They arrived at The Leaky Cauldron to a moderately grumpy innkeeper who was just about to go to bed. He directed them to a spacious and somewhat drafty room on the third floor, gestured toward a pile of firewood in the corner, and bowed his way out, closing the door behind him.
"Brrr." Emma rubbed her hands up and down her arms.
"Give me a moment, love - I'll just build up the fire."
Killian got down on one knee, piling logs into formation. He turned, glancing around.
"What are you looking for?" Emma asked.
He looked over his shoulder at her. "Well, I don't see a coal pail or matches - how the devil does he expect us to light a fire?"
Emma pulled out her wand. "Magic...remember?" She stepped forward. "There's a word you use for the spell but when you get older you can just think what you want. I think."
She closed her eyes, concentrating, and pointed her wand at the logs. They burst into flame with an enormous roar, sending Killian tumbling backwards into her and knocking her down onto the carpet next to him.
"Damn!" he exclaimed. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"Sorry," she mumbled. "Guess I'm more powerful than I thought." She glanced over at him, and her eyes went wide. She clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle the laughter, but it didn't work. She collapsed on the carpet, rolling over and holding her stomach, she was laughing so hard.
"What?" he asked, grinning widely at her good humor. "My near-death experience was amusing, was it?"
"Your - " she stopped, panting and laughing some more. "Your eyebrows are smoking!"
"What!" He reached up, slamming his hand against them, then howled when he caught himself in the corner of the eye with one of his rings. "Bloody hell!" He fell backwards, rolling next to her on the carpet. Emma leaned up on an elbow over him.
"Let me see," she said reaching out to pry his hand from his eye.
"No," he groaned.
"Come on...I didn't mean to nearly burn you alive," she said. "Now, let me look." She pried his fingers off and he squinted up at her.
"These brows are known across the realms, I'll have you know," he complained.
"Oh, I have no doubt."
"And I know several tavern wenches who would have your head for gouging out my eye."
She gave him a look. "You gouged your own eye. And I know all about your tavern wench following. I've been one, remember?"
He reached up, tucking her hair behind her ear. "So you have. But they're well in the past love, since you came along."
Emma gave him a smile, but it was forced. He watched her curiously as she pushed herself to her feet.
"You can have the bed," she said. "I'll just curl up here by the fire." She reached out to pull the folded comforter off the bottom of the bed, and Killian gained his feet, straightening up slowly. He reached out and put his hand on her arm as she tried to spread the blanket on the carpet.
"What's this about?" he asked gravely. "Since when are you afraid of sharing a bed with me?"
"I..." Emma looked down, refusing to meet his eyes. "I just think maybe we need some distance tonight. That's all."
"Distance." She could feel his eyes burning into her but she still wasn't looking at him.
"It's been a long night - "
"All the more reason for you to climb into a soft bed," Killian said reasonably. He lifted her chin, forcing her face up. "Look, if you don't want me to touch you, you only have to say so. I've never forced myself on a woman in my life."
She brought her eyes up, startled. "I didn't think you would."
"Then what's the problem? After all you and I have been through - together - why the distance? Why tonight?"
She walked over to the bed, sinking down on it. "Because Henry was right."
"Henry?"
"Well, not Henry. The boggart."
"This is about that...thing?" Killian sat down next to her. "It wasn't even real, Swan."
"It was real enough. A boggart knows your deepest fears and transforms itself to play on them. And he was right on target with mine." Emma dropped her head back. "I did want Neal out of the way. Not like that, of course, but I did."
He reached over, taking her hand. "And I'm supposed to judge you for that, love? The boggart was right about me, too. I'd have never wished Neal dead, but I wanted him out of the way."
"Yeah, but not for the same reason," she said. She pushed her hands between her knees, and rocked for a moment in uncomfortable silence while she gathered her thoughts.
"I wanted him gone because I knew I couldn't love him like he wanted me to," she said.
Killian turned to look at her. "There's no shame in that. You can't help what you feel."
"Or don't feel," she said. "I didn't feel that way about him because - " she broke off, biting her lip and shaking her head, as if unable to continue. Killian reached out, taking her hand.
"Go on," he said.
She took in a deep breath, and let the words flow out in a rush. "Because I don't think I can love anyone that way. I don't have the capacity for deep, romantic, true love."
He quirked a brow. "You don't think," he said, lifting her hand to his lips. "But you don't know, either."
"No, I know, all right. And that's the problem."
He looked at her steadily. "Because you're soon to be out of here and you don't think you can wake me when you get back."
Emma's eyes filled with tears and her voice broke as she answered him. "What if I can't?"
He stroked her knuckles with his thumb, watching the play of his fingers over hers. "Then you can't."
"You shouldn't have done this."
His eyes met hers again. "But I did. And I didn't do it out of any hope that you'd feel obligated enough to love me for it. I may have been a villain most of my life, but even I know that's not how love works."
She shook her head. "I know after all we've been through - there and here - it seems like this should be a no-brainer, but it's just not. Not for me."
"Well," he said with an overly-loud sigh, "It never is easy for you, love. And I would prefer that when you do make a decision, you do it with your brain as well as your heart. One without the other usually leads to disaster."
"I don't want you stranded here," she whispered.
"If we can get rid of Morpheus, it won't be all bad," he said. "I'll just find my way to you every night. I'll probably have more time with you that way than I ever got in Storybrooke."
He gave her a crooked grin, and she was lost.
"Killian..." she didn't know what to say, so she slid her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. His lips met hers, and his body kept going. She went down on her back, unresisting. It didn't take long before their clothing was out of the way and their bodies were straining against each other as their mouths met and hands moved over skin, tracing patterns of fire with every stroke and caress.
They rolled across the bed, and Emma came down on top of him, her hair forming a curtain around him, enclosing them in their own private world. She looked down at him as if memorizing his features, her fingers touching the planes of his face.
"Could it be like this," she asked, "Out of here?"
His lips met hers softly. "Ah, love," he murmured. "It can be better."
She slid herself down on him slowly, savoring every inch of him, her breath coming out in a long, slow exhale as she finally settled on him, pulling him in deep. His hand stroked her thigh and hip as she moved on him in a slow, sensual dance, her body taking over where her words failed her, and he gave back in equal measure.
He sat up, pulling her against him, his arms wrapping around her as their bodies slid and moved against each other. Emma let out a moan at the feel of his chest hair rubbing on her breasts and the incredible heat of him inside her, filling her as she held him fiercely, losing herself in the moment and in him. And when the pleasure swept them both away, she buried her face in his neck, sobbing.
He shifted, pulling her down next to him, his hand stroking soothingly on her back. "It's all right," he said, kissing her face, pushing her hair back. "It's all right."
She quieted eventually, and moved over to lay her head on his chest, and in time, she drifted off to sleep.
He held her tightly, wrapping his arms around her and giving himself up to slumber.
###
When he woke the next morning, Emma was already up and she had two large bowls of oatmeal, a teapot, and a platter of toast and sausages waiting for him on the table near the fire.
He ran a hand through his mussy hair as he sat up in bed.
"What's this?" he asked, yawning widely.
"Breakfast," she answered. "I figured we'd better eat while we can. Once we get what we're looking for, there's no telling where it'll take us."
"This...'liquid luck', as you call it - how does it work, exactly?"
"It's just like the name implies," Emma said. "You drink it, and just about anything you want to do works out for you somehow."
"We could have used that a good dozen dreams ago," he said, pulling on his pants before he walked over and joined her at the table.
"Tell me about it." She poured him a cup of tea and pushed the platter of food at him. "Now eat up. We've got a day full of magic ahead of us."
Right after breakfast, they made their way to the back exit of the Leaky Cauldron, and out into the courtyard. A large trash receptacle stood against one side of the wall, and Emma stared at it in dismay.
"Crap."
"What's the matter now?"
"You have to tap the right brick to get the entrance to open."
Killian raised his brows. "And you've no idea which one, I take it?"
Emma shook her head. "Nope. It's up and over from the garbage can but I can't remember how many."
Killian pulled out his wand, stuffing it between his teeth. Then he reached into his pocket and found the compass. He held it out toward the wall, waving it left, right, up, and down, and then finally he put it away, took the wand and tapped a stone. That did nothing, so he tapped the stone next to it. Suddenly, the bricks began to move, and within a few seconds, the archway leading into Diagon Alley appeared.
"The compass told you which brick to poke?" Emma asked.
"No." Killian shrugged. "It didn't show me a thing. I just took my best guess and planned on tapping each one until it worked."
"So you got lucky."
He grinned. "Perhaps we don't need that potion after all."
She smiled back. "Well, just in case your luck doesn't hold...let's find Weasley's."
Killian pointed through the archway. "Could that be it - the building with the large "W" and the fireworks going off overhead?"
"That'd be it."
They walked down the cobbled streets, watching the merchants as they turned over "Open" signs in their windows and set out merchandise for the shoppers to peruse. The smell of fresh, hot scones filled the air as they pushed open the door to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.
"Morning!" Two voices called out in unison. Emma's face lit up in a delighted grin. "They're both here!" she whispered to Killian.
"And why wouldn't they be?" he whispered back.
"I hate to spoil it for you, but Fred dies in the last book," she whispered, her eyes darting over to the brothers.
"This is Henry's dream, love. He can have anyone in it he wants to have," Killian pointed out.
"Hi!" Emma called back. "We're looking for a special potion."
"You came to the right place," said George. "We've got a large range of potions to cover any need."
"We might be able to find something fun for your arm," Fred said, pointing at Killian. "I have a whole variety of attachments that we can adapt." He leaned in close, waggling his eyebrows.
"I like his thinking," Killian said raising a brow in response.
"Can we get back to the subject at hand?" Emma asked in exasperation. "We need some liquid luck."
"Felix Felicis?" George looked startled. "That's not easy to get. Terribly tricky to make."
"And a complete life-ruiner if you get a bad batch," Fred added.
"So hook us up with a good batch," Emma replied.
"It'll cost you," George said.
"Fifteen galleons," Fred said, unlocking a small cabinet behind the register.
Killian put a pile of gold on the counter, and Emma looked over at him suspiciously.
"Do I even want to know?" she asked in a low voice.
"Just go with it, Swan," he said between his teeth as he smile back.
Fred set the small bottle on the counter as George transferred the gold to the register.
"You've got enough there for twelve hours, give or take," George informed them.
"That'll be fine," Emma said, pocketing the potion. "And thanks. It was great meeting both of you." She pulled Killian with her out the door.
"Our reputation precedes us, Georgie," Fred said, smiling.
George leaned a hip against the counter. "Not surprised at all Fred. We're amazing, if I do say so myself."
###
Emma stopped in front of Honeydukes, pulling the bottle from her pocket. She reached out to unstopper it, and Killian put a hand on her arm.
"Shouldn't you wait until we get back to the castle?" he asked.
"Nope. The sooner we find some luck, the better."
She tipped the bottle to her lips, and drank. Killian watched her carefully.
"Well?" he said.
Emma smiled, a slow, goofy smile. "We need to talk to Henry again." She grabbed his arm, pulling him along. "Come on, you've got a fat lady to charm."