Her ministrations only occurred for a mere second, knowing that he wouldn't last very long if she kept it up (and with him being a virgin, she was surprised that he had already lasted as long as he did). Quickly pulling away from him, Emma scrambled to her nightstand, digging around inside until she found the square foil package that she desired.

Killian's brows knit in confusion, swallowing thickly when she used her teeth to rip open the object, only causing him to grow harder when her eyes never left his.

"This is a condom," she explained, taking it and rolling it onto his erection in one swift movement (an expert move that made her appear as if she had done this many times before). He flinched a little – partly in confusion and partly from the way her fingertips had brushed against his sensitive cock – releasing an unsteady breath and waiting for her to continue her explanations. "It's a way to prevent pregnancy."

"So I don't have to…?"

"Exactly," she nodded with a wicked smile, wrapping her legs around his waist and locking her ankles at his lower back. She licked the sweat away from his collarbone, trailing open mouthed kisses all the way up his neck and stopping just below his ear, whispering her words softly, like a seductive secret meant only for him. "I want you to come inside of me, Killian."

He trembled in her hold, a mixture of anxiety and need written upon his face. Her eyes watched his Adam's apple bob up and down and she gave him the moment he needed to control his breathing.

When it seemed that he had finally come to terms with the inevitable, Killian placed a tender kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"You ready?" she questioned, one hand placed firmly around his back, the other moving to push the too-long sweaty bangs out of his eyes. With a slow exhale through the nose, he nodded and Emma sucked her bottom lip into her mouth in anticipation, guiding him through the process. "Slowly at first."

His cock nudged her entrance before gradually inching his way inside, a slow thrust until he was buried in her to the hilt. When she winced at the feel of him stretching her walls, Killian jumped back (almost pulling out of her completely).

"Am I hurting you?" he inquired, fear written on his face (and Emma knew that he was having to hold himself together to not find his release right then; it was as if his concern for her overwrote his own pleasure).

"No, it's just been awhile," she explained with a grimace, trying her best to pull his body back into her until he was buried deeply inside her once again. "I have only done this a handful of times."

Giving her the moment she needed to adjust to his size, Killian pressed soft kisses to her cheek, her nose, her forehead, her eyelids (anything to distract him from the pressure that was threatening to release earlier than anticipated. And as much as this was supposed to be about him – it _was_ his first time after all – Killian wasn't going to let her go through this without getting some pleasure out of it as well).

Finally, Emma gave him the nod of confirmation that she was finally ready. "Now pull back out and push in again."

Killian did as he was instructed, slowly pulling out before sliding home once again, the rough drag of his cock against her walls caused Emma to moan with each thrust.

"Oh, yes. Just like that," she urged, clawing at his skin so roughly with each thrust that she knew he would have marks littered across his back in the morning. They easily found a rhythm, their bodies synchronized as if they were meant to do this, fitting together like missing pieces of a puzzle.

With each thrust, Killian's actions got faster and sloppier, finally reaching that spot inside her that had her seeing stars, the coil inside being wound tighter. Her back arched up into him, thighs trembling around him, gasping as he hit the spot over and over again, the old mattress beneath them squeaking with each of their movements. "God, Killian you feel so good inside me."

His thrusts became almost frantic with her words (and the shy little sailor from earlier was now gone, nowhere to be found – only leaving behind the man that had been in need of this for far longer than he knew).

"I'm…Emma – I'm not going to last much longer," he pleaded, hoping that she would find release before he did.

"It's okay," she insisted, reaching her own hand down to where they were joined, her finger grazing over her clit only twice before she fell (fast and all at once, white hot heat spreading throughout her body, gasping and pulling, the flood of emotions overwhelming her senses, spots forming behind her eyelids), her own orgasm triggering his as her walls spasmed around his sensitive cock.

Killian gave a groan with his release, collapsing down onto his forearms, being careful not to crush the woman that had just taken his virginity. They lay there, breathless and sated, for what felt like hours, just relaxing in each other's arms – the contentment all-consuming.

Finally, he pulled out of her, rolling onto his side and throwing the condom in the trashcan beside the bed. They were still a tangle of limbs, her arms looped around his neck and his knee wedged between her legs.

Feeling all senses returning back to himself, Killian grinned over at the woman lying down next to him, her afterglow only causing her to look even more radiant than before. His hand grazed her breast, only before pulling her closer with his question. "How was it?"

"I should be asking you that. It was your first time, after all," she murmured through a haze of lust, wiping the sweat from his brow with care.

He chuckled (the chuckle of a man who was _very_ happy – pleased with himself after being with a woman for the first time). "You were bloody brilliant, love."

"You weren't too bad yourself, Jones. Get some sleep." Emma gave a content sigh through her laugh, snuggling closer into Killian's side, her head placed gently on his chest where she gave a kiss before sleep pulled them both under.

* * *

She woke up to a startlingly familiar noise, one that made her stomach sink instantly. It caused her to jump, her hand immediately going to the side of the bed where Killian had slept – only to find it now cold and empty.

The few hours of sleep they had actually gotten together were some of the best in her life. She had never felt more content, safer, _home_. With his arms wrapped around her tightly, Emma never wanted to move, silently wishing that they would stay like this – limbs entwined tightly – forever.

But all the good feelings came crashing down the instant she stepped into her living room.

Seeing the other man standing on the opposite side of Killian, his hand outstretched towards him, a portal raging madly behind them in her kitchen, had Emma's heart both stopping and then pounding wildly in her ears.

Killian glanced back at the man behind him before turning towards Emma, the pain obviously written in his eyes (the look of a man who was torn, being forced to make a terrible decision).

Embarrassed by her lack of clothing (standing awkwardly with nothing on but Killian's t-shirt and her underwear), Emma tugged on the hem of the shirt, her eyes darting to the man (who, for some reason, looked so much like Killian) and then back to Killian, sweatpants hung low on his hips and chest still bare. The ends of her mouth tilted down when she realized that nothing about this situation looked good. "Killian, what's going on?"

His jaw hung slaw, searching for the right words as he looked towards her. "Emma. I-"

"Well, baby brother. You certainly didn't waste any time," the older man interrupted, clapping Killian's shoulder with a huge grin (and giving that manly wink-nudge as if he knew Killian had gotten laid).

The faint red blush made a reappearance on Killian's cheeks once again, obviously embarrassed from what the other man had said. He scratched nervously behind his ear (and the three stood there for a moment just staring at each other, almost oblivious to the portal that was still swirling in the background).

"Killian, who is this?" Emma finally asked, folding her arms across her chest (partly in defiance and partly because she wasn't wearing a bra at the moment).

Killian turned to the man, a smile on his face and a look of admiration in his eyes that could only mean one thing – family. "This is my older brother, Liam. He's come to take me back." Emma sucked in a breath at his words, biting down on her bottom lip so hard that she began to taste the metallic flavor of blood. Killian looked at her apologetically before continuing. "Back to my time, where I'm from, where I belong."

Emma had always been one to keep her emotions in check – years of being passed from family to family in the foster system had numbed any pain for her. But for some reason, Killian had been able to bring out those feelings again. He made her feel whole, special, _alive_.

But unfortunately good feelings are always accompanied by bad ones, and the pain that she had tried to block out for all of those years began to resurface. The tears pricked her eyes and her stomach clenched in fear. "I…I thought you belonged here. With me. Everything that happened last night - "

"Was real," Killian insisted, stepping away from Liam to approach Emma. "I've never cared for someone as I do you, darling."

And, for Emma, those words only made it that much more painful. The tears that had once stung were now freely flowing down her cheeks, and under normal circumstances she would have been embarrassed by the choked sob that escaped. But this was Killian. True, she had only met him yesterday, but for some reason there was a different feeling with him. They had made love, talked for hours; she had given him secrets that were normally locked tightly within the confines of her heart. And now he was breaking that heart.

"Then why are you leaving me?" Her voice was small and innocent, insides being ripped apart at the situation.

"Emma, I promise I will find you again. I promise." The pads of Killian's thumb wiped away at the tears staining her cheeks and she instinctively leaned into his touch (and touch she never wanted to leave, never wanted to forget, she relished the moment and took the opportunity to try to remember every detail – to remember the way she felt being held in his arms). He gave her a forced smile and she could see the tears beginning to form in his own blue eyes. "We will see each other again, love."

She stood there for a moment, wrapped in Killian's arms, his left hand rubbing soothing patterns across her back. From behind them, Liam cleared his throat, obviously disappointed that he had to ruin their last moment together. "Killian, the portal won't last much longer. It's time."

Slipping out of the embrace, Killian pressed his lips once last time to Emma's, and she felt more in that one kiss than she had in an entire lifetime. He slowly, reluctantly pulled apart, his forehead's pressed against Emma's as he spoke his last words to her before turning, grabbing his uniform, and going through the portal with his brother.

"I promise, Emma."

* * *

It was years later – her glasses exchanged for contacts and her ponytail forgone for curls – that she finally connected with those same blue eyes once more.

She never would have expected to find him under the pile of dead bodies, his left hand now missing for a hook in a satchel, but the second he looked up at her a flood of emotions ran through Emma that she had not experienced since the moment that they were last together in her kitchen.

He smiled, cheeky grin covering his face in obvious happiness before wrapping his arms around the stunned Emma, his words a whisper in her ear. "I was hoping it would be you."


End file.
