Author's Note: This pairing is literally one of my guilty pleasures. I love it. You might not. I have decided to alter how Emma and Peter Pan first met. Some elements will be the same, but others are very different. I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. If I had, this would've happened.

She is alone. She can hear it. That's why she's here.

He has realized before even talking to her, that she is lost. The best time to see that in anyone is when they are alone. She leaves herself more vulnerable, not as many walls up.

He knew all about these walls she made. Most of his Lost Boys had had them when the first arrived, but a short time in Neverland fixed that. They released themselves after they stopped denying themselves, released themselves of their internal struggles, and became free. Became wild.

He has hoped that Neverland would have this effect on her.

"Hello Emma," He says behind her. Her shoulders tense, and her hands clench, the left one tightening into a fist while the other grips the dagger as though it is about to be ripped from her. She turns toward him, her blond hair whipping around her like a storm.

"Pan." She states, even though they have never been introduced. She was smart. Observant.

"Why all the formalities? Call me Peter," He says in a genuine tone, though he still smirks from habit.

Her eyes flash in rage. She raise her dagger and holds in against his throat while she pushes him against a tree. He doesn't try to stop her. He could have, if he so desired. But, he didn't desire to stop her.

He desired her.

"You've got fire," He states in an excited tone. If she hadn't been so angry, he was sure she would've been able to detect the lust in his tone."I like fire."

Her body language shows her anger, as did the fact that the dagger of hrs managed to actually touch and cut his skin, causing a slight trickle of blood fall from his neck.

"Where is Henry," She asks in desperation and anger. "Where is my son?"

He could practically see the maternal instinct radiate from her. It was amazing. Even when he had been a father many years ago, the instinct of a parent had never clicked with him, and to see Emma embrace the instinct so completely was amazing.

"He's safe, and happy. I'd like to believe he's warming up to Neverland. I could give you a map to him, if you'd like it." She narrows her eyes at him.

"Why would you give me a map? What would I have to for it, Pan? Everything comes with a price."

"Peter, Emma. And the map is free. You couldn't play the game without it." She searched his eyes. His voice. His body language. Anything to see that he was telling the truth. She let out a sigh of frustration before she slowly took the dagger from his neck, and held it down by her side.

"Every thing's a game to you isn't it," She mutters. He hears her smirks. She's catching on.

He ran his hand over the dripping wound on his neck. It healed instantly. He looked up, grinning at her as he did this. She rolled her eyes and let out an impatient huff. He reached inside his shirt and pulled out a sheet of folded parchment, and handed it to her, which she hesitantly took.

She unfolded the map and was met with blank parchment.

"It's blank."

"I promised a map. I didn't promise the secret of how to read it. That, Emma, is where the talk of prices comes in."

"Name yours."

He is suddenly only a few inches away. She can see the mischievous glint in his eyes no longer. Instead they are with something more passionate.

She is aware of his smell. He smells like the forest of Neverland, and slightly like the smoke of a dying fire. He smells delicious.

He leans down and puts his mouth only centimeters away from right ear. He is aware of her warm breath against his face. It's enticing.

"Kiss me," He breathes. Her eyes widen, not expecting this price. She leans her head up so her face is as close to his as possible without touching.

"And you promise," She whispers into his own ear," That you will tell me how to make it work if I do."

He chuckles softly into her ear. " I may not be the most well behaved boy on the island, but I always keep my promises."

Suddenly, she is kissing him. The dagger and parchment fall to the forest floor. Her hands cup his cheeks, and his own hands are wrapped up in her hair. She is sweet and bitter at the same time, and he can't seem to get enough. It's euphoric. The feeling of her lips on his sends an electric current through him.

His kiss reminds of her Coca Cola. It's sweet, but burns at the same time. Though she won't ever admit it, she enjoys the good burn.

He pushes her against the tree that she had pushed him against only a few moments ago. His hands move from her hair to her face , and her hands move from his face to his neck.

The kiss seems infinite, but it's not. The kiss breaks, leaving them both breathless and wanting more. He gathers his breath before he kisses up her jaw until he makes his way to her ear.

"When you stop denying who you are, Emma, the map will be revealed." He says, his hot breath tickling ear. He gives her ear lob a nip, and then he is gone, leaving her flustered and confused.

But there was something else he left her with.

Desire.