Partners in Crime

Emma navigated the narrow passageway to the Jolly Roger's crew quarters and found Hook exactly where she'd expected to find him - alone and partaking in his favourite hobby. From the far end of the hall the jubilant conversations of her family and unlikely allies could be heard, but here it was quiet. He painted a sad sort of portrait sitting there with his bottle to his lips and his eyes fixed on the narrow strip of sky visible through the porthole. Hearing the scuff of her boots at the door, he looked up and expelled a tired sigh.

"Come to guilt me into joining the party, have you?"

A faint, understanding smile played across her lips as she crossed the threshold.

"Not exactly."

Her feet took a tour of the small space and she inspected the array of shelves lining the walls. Each was adorned with an assortment of cubbies, stuffed carefully with a variety of items. There were haphazardly rolled maps, books of star charts, an old compass, and trinkets he'd collected from god only knew where. She fingered a small frosted glass bottle that looked as though it might have held some exotic perfume at one time, and then made her way to the bench opposite him to take a seat.

"Rum?" he offered, holding the flask out to her.

She declined with a shake of her head and folded her hands in front of her.

"Why aren't you up there celebrating with the others? Isn't that the sort of thing you Storybrooke lot enjoy?"

"Not all of us," she muttered with a pained smile. "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to be part of a family."

Her eyes flickered over to him and he fixed her with a commiserating look. "I know the feeling, love, but I don't think there's any 'right' way to be part of a family. You just are."

The tension melted out of her shoulders and the furrow of her brow softened, making her appear years younger than she had only moments ago. Though she generally took whatever the black clad pirate said with a grain of salt, his words had struck a chord. Her frown gave way to a soft smile and she drew up a knee to make herself more comfortable.

"How's about you and I have our own little celebration then?" Hook offered with a mischievous lift of his brow.

Emma's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I don't think-"

"Hold your horses, lass," he chided. "That's not what I meant."

After a moment of rustling through some boxes, he returned with dark glass bottle in hand. He offered it to her with a light shrug of his shoulders.

"I was saving it for a special occasion, but I suppose now's a good a time as any."

Her hands slid over the cool glass, brushing away a faint layer of dust. The glass had a rough texture that hinted at its old world origins and for a moment she simply stared at it wondering what other treasures he kept hidden away on his boat.

Hook softly cleared his throat and sheepishly lifted his hook into view. "If you don't mind…?"

"Of course…" she replied brusquely, bowing her head to hide the embarrassed flush that darkened her cheeks. The cork came loose with a loud 'pop' and she held the bottle out to him. Hook deferred with a slight bow and courteous reply of 'ladies first'.

The bottle's contents held the faint odour of fermentation and she tentatively put it to her lips. Champagne bubbled sweetly over her tongue, exploding with the faint essence of berries and honey. When the old myths spoke of ambrosia, the drink of the gods, she had to believe this was what they'd meant. With a soft groan of appreciation, she swallowed and turned the bottle around to examine the label.

"This is a $20,000 bottle of champagne!" she gasped, her eyes going wide. "Where did you get this?"

"It's better if you don't ask," Hook explained, taking it from her hands with an apologetic lift of his shoulders. "Pirate, remember?"

While she stared open-mouthed, he put the bottle to his lips and took a generous sip then handed it back to her.

"Now, how about a toast."

Retrieving his small flask of rum, he held it up ceremoniously and offered a toast to finding Neal, retrieving Henry, outsmarting Pan and making it 'the hell off that bloody island'. Emma quirked a brow and touched her bottle to his before taking another (this time more delicate) sip.

"Thanks for your help," she said sincerely, "We couldn't have made it out of Neverland without you."

He fixed her with a rakish grin that had the unfortunate effect of making her heart beat just a little bit faster in her chest. "You know, there are other ways you can show your gratitude."

Her heart made a sudden leap at the reminder of the last time she'd chosen to show him her gratitude. What had started as a 'thank you' had turned into…well…far more than she'd expected. With a light cough she cleared her throat and did her best to look unaffected.

"What part of 'that was a one-time thing' didn't you understand?"

"Yes, well, you kissed me, love," Hook protested, slumping down onto his bench. "Figured it couldn't hurt to see if you'd changed your mind."

With a scoff and a shake of her head, Emma put the champagne to her lips and drank another mouthful. If she wasn't careful she'd drink the entire thing and there'd be none left for the others. A $20,000 bottle seemed a terrible thing to waste on distracting herself from the pull she felt towards a certain cheeky pirate.

"Come on, love," Hook prodded, "don't look so serious. We're supposed to be celebrating, remember? Let down your hair for once. You might actually have a bit of fun."

Emma glanced pointedly at the long golden strands hanging limply over her shoulders and then back at him.

"You know what I mean," he muttered with a casual wave of his hand.

As much as she was loathed to admit it, he did have a point. With so much of her life spent simply surviving, she'd never been afforded the luxury of fun. She didn't know how to let loose or 'let her hair down', as Hook had so eloquently put it, because she'd never learned. The fact that he was the one to point this out to her – a pirate with a 300 year old vendetta – didn't make things any better.

"What about you," she countered, "You won't even take your jacket off at a 'party'."

"Well that's pragmatic, more than anything," he drawled, fingering one of the large brass buttons adorning the cuff of his sleeve. "Ever seen a one-handed pirate try to get into or out of a leather jacket? I can assure you, it's a truly undignified sight."

Emma felt the heat rush up her neck to scorch her cheeks. Hook spared her further embarrassment by looking away and taking a long swig from his flask. Crap. She hadn't meant to insult him. After everything he'd done for them, the last thing he deserved was to be reminded of what Rumpelstiltskin had taken from him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" she offered meekly, but he didn't reply.

Determined to make amends, she took several sips of liquid courage and then set the bottle aside.

"Going so soon?" he asked, his weary tone suggesting that he'd expected her to leave him long ago.

"Get up," she ordered, anxiously getting to her feet. His brows lifted in a look of genuine surprise and she impatiently shifted her weight from one foot to the other. After a few long seconds, he too dropped his feet to the floor and stood.

"Turn around," she instructed, feeling less certain with every passing second.

"I like games," he teased with a lascivious smirk, but indulged her by turning around with a flourish.

Pulling in a deep breath through her nose to steel her nerves, Emma slid her hands up the soft, black leather covering his shoulders and grabbed hold of either side of his jacket. With a gentle tug, she pulled the garment towards her until it peeled off his solid frame and sat warm and heavy in her hands. He glanced back at her, his eyes wide with astonishment.

"I shouldn't have said…" she tried again, but faltered and looked away.

"Don't trouble yourself, lass," he reassured her. "Come, let's have a drink."

Freed from the restrictions of his coat, he lounged on the bench across from her with an arm resting across his bent knee. Emma did her best not to notice the way his shirt and vest clung to his torso, accentuating just how solid he was beneath those clothes.

"What will you do once we get back?" she asked, hoping to distract herself.

"Well, piracy and revenge have always been a good business," Hook reasoned with a pointed look at the bottle cradled between her hands. "Don't see any reason to stop now."

"After everything we just went through, you're still going to try and kill Rumpelstiltskin?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing in disappointment.

"And what would you have me do, Swan? Settle down in Storybrooke where everyone knows I'm nothing but a no-good, bloody pirate?"

She looked up in time to see his jaw clench and his hand form a fist where it rested across his knee. The tremor of anger underlying his words hid a deep-seated pain she recognized all too well – the pain of being an outsider.

"Not everyone thinks that," she admitted quietly. "I don't think that."

Hook's eyes met hers and the faint glimmer of hope in them made her heart squeeze tight. Sometimes all a person needed was someone to believe in them, to believe they could be better, before they realized it for themselves.

"You saved my father's life on that island," she said, holding his gaze. "And you helped save Neal and Henry. Those are the acts of a hero, not a villain."

"Even if I did it all for you?"

His blue eyes searched hers with a look that penetrated right down to the very marrow of her bones. She opened and closed her mouth, unsure how to respond. Sure, they'd shared a kiss but it didn't mean anything, not really. Or did it? With Henry and Neal and David to think about, she hadn't had time to dwell on it while they were still on the island. Now that they were alone and she found herself staring at his lips while struggling to form coherent thoughts, she wondered if maybe their kiss hadn't meant something more to her, too.

Not trusting herself to stay, she set her bottle aside and rushed to her feet. "I should go…"

Hook swore softly under his breath and intervened to block the door. "Swan, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Yes, you did," she cut him off, not giving him a chance to explain.

They were standing so close now that she could smell the leather of his vest and the hint of rum that clung to his breath. If she tilted her head up just so, his lips would be within reach. She remembered with a vivid flash how their first kiss had felt – the soft pressure of his mouth against hers, the faint, pleased moan that had sounded in the back of his throat, and the rush of liquid heat that'd ripped through her veins, silencing any lingering doubts.

"I was right about you from the start, you know," she said, placing her hand softly against his chest. "There's good in you, Killian, there always has been. You just have to want it."

She dared to look up then and heard the breath catch in this throat. A shy smile pulled at one corner of his mouth and his eyes softened as they held hers.

"I know what I want, Emma."

With his good hand, he brushed the underside of her jaw in the faintest touch and her eyes drifted closed. Killian Jones wasn't perfect. In fact, he was even more troubled and mixed up than she was, but that was the beauty of it - he understood. With him there was no pressure to be anyone other than the flawed orphan that she was and she hadn't realized just how badly she'd needed that until that very moment.

After what'd happened in Neverland she didn't feel sure about much of anything anymore, certainly not her love life, but standing there, looking up into his soulful blue eyes, she was certain of one thing – Killian Jones, the infamous "Captain Hook", loved her and she couldn't think of a single good reason not to kiss him.

With a slight lift of her heels, her lips touched his and she knew there was no going back. The first time she'd kissed him was to assuage her curiosity and shut that well-shaped mouth of his that always seemed ready with a saucy quip. She'd kissed him to prove him wrong, to show that she could more than handle his flirtations. This time was different.

This time she kissed him because she understood what it felt like to not have a place to call 'home', or a family, or someone to miss you when you were gone. This time she kissed him because in all of that chaos he'd been right by her side, never wavering, never causing her to doubt that he would be there to see it through till the bitter end. This time she kissed him because he never asked anything of her and never demanded more than she was willing to give. This time… This time she kissed him because she couldn't bear the thought of stepping off this boat without knowing what might have been.

Hook inhaled a sharp breath through his nose and went very still until her hands slid up the soft leather of his vest to wrap around the back of his neck. He pulled her against him with a needy groan and she melted into his solid length the way a body relaxes into a bed after a long day. It was a gentle release of tension, as though every part of her simultaneously uttered a soft sigh of release without ever making a sound.

If their first kiss was liquid fire, this one was a slow burn. With a tilt of her head the kiss deepened and a comforting warmth spread through her to the very tips of her toes. Was kissing him supposed to feel this good? Their feet shuffled slowly away from the door until his back met the nearest wall. He grunted with the impact and a coy smile played across her lips. Everything about this felt right, from the rapid beat of her heart to the gentle caress of his calloused fingers across the naked skin of her back.

His lips transferred their affections to the column of her throat and her hands went to the buckles of his vest, unhooking them one by one. He shifted his shoulders, impatiently shrugging the garment off until it landed with a muffled 'whump' on the floor. His sword belt was next. With a quick jerk of her hands it came loose and then joined his vest on the floor.

"I knew you were a feisty one," Hook chuckled against her neck. He pulled back, his eyes bright with amusement and tenderly brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. She caught it between her teeth, offering it a light nibble before releasing it. He grinned slyly in approval and bent his head to capture her mouth.

She'd never felt anything like it. As her hands slipped beneath the loose hem of his shirt to explore the body underneath, she found herself craving more. Running her hands over the firm muscles of his stomach and up the broad plains of his back wasn't enough. The need for him had become something that was more intoxicating than any bottle of champagne could hope to be.

Her body wanted his in a way she'd never wanted anyone. When he kissed her, silly, pleading sounds escaped from her throat, sounds she hadn't known she could make. When his hand slid up her spine, her body moved with it, arching into him in a way that would've struck her as needy and desperate if it weren't so damn exhilarating. Emboldened, she hooked a leg around his waist and ground her body against his.

"Emma…"

Her name fell from his lips and his hand slid down the length of her thigh, pulling her closer. It was clear from hard bulge in his leather pants that she wasn't the only one feeling turned on. She ground against him seductively, letting her hips do just as they damn well pleased, while her lips explored the side of his throat. There, she teased his rapidly beating pulse with the tip of her tongue until he made an encouraging noise in the back of his throat that sounded remarkably like a growl.

"Careful, love, or you'll unman me yet," he warned, breathless.

Biting her lip to stifle a smile, she slipped a hand between them and loosened the stays of his pants. His brow quirked upwards in approval and he aimed a cautious glance at the door.

"What about the others? Someone might come looking for you."

"Are you going to kiss me, or are you going to ask questions?" She nibbled at his bottom lip until he gave a soft moan of approval.

"Can't I do both, love?"

He ravaged her mouth until her lips throbbed and then bent his head to explore the hollow space where her shoulder met her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy and she wondered why she'd ever been reluctant to want him.

"Killian…"

His name was torn from her in a broken whisper as her hands clawed into the material of his shirt.

"Yes, love," he answered, fixing her with a look that was so tender words all but failed her. A sudden shyness took over and she glanced in the direction of one of the beds.

"We should-"

"Emma? Are you down here?"

Their bodies froze as Mary Margaret's voice reached them from the end of the hall. A momentary flash of panic sliced through Killian's eyes and Emma expelled a defeated sigh before untangling herself. While she re-buttoned her pants, Killian closed his eyes and thumped his head back against the wall looking as though he well and truly wanted to punch a hole through something. Taking pity on him, she re-laced his stays and then fastened his sword belt into place. With a quick shake, she removed the dust from his vest and then slipped it over his shoulders as well. She knew he could dress himself, but there was something intimate that she liked about dressing a man after so thoroughly un-dressing him. When she was done, she offered a soft, apologetic kiss against the underside of his jaw.

"You're the devil herself," he remarked, sighing pitifully as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Takes one to know one," she shot back with a smirk.

More calls for her reached their ears and she uttered an impatient sigh. Retrieving his coat from where she'd left it on the bench, she held it out for him to slip his arms into and then pulled it up over his shoulders. Standing back to admire her handiwork, she gave an approving nod and took up the half-drank bottle of champagne.

"Time to go," she urged, taking a step towards the door.

"We're not finished here," he protested, attempting to ply her with a lingering kiss.

Licking her lips to savour the taste of him, she fixed him with a saucy look of her own and slipped out of reach.

"Far from it, Captain, but right now we have a party to get to."

Killian expelled a sharp sigh through his nose and then held out his arm for her to take.

"My lady?"

Stifling a giggle, she looped her arm through his. There would be curious looks and questioning glances from the others, but with a single reassuring glance from Killian all of those worries subsided. If they could survive Neverland, they could survive this. Besides, from what she'd tasted so far the reward that awaited them was so completely and utterly worth it.

Author's Note: Hey there OUAT fandom! *waves* So, this is my first attempt at anything OUAT or Captain Swan. I'd love some feedback on characterizations etc. Really loving this pairing at the moment, so I may write some more of them if you guys like this little bit. Thanks for giving it a chance!

Update: Part two is titled "The Return Home". I hope you'll give it a read!

Cheers,

Langus