Rating: Mature to start with, some later chapters will probably end up being explicit.
Warnings: Abduction, Ransom, Mortal Peril.
Summary: One night, in every corner of every magical realm, every boy aged nine to seventeen disappeared. Not one remained. That was when Pan made himself known to the realms, and from that night the eve of every boy’s ninth birthday meant their disappearance, until finally the realms demanded to know what he wanted to return their children to them. Pan told them he wanted the saviour, and while most realms were confused Snow and David knew what he meant and confessed the role their daughter was supposed to have played in breaking the curse. The realms voted and agreed to Pan’s terms, and Pan stopped taking the realms sons, holding the children he’d currently taken as insurance of their compliance. For the next fifteen years Emma’s birthday wasn’t a celebration, it was another tick on the countdown clock to the end of her freedom. Not that she was ever free in the first place, but to save every male child in the United Realms including her younger brother, Leo… She understood that she had a job to do, and she would do her duty with her head held high. What she didn’t count on was the sparkling blue eyes of the man Pan sends to escort her to Neverland in time for her twenty-first birthday.
Notes: Thanks to the @neverlandnewyear mods for running this event again, and to @kmomof4 for the amazing work you have done bringing this fic up to scratch. Once again, not sorry about the cliff-hanger last week, but there’s some nice stuff in this one to make up for it, among other things and Emma’s time with Pam begins. Link to AO3 is down there somewhere!
“Swan, get below, now!” he ordered, but before she could reply, obey, or even think about moving, a piece of his ship knocked her off balance. He was reaching for her as she stumbled, but then a wave had him gripping the helm like his life depended on it and he could do nothing but watch as she was pressed back against the side of the ship and scream as she fell overboard.
“EMMA!” he bellowed, his voice laced with panic.
He didn’t even think as he ripped off his coat, stuffing it down the hatch into his cabin as the sound of her scream cut off abruptly but before she’d even hit the water.
Rating: Mature to start with, some later chapters will probably end up being explicit.
Warnings: Abduction, Ransom, Mortal Peril.
Summary: One night, in every corner of every magical realm, every boy aged nine to seventeen disappeared. Not one remained. That was when Pan made himself known to the realms, and from that night the eve of every boy’s ninth birthday meant their disappearance, until finally the realms demanded to know what he wanted to return their children to them. Pan told them he wanted the saviour, and while most realms were confused Snow and David knew what he meant and confessed the role their daughter was supposed to have played in breaking the curse. The realms voted and agreed to Pan’s terms, and Pan stopped taking the realms sons, holding the children he’d currently taken as insurance of their compliance. For the next fifteen years Emma’s birthday wasn’t a celebration, it was another tick on the countdown clock to the end of her freedom. Not that she was ever free in the first place, but to save every male child in the United Realms including her younger brother, Leo… She understood that she had a job to do, and she would do her duty with her head held high. What she didn’t count on was the sparkling blue eyes of the man Pan sends to escort her to Neverland in time for her twenty-first birthday.
Notes: Thanks to the @neverlandnewyear mods for running this event again, and to @kmomof4 for the amazing work you have done bringing this fic up to scratch. I’m not sorry for last weeks cliffhanger at all, but I’d love to hear what you this about this weeks chapter! Link to AO3 is down there somewhere!
The door crept slowly open with barely a squeak of its well oiled hinges.
The footsteps on the wooden floorboards were barely audible over the swell of the sea around the hull.
The figure navigated around the sloppily discarded clothing and towards the bed where the blankets lay over a sleeping body.
Slowly, quietly, the figure drew a knife from the inside of its cloak, and surveyed the sleeping captain with curiosity.
He leaned over and brought the knife up under the captain’s chin, pointing the dutifully cared for blade at the pirate’s throat.
He would end this insanity once and for all, and he would do it now, while everyone else was asleep. And before anyone realised what had happened, it would all be over.
Rating: Mature to start with, some later chapters will probably end up being explicit.
Warnings: Abduction, Ransom, Mortal Peril.
Summary: One night, in every corner of every magical realm, every boy aged nine to seventeen disappeared. Not one remained. That was when Pan made himself known to the realms, and from that night the eve of every boy’s ninth birthday meant their disappearance, until finally the realms demanded to know what he wanted to return their children to them. Pan told them he wanted the saviour, and while most realms were confused Snow and David knew what he meant and confessed the role their daughter was supposed to have played in breaking the curse. The realms voted and agreed to Pan’s terms, and Pan stopped taking the realms sons, holding the children he’d currently taken as insurance of their compliance. For the next fifteen years Emma’s birthday wasn’t a celebration, it was another tick on the countdown clock to the end of her freedom. Not that she was ever free in the first place, but to save every male child in the United Realms including her younger brother, Leo… She understood that she had a job to do, and she would do her duty with her head held high. What she didn’t count on was the sparkling blue eyes of the man Pan sends to escort her to Neverland in time for her twenty-first birthday.
Notes: A huge, huge thank you to @kmomof4 for betaing this for me, and for being super supportive while I’ve been tearing my hair out over this. Thank you to the @neverlandnewyear mods for running this event again, I have had so much fun writing this! I won’t be posting whole chapters on tumblr because they are so damn long… but there’s a link to the full chapter on AO3!
Rating: Mature to start with, some later chapters will probably end up being explicit.
Warnings: Abduction, Ransom, Mortal Peril.
Summary: One night, in every corner of every magical realm, every boy aged nine to seventeen disappeared. Not one remained. That was when Pan made himself known to the realms, and from that night the eve of every boy’s ninth birthday meant their disappearance, until finally the realms demanded to know what he wanted to return their children to them. Pan told them he wanted the saviour, and while most realms were confused Snow and David knew what he meant and confessed the role their daughter was supposed to have played in breaking the curse. The realms voted and agreed to Pan’s terms, and Pan stopped taking the realms sons, holding the children he’d currently taken as insurance of their compliance.
For the next fifteen years Emma’s birthday wasn’t a celebration, it was another tick on the countdown clock to the end of her freedom. Not that she was ever free in the first place, but to save every male child in the United Realms including her younger brother, Leo… She understood that she had a job to do, and she would do her duty with her head held high. What she didn’t count on was the sparkling blue eyes of the man Pan sends to escort her to Neverland in time for her twenty-first birthday.
Notes: A huge, huge thank you to @kmomof4 for betaing this for me, and for being super supportive while I’ve been tearing my hair out over this. Thank you to the @neverlandnewyear mods for running this event again, I have had so much fun writing this! I won’t be posting whole chapters on tumblr because they are so damn long… but there’s a link to the full chapter on AO3! I know you probably don’t believe at this point, but there is a happy ending, I promise!
The next morning, Emma was awoken by a knock on the door. The night before, she’d sat in the library, alone with her thoughts, until the flames had dimmed to embers and then she’d made her way through the dark castle to her chambers. She didn’t feel like she’d had any sleep, but she forced herself to call out and accept the intrusion into her solitude.
Her maid came in wearing a gentle smile as she set the tray on the dressing table and moved to open the drapes as Emma rolled out of bed and saw to business behind the screen before returning to bed and sitting up against the pillows.
“Her majesty thought you might not want to attend breakfast with everyone else this morning,” she said as she brought the tray over to the bed.
Normally, unmarried young ladies were expected to attend breakfast with everyone else. It was only once you were married you had the right to breakfast in bed. She’d never minded having to rise to join the household, but Emma would never get that post-marriage luxury, and apparently Snow realised this concession- just this once- was more than earned.
“Thank you, Delilah,” she said quietly as she surveyed the spread in front of her. She started to pick at it as the maid moved around the room, getting out the items they were going to need to get her ready, checking what was to go in the last trunk. They’d had things packed for weeks, clothes that Snow had custom ordered for her daughter that were more practical than anything Emma tended to wear on a day to day basis.
Thick breeches and tall boots, comfortable shirts that would fit under an over corset that fastened just at the front. Emma was going to have to get used to dressing herself, doing her own hair. Delilah had been giving her lessons for the last couple of months at Emma’s request, too. Tailored jackets that would keep out whatever weather Emma was going to encounter. Layers had been the name of the game; life at sea meant swinging between harsh winds and burning sunshine and they didn’t want her to get caught unprepared. No expense had been spared- Emma would still look more than a commoner, but she would be dressed practically for life on a ship…
After today at least.
Today was another matter entirely. Emma was not looking forward to putting on the dress they’d designed for today.
It wasn’t even in the room yet and Emma could feel the weight of it pressing down on her. The people were going to be lining the streets to see her today and her parents had insisted that she was going to look her best. The only thing she’d be missing was a tiara, there was no point in taking a tiara to Neverland. She wouldn’t be attending any balls there, she was sure.
When Emma had eaten as much as she could, Delilah took the tray away and told Emma her bath would be ready for her. Moving like one facing a firing squad, Emma crossed her room and opened the door to her bathroom. The room was full of scented steam and she lowered herself into the tub with a sigh. She didn’t know what the bathing facilities would be like on the ship so having a good bath now was probably the best idea they’d had. She reclined in the hot water and let her worries seep out with the steam for a moment before Delilah came back in. She washed her body and hair, and stepped into the towel that was held up for her, drying herself quickly and putting on her robe.
In the short time she’d been out of her room, it had transformed into a bustling hive of activity. Final packing took place as she was dressed in the appropriate undergarments before the two largest trunks were whisked from the room. She sat in the chair in front of her mirror and for the last time in her life, she let the servants get to work on her appearance, nodding in agreement at suggestions and turning her head when she was directed.
Emma watched as the exhaustion from her lack of sleep disappeared beneath powders and potions carefully applied to highlight her features. Her hair was dried and curled, twisted and pinned up onto her head. Regal and youthful but with the sea wind taken into account for later, flowers took the place of a tiara, the variety of middlemist that had been created for her birth following the evil queen’s defeat.
From the neck up, she looked every inch the princess she’d been born as, just as her people would expect to see.
They cleared everything away, the items she would be taking with her packed into the last case that remained and then it, too, was taken out of the room to join the rest on the cart that Roland was taking down to the docks.
Most of the maids left, and when the door opened again, her mother was standing there, dressed demurely but regally. She would not be making the trip down to the docks. Behind her, the dress Emma was to wear was being carried by three maids.
Emma swallowed and stood up, dipping her head as she dipped her knees in deference to her queen.
“You look beautiful, darling,” Snow said softly, her hand ghosting across Emma’s cheek. She wanted to turn into it, to let the emotions out and sob and beg her mother not to make her go.
But she didn’t. The time for all that had passed long ago. Now she could only move forward, accepting her fate.
Snow waved her hand and the dress came in. Emma stepped into stockings, riding breeches and boots. She lifted her arms for her corset to be put on, letting them lace it up and squeeze the breath out of her. And then came the actual dress.
It was a mountain of ivory tulle with gold embroidery. The family crest was mixed in with middlemist and buttercups and twisting vines over the layers of ruching and poof. It had an off the shoulder neckline without sleeves and Emma was handed sheer gloves that had been endowed with a warming charm to keep off the chill. They added jewellery, dangling earrings and a heavy necklace.
When Emma finally looked up at her mother, Snow had tears in her eyes, and held her hand delicately in front of her face, lost for words.
Emma realised now that this was how Queen Snow had hoped to see her on her wedding day. That this was the one chance they were both going to get to see her like this.
She stepped forward and took both her hands, looking her in the eyes as she spoke. Eyes that were so alike in colour and how they showed just a slice of their hearts.
“I am unspeakably proud of you, Emma. You are so much more than I ever could have dreamed, and I promise that this kingdom is never going to forget what you’re doing for us today,” she vowed, her voice tight and her eyes swimming with tears.
Emma didn’t hesitate to believe her mother. How could she do anything but? This was the woman who had defeated the evil queen by refusing to stoop to her level. If there was anyother way out of this, Snow White and Prince Charming would have taken it.
But there wasn’t.
Emma squeezed her mother’s hands and nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Snow turned and looked at them in the mirror in front of Emma. The only thing she was missing was a veil, but that would have been too much, too poignant.
Snow pressed a kiss to her temple and released her hands.
“I’ll see you downstairs,” she murmured quietly, leaving Emma alone.
She just needed a minute, a minute to take this in, the last time she was really going to look like a princess.
She’d been stupid to allow even a sliver of hope that something would happen to stop this to take root, and now she was going to have to let that hope break her heart with every step towards that damn pirate ship.
CS Neverland New Year 2022: “Hearts Like Wildflowers”
Summary: He was used to the darkness until she brought light into his life with her wild blonde curls and prickly attitude. Even on this godforsaken island, she manages to make him feel alive. (Canon Divergent from 3x06)
A/N: this is my contribution to @neverlandnewyear. This is my first time participating in this event, and I couldn’t be more excited to share this story with all of you! Hope you like it!
He didn’t plan to kiss her again, but it happened anyway.
They have been wandering the jungle for hours. They were still trying to locate Pan’s hideout and had split up from the others, which, if anyone had listened to him, was a bad idea.
The air is so steamy and humid it feels like it’s raining. Her blonde ponytail has doubled in size, with soft curls springing everywhere. It fascinates him a bit as he follows her, trying to figure out how to get her to let him take the lead. Even if he is enjoying the view. Now he’s convinced he can’t get them more turned around than they already are.
“Hey, you hear that? It’s a nightingale, supposedly a symbol of love and anticipation,” he says, trying to make conversation and keep his voice matter-of-fact, standing still. She turns to look at him and starts back in his direction, and he has no idea if she wants to punch him or just walk past him because they have passed that moss-ridden rock three times already.
But her foot catches on something when she almost makes it in front of him, and she stumbles. Her hand reaches out, landing against his chest. He puts his hand and hook on her arms to steady her. She looks up at him, her green eyes wide, and her lips slightly parted. She is very, very close to him.
Oh, bloody hell, he thinks with a harsh intake of breath. Then his hand and hook on her arms draw her against him, and he closes his eyes and kisses her.
He feels her stiffen against him, but only for a brief second before she relaxes. His lips brush hers gently at first. Then she opens her mouth to him, her tongue meeting his eagerly. His heart hammers in his chest and he buries his hand in her hair. She touches his face and he groans into her, his hook in the meantime has found its way to her waist, pulling her closer.
He kisses her harder, and she keeps kissing him back. That initial rush of adrenaline begins to fade, and he gentles the kiss. Nibbling at her lips with his. Until his mouth separates from hers, leaving them both gasping. He presses his forehead to hers, his eyes still closed, his stomach full of strange nerves. He thinks that once he can catch his breath, he is going to do it again.
But a second later, his arms are empty. She’s gone. He opens his eyes and sees she’s pulled away. Her lips are damp and swollen, and he starts to reach for her again, but then he sees that her eyes are frowning and confused. She’s breathing heavily, too, but has one arm wrapped around her stomach.
The thrill of excitement bubbling in his chest turns to dread and disappointment. Even as his instinct is to fight it.
“Come on, that was a good kiss,” he says. “You were as into it as I was.”
She looks at him like he’s gone insane.
Maybe he could have said something else instead. Something more… romantic?
But he can’t stop looking at her. The tangled mess his fingers made of her hair. How green her eyes are in this godforsaken place. How soft he knows her lips are now.
“Oh, no,” she says warningly. “Do not start looking at me like that.”
“I wasn’t looking at you,” he lies blatantly. Defensively. Because he does not understand this at all. That was a damn good kiss, and why the hell is she acting this way when all he wants to do is kiss her again?
“Go make other friends, Killian,” she says, biting off his name. The name she’s never, ever called him. “You don’t need me.”
“What if I do?”
She walks around in a little circle, like she’s trying to figure out what to say, and then she walks up to him. She says in a low, small, dangerous voice, “Every man I’ve been with only wanted one thing from me. My boyfriend left me in jail and proposed to another woman. The last man I kissed died in my arms. You are still hung up on your revenge and in love with-”
“I’m not,” he interrupts.
“Of course, Hook,” she says, calm, hard, not believing a word. “Of course you’re not.”
“Then what do you want?” he demands. “Right now. Who do you want to be with?”
“Maybe I’ll just be alone for a while,” she says. “Maybe some people are meant to be alone.”
“Maybe so, but you’re not one of them.”
She just looks at him. Almost pleading with him.
He hears what she isn’t saying. He understands. “You’re scared of getting hurt. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You’re so desperate for a connection that you’ll go after the first one who comes along. Even if it’s me.”
“You’re breaking my heart,” he says, sarcastic. Because she’s touched a nerve, and all that excitement he had a minute ago turns into anger. He wouldn’t go after just anyone. It’s her that he wants.
“Go away, Hook,” she says. She raises her arms above her, fixing her hair, preparing to walk away.
“I don’t give up that easily.”
“I guess we’ll find out who’s more stubborn, then.” She twists her hair into a knot and secures it.
He gives her his very best smile, because he loves a challenge like that. He sees it having the desired effect on her. “You’ve already come with me on this search party,” he points out. “And we both know that was one hell of a good kiss.” He slides over to her, nice and slow, right into her space, so close he thinks he can feel her breathing. She doesn’t move.
“Bye, Hook.” She’s still not walking away.
“Friends with benefits?” he offers. He brushes back one of the long locks of her hairs that has already escaped from its knot.
“How about just friends,” she counters, even as she is breathless with anticipation.
“For now,” he says. She meets his gaze, and he kisses her again. She leans in to him, pressing her body against his, and it’s all he can do not to snake his hand underneath her shirt. But instead, he opens his mouth and lets her do the work. She’s kissing him relentlessly, for someone who has just made so much noise about not being the least bit interested and wanting to be alone.
He’s hard and aching, and he wants so badly to touch her. It wouldn’t take much to have this turn into a good lay in the jungle, but he knows if that happens, he will lose her. And he can’t afford to lose her right now, not when he’s stranded on this damned island again with the bloody hero squad. She’s not wrong that he doesn’t want to be alone.
So he keeps his hand and hook off, and when the kiss dies down, he ends it with several impossibly soft little closed-mouth kisses. Neither of them wants this moment to end. But it does, and this time he lets her go when she pulls away and disappears into the trees.
“Bloody hell.” He shakes his head at himself, wondering what in the hell he’s going to do next.
-/-
He finds his way back. After a long, cold bath in the creek. Then he goes to the treehouse. The Queen made it clear that he and his “pirateness” are not welcome to socialize with her, but he does have to eat.
He skips the “spot for heroes” with Dave and Snow tonight and turns to a lone fallen branch. He grabs a mango and some dried pork they gathered from his ship. From his seat furthest from Tinkerbell’s house, he can see the entire camp. He sits there, watching and waiting.
Finally, Emma shows up. She has not had a bath. Her hair is still tangled and fuzzy, and she’s sweating. Making him think that she’s just stumbled in from the jungle, and wasn’t just lurking around, confirming his theory about her sense of direction. There’s a smudge of dirt in the shape of his thumbprint on her cheek.
He watches her grab some food as well; her hands are full of all kinds of fruits, dried meat, and a coconut for drink. Running around in the jungle makes a lass hungry, apparently. She accepts the canteen her father offers her and takes a few big gulps from it. She sits down with her parents, not even looking up from the bounty in her hands, and he watches her start with the dried meat.
He pretends not to notice that her eyes look a little red-rimmed.
He slinks away from the camp, then, with mission accomplished. He just needed to know that she made it back safe.
-/-
The next morning, they all meet for breakfast by the tree house, as has become their usual practice. He keeps looking at Emma, but she is looking anywhere but at him. Mostly she seems interested in the bottom of her wooden cup.
“I’ll go with David and Mary Margaret today,” she says, and when he glances at her again, she is staring into space in his general direction.
“Guess it’s you and me, little fairy,” he says to Tinkerbell, who rolls her eyes heartily at the new nickname.
They head out, and Killian can’t help thinking about Emma and her parents and what they’re up to out there at the same time. He wonders what she’s thinking about.
“You make it with her yet?” Tinkerbell asks, out of the blue.
“How’s that lost magic treating you?” Killian shoots back.
“Wings.”
“What?”
“I lost my wings,” she raises her arms in a wave as though to demonstrate.
“Congratulations, Birdy, why are we having this conversation?” He snaps. It’s hot, there’s no trail, and he’s suddenly worried that he’s so transparent that even magic wingless Tinkerbell can see right through him.
“Baelfire is alive and back. You need to seal the deal or you’re going to lose her.”
“I’m not worried.” He is very worried, especially with her reaction to what happened yesterday. And he’s not going to correct the fairy that he can’t lose her if he hasn’t even had her in the first place.
“Maybe you should be, Hook.”
“Well, I’m open to suggestions,” he says, still aggravated.
Tinkerbell shrugs.
“That’s what I thought. How about you work on getting your wings back, then?”
“I will,” she says, the verbal equivalent of another shrug.
Killian looks at her sternly. He doesn’t understand at all.
“No, you won’t. Because if you could, you would have a long time ago, isn’t that right?”
“Nope.” She sounds so nonchalant. Killian can see she’s lying. Good at it, but lying. This makes Tinkerbell uncomfortable.
And then he sees it. Files the knowledge away for later.
“You can be my backup plan, little fairy,” he offers, and she laughs.
But he knows Tinkerbell isn’t wrong.
-/-
The Hero Squad organizes a lot of extracurricular activities. Replenishing water supplies. Scouting their paths. Hunting for meat.
Collecting anything that is edible.
In which Killian made the mistake of letting the royal couple and Emma join him when he could’ve accomplished the task by himself, just fine.
Because when, for the umpteenth time that afternoon, he smacks the blue fruits out of her hand and warningly says, “The blue ones are for the eyes only, avoid even touching them.”
It earns him the familiar eye roll and attitude, “Thank you, berry expert. I just moved them out of the way to get to the red ones.”
And that concluded their day. Killian lets it all slide by. Thinking that Emma will come to him eventually - that he should let her come to him. Hard pursuit will scare her off.
But it’s not working.
That same night, the four of them go out on patrol. She’s gone back to being normal, for the most part. He watches her, pretending that it never happened, that she’s not interested in him. She never ends up alone with him. The more she pretends, the more he thinks he’s got a chance.
-/-
Tinkerbell suggests a bloody barbeque.
David managed to hunt down probably the only boar on the island, or maybe it was the Queen’s magic, but they have the animal up by the fire, ready to roast. The flames cut through the dark night. They are also singing some songs, which Killian thinks is a pretty good reason to leave the camp and finish his rum-filled flask.
But then she walks down from the treehouse and he’s glued to the spot.
She’s wearing a not-Emma white sundress that probably the fairy gave her and her hair is loose and shiny. She must have taken that bath. She walks in like she feels awkward. He runs his fingers through his hair and wishes he could’ve made more of an effort. She catches his eye and he wishes she hadn’t just seen him preening for her.
She comes to him. “Hey,” she says.
“Hello, love,” he replies. “Nice dress.”
“It feels like forever since I wore something clean,” she says, smoothing down her dress and he chuckles.
They stand there for a minute. Smiling at each other. The moment kind of dies in awkwardness.
She looks away. Noticing the bowl of fruits and roasted meat by the fire. “You want some?”
“No,” he says, and takes her hand to keep her from bolting.
She looks at their hands, entwined, but doesn’t pull away. One corner of her mouth pulls up a little in a smirk he recognizes very well. Maybe this is all a manipulation, he thinks, but he doesn’t care.
“What do you want to do?” she asks.
He looks at the now dancing heroes and the mysterious bottle in Tinkerbell’s hand that Killian assumes contains alcohol.
“Murder folk music and introduce sea shanties,” he says. “But seeing as how that isn’t an option…” He squeezes her hand experimentally.
“I’m not dancing with you, Hook,” she says.
“I’m not asking,” he points out, with his eyes wide at her, like he’s shocked she would suggest it. “We can be outsiders together.” A moment goes by in awkward silence. “Your parents are having fun.”
“Mmhmm.”
“I think your father can’t really hold his liquor.”
“I can see that,” she agrees.
“What about you?”
“I’m okay. Though, Tinkerbell’s drink is pretty strong, whatever that is.”
“Well, you’re always welcome to my rum.” He likes this. It feels easy.
So that’s what they do. They stand on the sidelines and watch. He makes up nicknames as the night progresses. All of them are either mean or absurd, depending on the situation. She laughs at one of them, and from that point on, his new goal in life is to hear that sound more often.
He’s trying too hard, and she encourages him, and he likes her that much more for it.
When the meat is gone and David runs out of songs, he walks her to the treehouse. The candles are on inside. He notices again the dress she’s wearing, how pretty it looks on her. He wants to say it but doesn’t want to screw this up.
“I had fun,” she says.
“Me too.” They stand there. Ever so awkwardly. “I guess this is goodnight,” he says.
“Goodnight, Hook.” She’s still standing there. Looking pretty. Looking at him.
Then the Queen pushes past them, right between them, to go through the door. In her wake, the moment is gone.
“See you in the morning, Swan,” he says and turns to go. He walks away determinedly. He can feel her eyes on him all the way and doesn’t dare turn back. In his head, he does dare, and takes her face in his hand and kisses her senseless. He thinks about it all night. What might have been.
-/-
Morning comes too early and they’re back out in the jungle again. “Swan, you’re with me,” he says before anyone can suggest anything to the contrary. “Regina and Bae, head north. You two, go that way.” He points for David and Snow.
“Guess Fred and Daphne want to make out, Scoob,” The Queen says to Baelfire, and he gives Killian a hard look as they walk away.
Killian doesn’t understand the reference, though, and when he looks at her, Emma’s eyes are blazing.
“I’ve always thought of myself as more of a Shaggy,” she says, trying to defuse the situation somehow.
“You want to?” he offers, giving her a killer smile. Knowing she won’t take him up on the offer to make out.
“Maybe after some more witty banter,” she says, in that serious-deadpan way she has.
“Very funny,” he says.
“What are we even doing?”
“What kind of question is that?” He looks at her, half-wild and half-confused. “We’re looking for Pan’s hideout so we could find your boy.”
“Well, yeah, but we’ve been looking for it for almost a week. I feel like we’re going in circles. Aren’t you supposed to know where he is anyway?” She puts her hands on her hips.
“Oh aye, how could I forget it? There’s my favorite leaf leading to his camp,” his tone is mocking, on the verge of angry, because she’s almost implying something that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“You don’t have to be a smart ass about it, I just thought you knew this island better,” she rolls her eyes, and he fears that one day it will get stuck in her skull.
“I do know the island, but Pan moves his camp every day. What we do out here is to find clues to where he might be right now or where he is moving,” his voice is calm again as he kicks at a rock in his path.
“Fine,” she sighs, frustrated, and a stubborn lock of hair finds its way out of her ponytail and falls into her eyes. He watches her fingers as she tries to place it back. “I just want to find him and get the hell out of here.”
“And you will, Swan. You’ll be back home with the lad and your family in no time,” he tries to encourage her, but at the same time, he firmly believes she will succeed against Pan.
She looks at him and nods, a silent understanding passing between them because he will always believe in her and her strength, and maybe she will start to believe him too.
“I wonder what Gold is up to. I hope he’s not trying to screw us over again,” she says after a while.
“I wouldn’t put it past the Crocodile. He is not exactly a team player.”
“I think that’s what he likes,” she shrugs.
“What about you?” He demands. Thinking about what she said when they were out here together before.
“What about me?” She asks.
“Tinkerbell tells me you keep turning down Baelfire’s advances.”
“Maybe I’m waiting for you to make another move,” she says, and he blinks rapidly, thinking she’s making a jest. But there’s something dangerous in her green orbs.
“How long are you willing to wait?”
She doesn’t say anything, just shrugs and looks off into the distance.
She’s killing him like this. He’s had enough of women playing games to last him a lifetime. But he doesn’t think she’s playing a game. “What do you want, Emma?” He uses her name to emphasize his seriousness.
She runs her hands through her hair and looks at him so hard he can feel it. It’s like a lightning bolt to the chest.
“Bloody hell, why didn’t you say so?” He’s closed the distance between them, and his hand and hook are sliding around her waist before he finishes the sentence. Pushing his hips into hers. Her skin is so soft under his fingertips, and he feels the tremors that go through her as he skims against her.
She pulls her head back to look him in the eye. Her breathing is ragged.
“I think I need to know you’re not going to hurt me,” she says.
“I never-”
“Not like that.” She doesn’t mean physically. She’s been hurt in another way before.
He doesn’t say the words, but they come to some kind of agreement without them. Her lips touch his, tentatively. He waits. Barely breathing. Hand and hook encircling her waist. He knows she can feel how aroused he is against her in this embrace. But they can take their time.
The kiss ends. He lets her slide away. They start walking through the jungle again, side by side.
“If we get back, you could leave Storybrooke and get back to the Enchanted Forest,” Emma says, out of the blue.
Are these the things she thinks about? “Maybe I won’t,” he says, but he knows he definitely won’t. Not without her, at least.
“Maybe,” she concedes.
They walk some more. Looking for the trail they might never find. “Is maybe enough to build something on?” she asks.
He wants to say yes. He wants to say he would always be by her side if she wishes.
But he doesn’t. They just keep walking. In circles. There’s that broken tree limb again.
He’s wondering what they would do if they found something. Someone. The lost boys. Including Pan and Henry. He must have been thinking it really loudly, because she says, ”Don’t forget I saved your ass.”
He knows she means on the beanstalk or after that blasted vessel hit him. But what she doesn’t know is that she may as well did a thousand times since then when she looks at him like she wants him in her life. But she doesn’t need to know that. Not yet, anyway.
“I didn’t forget. Maybe that’s when I fell in love.”
Oops. He didn’t mean to say that.
“You don’t love me,” she says.
His face is hot and his dirty fingernails are suddenly fascinating. He doesn’t say anything.
“Then you don’t know what love is,” she says and starts walking away.
“And you’re the expert?” he snaps. Thinking about her and Bae. Now she’s the one who doesn’t reply.
“So we’re friends?” he says. Frustrated. Feeling the need to put a name to things.
She turns on him. “You don’t want to be my friend, Hook,” she says. Her voice is husky. She wets her lips. Meets his eyes. “And I don’t want to be yours.”
And then she finally, finally kisses him.
He lets her. Softly, at first. She explores his closed lips with her tongue. Her hands rake through his hair as she presses deeper. He meets her tongue with his, still letting her take the lead. She wants him. They aren’t going back to how things were before this moment. His hand slides up her side, underneath her shirt.
They kiss for what feels like hours. Then she slides away, eyes opening to meet his gaze. He sees the desire there. She wipes her wet, swollen mouth with the back of her hand, and he finds it impossibly sexy.
She notices the broken tree branch. “I think we’re lost,” she says, half-laughing.
“I think I know exactly where we are.” He hitches her around the waist again, pulling her against him. He holds her for a long moment, then kisses her again. He doesn’t ever want to stop.
-/-
When they’re standing on the deck of the Jolly Roger, watching the island getting smaller and smaller behind them, she slips her hand into his. He loves that nothing with her is easy. That she makes him work for it,
He also hasn’t forgotten all the ways she tried to push him away. He suspects she knows that this is exactly how to hook his interest and keep it, pun intended. If things were easy, he’d get bored.
“We did it,” he says with a grin.
She squeezes his hand tighter. He thinks this confirms his theory, and he feels pretty smug about it.
And she thinks that her manipulation has been successful because he has no idea her heart is racing. Every time she sees him, her knees go a little weak, and she can feel those dimples of his all the way down into the heat of her body. She’s terrified and exhilarated. She doesn’t want to fall in love with him. Didn’t want to. She already has.
