A/N: This little drabble was written for darkduelist25, as part of my Captain Swan Secret Shipmate gift to her. She specifically requested a scenario with Emma trying to do Face Time with Hook, but the pirate of course misunderstanding and trying to rescue her from the "prison." So without further ado, I present...

Face Time With Emma Swan

Hook returned to the Jolly Roger after a long lunch spent at Granny's, disappointed. He'd hoped that he might run into Emma there; he really thought he had finally charmed her into the idea of spending time together outside of chasing down the next villain hell-bent on destroying their lives; thought she might be receptive now to the fun he had promised to show her after they returned from Neverland. Emma had certainly given him hope, implied that she would be open to it, when she had responded to his most recent overtures with a wide smile and the information that she usually took her lunch break at Granny's between 12 and 2 in the afternoon. Hook wasn't certain whether she'd meant it as an open invitation to seek her out for lunch dates, or simply an invitation to seek her out, period, by letting him know where and when it was easiest to find her; he was simply elated that she hadn't pushed him away again.

At least, he had been until several days went by without seeing Emma at Granny's during that time frame even once. He hadn't been too concerned at first, figuring she had been delayed by some business or another, but as the days went by, without even so much as a message left to explain her absence, Hook began to feel foolish. Had she changed her mind? Was she avoiding him again? It certainly seemed that way.

He closed the door to his cabin with a sigh. A spot of rum and an afternoon nap sounded like a good way to pass the time while he waited out the rain. Further restoration work on the deck would have to wait until the weather improved again. Hook slipped out of his leather jacket, hanging it up to dry, and walked over to the cabinet where he stored his personal stash of rum. He had just unlocked the doors and reached in for a bottle when a strange sound filled his ears. His eyes darted around his cabin, searching for the danger, and finally alighted on a small, black rectangle resting on the nightstand next to his lantern. Hook stared at it with a mixture of trepidation and consternation. What the bloody hell was it and how had it gotten in his cabin?

He approached it warily, hook held aloft so that he wouldn't be caught utterly defenseless at least, if it proved a threat. When he drew closer, however, he realized it was one of those-what were they called? Cellphones?-that everyone seemed to carry around in Storybrooke. He examined it with a critical eye, wondering how best to disarm the noisy thing, and tapped it gingerly with a finger. The noise ceased, and Hook had just started to wonder if someone had planted it in his cabin to implicate him as a thief, when Emma appeared on its surface.

"Hook?" her garbled voice came through. "Oh, good! I've been-"

"Swan?" he gaped, staring in horror.

"Who else?" she said with a sarcastic roll of her eyes.

"Who did this to you?" he spat. "I'll keelhaul him for this sorcery!" He picked up the phone, shaking it up and down, turning it this way and that as he looked for some sort of trapdoor or mechanism that would free her. "Don't worry, Swan, I'll get you out!"

"Hook," she protested, "just listen to me for a minute. I think I can explain-"

"Aha!" he muttered to himself, spying the tiny, round window on the back.

"Hook!" Emma shouted. "Where are you? Where'd you go? Answer me!"

"I'm coming, Swan!" he reassured her. He flipped the phone around again, so he could see Emma. "Stand back, love."

"What?" Her expression became horrified as he raised his hook. "No! Hook, don't-

He set the phone down on his nightstand brought the metal appendage down with force. It broke the little window and cracked the back of the phone open. Hook removed the shell, eager to get Emma out, but frowned when he couldn't find her-only more layers he didn't recognize or understand. He flipped the phone back over, but all he saw was blackness. "Emma?" he said softly, his brow creasing with worry. He blinked several times, shaking the phone up and down in desperation, as if she might magically reappear out of it. "Emma!"

Nothing.

He'd killed her, he thought numbly. He'd killed his Swan.

He sat down hard on the edge of his bed, the phone and its remnants clattering to the floor. What in the bloody hell was he going to say to her parents? Charming would murder him. And Snow-Snow was cruel enough to resurrect him and murder him all over again. Repeatedly.

He twisted his metal appendage off with a click, staring at it without expression for several moments before he threw it across the cabin as hard as he could. It hit the wall, leaving a nick in the wood, but Hook could not have cared less. His Swan was gone. By his own doing. He clenched his hand together into a fist, nails digging into his palm. He should have gone for help, found Charming or someone who could have helped him. But no, he'd had to be foolish and play the bloody damn hero himself.

Hook scrubbed at his eyes with a shaking hand.

The door burst open. "Hook, you idiot!"

His hand dropped to his side, and he stared at Emma in astonishment. "Swan!" he croaked, eyes greedily drinking in the sight of her. "You're alive!"

"Of course I am, you dork," she rolled her eyes, stomping over to him. "What the hell did you do with it? How bad is it?" Feeling guilty, he shifted his gaze to the floor, where it lay in pieces at his feet. "Oh, God," she groaned. "Tell me you didn't smash it with your hook!"

"Ah..." He shifted uncomfortably. "Well..."

"Dammit," she swore. "I bought that phone so we could at least Face Time with each other while I'm swamped at the station, buried under that pile of boring paperwork!"

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked softly.

"I did! I had Henry drop it off with a note and some instructions!"

He shook his head. "I didn't see a note, love. It must have fallen off somewhere."

"Well, that explains why you thought I was trapped in the phone," she sighed. "I swear to God, Hook," she growled, "I just-" Her mouth snapped shut, and she shook her head. "You're buying your own damn phone, now." She jabbed him in the chest with her finger for emphasis. Hook peered up at her, content to let her growl and yell all she wanted to.

"Why are you smiling at me?" He ignored her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her down to sit in his lap. "No!" she protested, trying to wriggle free. "I'm pissed at you right now, Hook! I-" She stared at his left arm. "Where'd your hook go?"

"Not important," he murmured, nuzzling his face against her neck, reveling in the warmth of her skin and the strong beat of her pulse. His Swan was alive. He hadn't killed her at all. "You are." He pressed a kiss against her lips, ignoring the very confused look on her face. She resisted at first; he could feel her trying to hang on to her anger, to push him away, but Hook persisted, peppering her with soft, gentle kisses until she yielded to him, relaxing in his arms. He smiled to himself and nipped at her lower lip, asking for entrance. She opened, and Hook deepened the kiss, running his fingers through the silken strands of her hair. Nothing would ever compare, could ever come close to being as important to him as his Emma.

"I'll buy a new phone, love," he promised breathlessly when they broke apart, "I promise." He gave her a cheeky grin. "In the meantime, this is all the face time I need," he insisted. And drew her into another long kiss.