Chapter Seven: Complicated Feelings.

Despite him being a man capable of dealing with hundreds of years of waiting, he was sure growing quite impatient that evening; as he leaned against the wall right outside the pub, arms crossed. His eyes trailed around the streets in front of himself, hoping any moment now the princess would finally make an appearance.

Still, he hadn't been kept waiting for that long, actually. Maybe an hour had passed, give or take, since he'd gotten response from Emma saying she'd be just heading out to meet him.

That first day Emma had visited his cabin, when they'd agreed on helping each other, Emma and he had accorded on a way of letting each other know of any news on their current search.

He had been lying on his bed, legs crossed and back rested against the headboard. Emma, on the other hand, sat facing him; a distance kept between the two of them, one neither of them made an effort to break — not because he lacked the desire of having her close, but because they felt comfortable enough that way.

It felt a lot less complicated, as they settled instead with just relaxing at each other's presence, sharing lighthearted conversations for what had felt like hours, as the Jolly rocked beneath them. It was something they could both deal with. It was something he could get used to.

"I should head out now," Emma had mumbled, sudden distress on her face. The bed shifted under them as she got on her feet, hands smoothing out the lower end of her dress. "I've been gone for too long."

He wished the disappointment upon his features wasn't that obvious, as he had to bite his own tongue to prevent himself from saying something foolish, like asking her to stay

Instead, he had just nodded.

"You'll let me know if anything new happens?"

"Right — as soon as something happens, you'll have me throwing pebbles at your tower's window, princess," he had claimed with sarcasm, showcasing a charming grin; making Emma watch him in deep annoyance.

"Send a bird better."

"Don't be so cheesy, Swan."

"I'm serious, Hook," she had rolled her eyes. "Birds excel at delivering messages, no matter how cheesy that might be. Just make sure they're small — and offer them a treat, or two before."

"Fine," he'd said, moving to the edge of the bed and raising himself up from it. "I'll let you know if anything new comes up, then."

Emma stood in front of him, showing him a slight smile. "I'll be waiting for it."

Something in the way she pronounced the words made him think there was more to them; a secret hopefulness hidden beneath at the idea of hearing from him. He smiled gladly at the thought and on a whim, he'd taken her hand in his and carefully pressed his lips to the skin, like he'd done a couple of times before — and he thoroughly enjoyed the pink tint of her cheeks that came right after it. "Have a safe trip back home, your highness."

She had failed to hide the shy smile on her face as she left his cabin.

The days that passed after that were just as futile as the past couple weeks had been concerning his task of finding Belle, with no signs of any progress ahead of them at all; until that afternoon, that was. As soon as the news had reached him, the first time he'd done was scribble down a quick note and tying it down to a bird's leg, just like Emma had suggested, and waited anxiously for her response, which got there sooner than he'd anticipated.

On my way. That was her message. So, he waited.

But still, he felt anxious. He wasn't used to waiting around anyone. No, he worked alone; never the idea of working as a team with someone having occurred to him. He'd always had his crew and Smee by his side, and they were good, faithful companions but they still were disposable. None had a voice or an active role in whatever his plans were; it was himself, and only himself, the one who mattered within his plans.

Now, however, it wasn't just him. Now, all the sudden, he had a partner; determined and intelligent and lovely, and even sometimes downright frightening.

Frightening because first, despite her innocent and even slightly fragile looks, the lass was one hell of a tough, stubborn woman. Capable of daring him with no second thoughts; of besting him like it were a task she'd been born for.

Second, and more importantly, was the fact that even though he'd always enjoyed the freedom of dealing with it all on his own, she'd made him discover that having her by the side felt a whole lot better than the freedom of loneliness. Even despite the fact they shared no motives, joined in their task because of entirely opposite reasons — yet together something seemed to click.

With Emma by his side, it no longer felt like success was a far-off thought.

So, he waited for her. And while he was sure ecstatic over the fact there was finally some progress in their search for the first time in weeks, he couldn't deny he also felt rather eager to see her.

It wasn't until some minutes later that he caught sight of her hooded figure, taking long strides towards him. A slight smile appeared on his face at her presence, and he pushed himself off the wall. "At last."

"Hey," Emma stopped in front of him, seemingly anxious. "What's happened? You said it was urgent, and I got here as soon as I could—"

"Come." He nodded at the tavern's door, making his way to it. He pushed it open and stepped aside, allowing her to walk inside first.

Killian's hand laid on the small of her back as he guided her through the tables and noisy people at the tavern; stopping as they got to the bar, and he wordlessly sat on one of the stools.

Killian whistled at the man standing behind the bar, as Emma sat right next to him, eyeing him curiously. "Two bottles of rum, quickly."

Emma's brow furrowed. "Please don't tell me drinking is the rather urgent thing you called me here for."

Killian rolled her eyes at her in annoyance, and then leaned his face to a side, closer to her ear. "There's a group of men sitting two tables behind us. See them?" he said lowly.

He watched Emma shift around slowly, turning her head just the slightest as she watched behind herself.

"The table with three men? One wears a dark blue shirt?" Emma described them after turning her head back to him, making sure she was watching the right table.

"Aye," Killian nodded. "They're the group of men our dear friend Belle left with weeks ago. If we can get some information about where she went, it's from them."

"So, what's the plan? Getting them drunk?" Emma wondered, raising an unimpressed eyebrow as the man at the bar loudly placed two bottles in front of them, and Killian threw a couple of coins onto the counter.

Killian smirked cockily at her, getting up on his feet as he took the couple of bottles in his hand. "We make some friends, love."

Emma let out a deep breath, and stood from her seat, following right after him. They both made their way to the table, and Killian cleared his throat to gain the group of men's attention, making them stop their loud chattering and focus on the pair.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Emma was the one to greet them, a smile plastered on her face.

"Good evening."

"'Ello, lassie."

The men eyed her with curiosity, perhaps even slight suspicion, yet Emma paid no mind to it. "We just thought you guys looked like you were in need of a bit more to drink, huh?"

It was then that they seemed to focus on Killian, and more importantly, the bottles he waved in his hand — and their expressions changed in no time; lighting up as they cheered and moved to make room for the couple newcomers to sit along with them and leave the rum on the table.

Killian didn't think much of them, as they sat upon the table and engaged in conversation with the three of them. They were simple commoners, apparently, without much to say or tell — the conversations upon the table being ones of the hard works they endured, or women. They seemed even cheerier than before, clearly delighted by the unexpected, free drinks — and they wasted no time in opening the first bottle, serving a round of drinks in celebration.

The sturdiest of them, who'd introduced himself as Ray, had pulled out a few dice and cups soon after their arrival to the table, and distributed them between all who sat on the table — except for Emma, who claimed she had no idea of how to play such games.

She settled instead with paying close attention to Killian's movements during the game, attempting to silently figure out how it was played. He lifted his cup slightly, as she shifted her seat closer to his, so she could also see the dices hidden beneath, and he explained under his breath:

"It's a game of deceit, actually rather popular at sea. You're constantly guessing the number of the dices in the hands of all the players until one is called out as a liar."

By the time a second round started —the first having Killian come out victorious—, Emma dared to join in the game, and Killian found himself watching her with suspicion, as he began to doubt she'd been saying the truth of never having played the game. She seemed to get the hang of it rather quickly, and nearly immediately called Ray out as a liar, earning herself a victory on her first attempt at the game.

Killian, however, caught her bluffing during the next round, and he gave her a charming smile in response to the glare she gave him as she was eliminated from the game.

They shared another round of rum before starting the following round, and Killian decided it was a good time to bring the subject in, as he rolled the dice within his cup, and placed it on the table.

"I must admit, mates, us joining you tonight is no coincidence," Killian said. "We wished to speak with you. Word has it, you've met a friend of ours recently; she left town with you lot. Her name's Belle."

The three of them shared a look, shaking their heads slightly at each other, and the one in front of him, Nathaniel, shrugged. "I don't think it rings any bells."

"I'm sure you do know her," Emma chimed in quickly, "Blue eyes, brown hair — reads an awful lot."

"Oh, her." Ray, who sat on the seat beside hers, scowled as he took a sip of his drink. "Yeah, I remember her. It seemed like her nose was glued to that silly book of hers. We have her a ride, yes; until not too far from here, by the Sillas River. She continued her journey on foot, and we didn't ask where she was headed to."

"Two threes." The third man seemed to have no interest in the conversation, as he urged the game to be continued.

"Are you certain, mate?" Killian leaned back into his seat, watching Ray as he nodded, and a frustrated sigh left his mouth. He didn't feel too convinced by the information, for some reason. He shifted his attention back to the game; though his mind was definitely far away from it. "Three fours."

He jumped slightly when he felt long fingers wrapping around his arm, delicately pressing over the sleeve of his coat. Emma leaned over to him until her lips were mere inches away from his ear, and she whispered, "Can we talk?"

Her voice was low, and her breath was warm against his skin, and for some reason, it brought a chill down his spine. He nodded briefly in response, pulling his seat back and raising from the table. He stretched out his hand and helped Emma do the same once she had her hand in his; all while he addressed the men sitting in front of them, offering them a polite nod. "Excuse us for a moment."

Killian didn't let go of her hand once they were up on his feet; instead, he carefully led her through the pub, once more stopping by the bar. He released her hand and threw a discreet look at the table they'd just left, wanting to keep them on his sight still, and making sure they weren't listening.

"Do you also feel like something's off?" He wondered to Emma as he faced her, leaning towards her so the words would be heard only by her. She nodded in response.

"I do. He was lying," Emma stated decidedly, no glimpse of doubt in her voice.

The way she spoke the words, like it wasn't a suspicion but more of a fact, made Killian's gaze to be filled with curiosity. "You seem… certain."

Emma seemed to be biting down her inner cheek, doubtful, before she opened her mouth and spoke, "I know he is lying. I've always had this…" she seemed to struggle to find the words. "I can tell when someone is lying to me."

Killian blinked a couple times in surprise. Emma's words were spoken in complete seriousness, and while it was the oddest claim he had ever heard her make, he decided not to question it. It was a peculiar talent to have, but he'd already fallen to the conclusion that there wasn't much that Emma couldn't do. Also, that could explain why she'd sensed the deception in the game with such ease. What a cheater.

Killian frowned, wondering how many times she would have analyzed him in search of lies of his own. "When were you thinking to share that?"

"Well, now," she smiled sheepishly at him, before shifting her eyes briefly to the table, and speaking in a low voice. "They're trying to hide something."

Killian followed her gaze, thoughtful for a second. Did they not want Belle's whereabouts to be revealed? Or perhaps, they were attempting to cover something up. Whatever it was they refused to share, he'd get it out of them one way or another.

He could be a very persuasive man — either with his charisma, or his menacing behavior. And there was no way he'd be stepping a foot out of the tavern without any answers; he'd be by the men's side all night long if that was what it took to bend their will.

Which, men often didn't take long to break under the pirate's threats.

"Well, they won't be able to hide it for too long."

As soon as Killian attempted to take a step ahead he had Emma's hand pressed against his chest, gentle yet firm enough to stop him; the tips of her fingers pressing lightly on his skin, where the first few buttons of his black shirt remained undone.

Killian's eyebrows raised in a silent question, and Emma shook her head. "It's best if we don't cause a scene."

"Fine," he rolled his eyes at her, as she retreated her hand. "What do you suggest we do then, princess?"

Emma returned his gaze intently, seemingly thoughtful; to then throw a quick glance back at the table, as her eyes seemed to light up with the sudden flash of an idea. She looked hesitant for a moment and had a sharp intake of breath.

"We try a different tactic," she proposed with determination, looking back at him.

Immediately, Emma's hands raised just over her head, taking the thick fabric of her hood to push it off her head, and untied the small knot that kept the hood placed over her shoulders. She then took the small pins that kept her hair in place, pulling them out and letting them drop to the floor.

Blonde curls fell to frame her face, slightly messy and she combed her fingers through them, in an attempt to quickly fix them.

A faint smell of vanilla and daisies hit him, and he didn't bother to ask what the hell she was doing; he was content with just staring for a moment.

That is until her next move happened to be tugging her dress a little lower, and tightening the strands at the front of it, making her chest appear fuller. His mouth suddenly felt dry, and it was ridiculous how flustered it truly made him feel. He had to blink a few times and shake his head as he willed himself to keep his stare away from that.

"What are you doing?" The words left his mouth quickly, in utter disconcert.

Emma looked up at him, eyebrows raising at the surprised and uneasy tone of his voice. Nearly immediately, as she must've seen something within his expression that she liked, she offered him a smug and pleased smirk, and purred in response:

"I believe it's called seduction, captain; I thought you'd be familiar with it by now."

He blankly stared at her for a second; until he joined the dots in his head, and a sudden pang of anger ran through his chest. "Emma—" he grunted, a warning in his voice; taking a small step to a side as if to block her path.

"Killian," Emma calmly spoke in return, her hand reaching up to softly squeeze his arm in reassurance, before gently pushing him aside. "I'll be fine. Now, go have some fun with your mates, while I deal with this."

Killian frowned deeply, mouth opening as he tried to find anything to let her know this was a terrible idea, the worst idea she could've come up with, and that he certainly wasn't happy with it. Still, she had looked at him with such a determination that told him she was not going to back away no matter what he said — in fact, she was already striding her way back into the table, not taking a second glance at him at any moment.

He watched the blonde press her hands upon the table with a slight thud, leaning in front of the group as she spoke loudly:

"Now that old pirate is gone, how about we have some real fun now?"

To say Killian was sulking was an understatement.

There wasn't ever a day in which the tavern wasn't filled with joyful drunken men and enchanting wrenches, and that day wouldn't be the exception to the norm. But at that moment, then and there, that amount of liveliness surrounding him did nothing but deepen the scowl on his face. Like everyone else's happiness were only a beating reminder of how bad of a time he was really having.

Perhaps he was a masochist, as he'd decided to sit some tables away from her; alone, instead of doing what she'd told him to and just have some fun with his mates. They'd be surely wondering why the hell had he just walked past them, opting against the enjoyment and the wrenches, to stick with the long and distasteful night that seemed to be ahead of him.

Killian was certain none of the men in her table had seen him, as in no moment any of their eyes had glanced his way — and of course, they wouldn't, as they had something better to stare at. Killian himself had been one to already fall under that sort of spell; senses clouded as he wasn't able to do nothing more than stare.

And that was what he did right then and there, placing the glass to his lips continuously as he stared. Emma moved slowly and delicately; and while Killian couldn't make out what she was saying to those men, he could surely see the slightly curved lips, the batting lashes, the fingers barely grazing one of the guys' arm.

It's an act.

It's all an act, he reminded himself. She's playing them, you know that.

And still, his jaw clenched in an attempt of ignoring the boiling of his blood with every shamelessly flirty act she put on. Because the thing was, he could also see their faces — their lust-filled glares, meant for her. He breathed in deeply, holding back the impulse to let his presence be known by banging their heads against the table, again and again until they got the message — that she was not theirs to take.

But she isn't yours, either, a voice in the back of his head reminded him.

And in the end, that happened to be the real issue here, wasn't it?

It was like a sudden moment of divine enlightenment; in that old, dirty bar — listening to the laughs of whores and drunks as he sunk deeper in his seat with a grunt, he finally understood why it was so hard keeping apart — why it felt so natural to let her in.

He'd screwed up. He hadn't been paying attention, senses clouded — until now, that he'd opened his eyes and realized how deep under his skin she truly was, and now he was…

He was staring.

And bloody hell, maybe her plan really was going to work. There she was, making sure she had them in the palm of her hand with her sugar-coated smiles and a couple of bottles. Bottles which she had made sure were emptied in little less than an hour.

He'd lost count of how many times he'd seen her ask for a toast, and every time the group would cheer in response, happy to oblige. It didn't take long for a third bottle to be brought into the table, and Killian wasn't sure they'd be making it through a fourth one.

Bunch of big, tough guys just about to be fooled by this small, delicate-looking princess.

He admired her, that much was true. Emma had the beauty and grace he'd expected to see from a princess; maybe some of the foolish sweetness that made them oh-so-typically vulnerable as well. But still, there was a fire and determination within her that continued to surprise him, prove him wrong. She was a stubborn brat, infuriating; still surprisingly clever and kind.

Iridescent. That might be the one word to describe her. Warmth and light seemed to flow right through and out of her, like a beaming sun — one which he'd been carelessly flying around, testing his luck.

He was certain he was going to get burnt.

A low chuckle escaped his lips, a smirk replacing his ever-present scowl as he'd finally caught onto her strategy — with every clink of their glasses, Emma waited for the right time to flick the contents of hers out onto the floor, when all the men were distracted enough not to notice. Sneaky, that one.

His chest puffed with pride.

That's my lass.

Only she wasn't. She was just a lass, a momentary partnership that would soon fade away as the time came for him to sail off and fulfill his one goal in life.

He felt a slight pain in his chest. Longing.

If only they'd met in a different time, in a different life. One where his heart had not been torn apart over and over again, become darkened with hatred and bitterness — one where he could've handled it to her, with no worries or second thoughts.

Because he would've. In another life, he would've devoted himself to her right away. He would've done anything in his power to prove himself worthy of her, win her heart fairly.

But she is the sun, and deserved all the planets and stars for herself.

And he was nothing but the shadow of the man of honor he once was.

In another life, one far less complicated than this one, he was sure they could have been in love.

Instead, he just stood in the sidelines, observing her carefully as she continuously proved to be more of a pirate than a princess, with a smirk upon her face and triumph within her eyes.

It was a moment after that Emma raised from her seat, with drawn-out movements, like leaving wasn't something she wanted to do. Killian imitated her moves, raising to his feet as he was ready to go to her and get away from the bar.

He watched her as she spoke to Ray, the one that'd lied to them before, and leaned over the table; hands folded on top of it as she looked at him, determination lying underneath the sweetness of her gaze.

She finished her words turning her smile into a pout, and Killian watched the man respond.

He couldn't help taking a couple of steps forward, in hopes of catching a few of the words they were sharing.

"I've already told you, beautiful. We dropped her off by the river."

"And that's where she was headed?" Emma insisted, eyebrow raised at him.

The smile on Ray's face dropped slightly.

"Eh… Well, no," he admitted and rubbed a hand sloppily over his face. "When I say we dropped her off, it's quite literal. We, um, pushed her off our wagon."

Emma looked scandalized, eyes wide at his response.

"You're saying you kicked my friend off your wagon; left her stranded by the river, alone?"

"She sure managed just fine," the one who'd remained the quietest that evening, a man with a long blonde beard, joined the conversation. He shrugged, seemingly displeased at the sudden change of the conversation. "She was a nuisance — sending us off to the bloody wrong path…"

The words had Killian raising an eyebrow, as he listened. So, the lass had been the one guiding them — wrongfully, as it seemed. But where to?

Emma's interest seemed peaked as well, as she urged him to give out some explanations.

"The wrong path? Where were you heading to?" She eyed the blonde guy carefully.

"Nowhere that concerns you." Ray chimed in, and she focused on him instead. "Look — we left there right where I told you, and I've no idea of what happened to her afterwards."

"But it does concern me," Emma replied sharply, giving him a suspicious look. "And I don't believe that. You're hiding something."

"All this questioning is giving me a headache," he grumbled, and sloppily got up on his feet. He nearly knocked his chair down in the process. "I'll go rest for a while."

Emma stood up straight. "No, hold on—"

She took a quick step towards him, and the man glanced at her with a smile upon his face.

"You might want to join," he leaned his face closer to her, his hand wrapping around her wrist and using it to draw her into him. "We could continue on with this conversation upstairs."

"I don't think—"

Killian only realized he'd decided to stop silently eavesdropping and stride his way into the exchange as he found he was already there; his hook placed on the man's shoulder as he pulling him apart from Emma. He noticed her shoulders sagging with relief as soon as her gaze went up to him, and quickly her expression changed — watching him with eyes wide like she was trying to silently convey him a message.

"We're continuing this conversation right here," Killian spoke, keeping his demeanor calm despite the clenching of his fist and the clear threat that laid in his voice, as he added: "And if I were you, I'd keep my hands off the lass."

The man gazed back and forth between Killian and Emma, baffled look on his face, and then a giggle left his mouth, raising his hands in defeat. "You're back!" he exclaimed in brief, drunken cheerfulness, and his eyes focused back on Emma. "He your boyfriend, sweetheart? He always speaks for you, huh?" he asked defiantly.

Killian acted without thinking; pushing him to a side, his hand moving to the man's neck forcefully — fulfilling the daydream that'd followed him around that entire evening, and pushing him down onto the table. The wooden table creaked under the forceful movement, and he heard a couple of glasses shattering as they'd fallen to the floor.

A string of loud curses left the man's mouth as his head was kept still against the table.

He also heard Emma's reproaching cry of his name, frustration and annoyance headed his way.

Ah, that was probably what she'd silently tried to say to him before — don't you dare make a scene.

Well, too late now.

A few eyes watched the scene curiously; those who sat in nearby tables, who'd been close enough to jump and turn at the strident sound. The bigger half of the tavern simply paid no mind to it, keeping to their own business — it wouldn't be the first time, after all, that the bar witnessed any drunken men settling a dispute with violence.

The other couple of men at the table jumped to their feet, squaring up and ready to defend themselves. They didn't seem too thrilled at the idea of fighting — too drunk probably to even stand properly, much less would they be able to fight a pirate. Many were well-aware of the fact that pirates were skilled at fighting, and wouldn't ever play fair; which made most prefer to keep away from fights like that.

Also, with all the rum they'd been drinking, it was clear upon their faces that they knew well they'd be knocked down to sleep in one simple blow.

"Easy, gentlemen — no one's here to fight," Killian charmingly said, a warning clear in his voice as he grinned coldly at them. His eyes fixed on them, awaiting for any movements — and when he didn't get any, he placed his attention back to the man under his hold, leaning his face down closer to his. "But the lady asked you a question moments ago, and I believe she's still waiting for a response."

The man groaned. "I've already told her—"

Bang. A loud blow and curses filled the place as Killian hit his head against the table; followed by an indignant exclamation from Emma:

"That's enough, Hook!"

She was staring at him with eyes wide in surprise, lips pursed together into a thin line, clearly disgusted. It was silly, but something within her gaze made him feel uneasy.

This was far from being the first time he got what he wanted through threats and violence, nor the first time in which he revelled in the power of inflicting pain, physical or mental, upon somebody else. It wasn't something to be proud of, but it was part of who he was — or that he wanted to believe. He was Captain Hook, with an earned reputation and a crew looking up to him; kindness and compassion weren't traits he was allowed to show that often; easily mistaken for signs of weakness — and weakness wasn't something that helped him earn his crew's respect, nor his enemies' fear. Strength did.

Emma, though, clearly didn't see it as strength. She didn't fear him, much less respected him — in fact, her eyes were filled with disappointment, like she expected better of him.

Of course; bloody princess with her bloody moral standards.

It was the last thing he needed that night; to have the princess' eyes burying into his soul, judging him oh-so-deeply. She could lecture him another time, about how threats and fights were just not the way —for people like her, it wasn't—, after he'd gotten all the information he could out of the man.

Killian looked away from her gaze, opting to ignore her altogether; still, unwittingly his grip on the man softened slightly.

"How about we start all over—" Killian waved his hook around as he spoke. "What do you know about our friend? The truth this time, if you please."

He'd wondered if perhaps he would have to slam his face into the table once more for him to answer, yet, Ray began talking on his own:

"Fine, fine — I wasn't entirely honest. A few days later we crossed paths, in a small village up north. I… We just wanted to give her a good fright; as payback for misleading us — we wouldn't have ever really hurt her, truly!" he tripped over his own words, nervously. "She did more harm to us than we to her, after all. Her, and her friend—"

"Friend?" Emma interrupted him, crossing her arms over her chest as confusion filled her features. "What friend?"

"A warrior — a girl warrior. I think they were traveling together," he responded. "They both put up quite a fight, and we decided it was just not worth it. That was the last time I saw her, I swear."

It'd been an unexpected piece of information. Apparently, he and Emma weren't the only team-up that'd occurred as of lately; seemingly Belle had too found herself some sort of partnership, if the man's words were to be believed. Who this woman could be, he had no clue — and judging from Emma's baffled look, she was just as clueless.

And a warrior, huh. For protection, perhaps?

Still, it was a detail he didn't think could matter much to their quest, so he decided not to waste much thought on it. He finally decided to let go of his grip on the man, taking a step back as Ray fell back into his chair, rubbing his neck with a scowl on his face.

"You fucking cunt…"

Killian ignored it, clenching his jaw to suppress the impulse of diving his fist into the man's nose.

"You said she was misleading you," Killian reminded him, brows furrowing together as he jumped into a conclusion. "You were all looking for something. What?"

"A beast's lair. People from the village had set a good amount of gold to anyone who dared hunt down the beast and kill it, so it'd stop terrorizing them," he explained through gritted teeth. "Your friend gave us wrong directions to find the beast, making us waste days of travel."

Things certainly seemed to get more interesting by the minute. Now, he had a beast thrown into the mixture — just because bloody Belle couldn't keep still for a minute and had now decided to play hero. She was sure decided to make his quest challenging, didn't she?

A quest, a missing princess, and a beast. How typical.

Looking down at the man, something told him this was all the information they were going to get from him, and honestly, he couldn't wait to finally get the hell of that place.

Killian glanced back at Emma, raising an eyebrow in a silent question she responded to with a nod. She believed he'd been saying the truth.

He nodded back at her. "Let's get the bloody hell out of here."

Disgust was clear on her face as he quickly took her hand with his own, not giving her any choice as he wasted no time in pulling her away from the scene and out of the tavern. He had no wish to remain there, share any more words with the men or feel another curious glance from anyone back there — not even have another drink; so he walked in long strides, forgetting for a moment Emma wasn't as tall as he was and her legs covered much less space than his did — making her be practically dragged out to the street by him.

Emma was the one to pull her hand away first as they were out of the tavern, rather forcefully as she took a couple of steps back.

"What was all that about?" He heard Emma's voice from behind him, loud and demanding. She kept her distance from him, body clearly tense as he turned around to watch her. Her brow furrowed deeply, and she added, "We'd agreed we wouldn't be causing any scenes."

He gave her a baffled look at her cold expression, the annoyance that laid beneath her voice. They'd gotten exactly what they'd been looking for — a lead that would help them find the missing princess; yet still, there she was looking at him like everything had just gone wrong. She was angry at him, for some reason he couldn't decipher.

He, on the other hand, had plenty of reasons to be angry.

"We had, yes — but that was before I had realized that when you'd said seduction, it meant seducing him all the way up into his bed in order for us to get something useful out of him."

Emma's eyes widened, clearly taken aback, and she clenched her jaw.

"You think I would've…?" she trailed off, shaking her head in disbelief.

"No — of course, I don't think that," he responded with exasperation, grunt leaving his lips as he hadn't meant for his words to come off like that. "I'm just pointing out that your plan wasn't the best."

"Yeah, because what you did back there was oh-so-great?" Emma snapped at him. "Slamming his head until he spilled the beans?"

"He did have it coming, after all," Killian stated, gaze hardening as he thought back at how the man looked at Emma, how he'd attempted to pull her closer —

His fist clenched.

"I could've handled him on my own," Emma exhaled soundly.

"I'd never doubt that," Killian shook his head, lips curving into a tight, bitter smile for a moment. It was true, he was fairly aware of how Emma was more than capable of looking out for herself. Perhaps she could've dealt with the drunken man on her own, with no need of his help — but he hadn't been willing to take the risk. He didn't feel like explaining, also, how he' d barely been aware of his own actions back there — how the sinking feeling that'd been building up in his stomach all night long, the boiling of his blood had taken hold of him, dictating his every move. "But as you may have noticed, my way of handling things turned quite efficient."

"Well, haven't you stopped to think perhaps your way isn't exactly the right one?" she said firmly, arms over her chest maybe to defend herself from the cold night air — or maybe to defend herself from him.

Irritation swept through him at the words. He didn't need some sort of moral lesson from her. He didn't need her thinking he was better than that, that he could be better. He didn't need the reproaching tone of her voice, the disappointment in her gaze.

His soul had been darkened ages ago, and he'd doubted it had any repair — and she needed to know that. She needed to know there was no point in caring.

An ironic chuckle escaped his lips, and he took a step towards her.

"It is to me. You've got me all wrong, lassie — don't believe for one second this is some heroic quest to find your friend. This has always been about me; me doing whatever I need to do in order to get my revenge," Killian declared darkly, eyes buried into hers as he slowly approached her. He saw her shoulders raise along with the deep breath she took; attempting to keep expression unfazed — yet he noticed something resembling hurt flash across her eyes. "I don't do heroic. That's you — who grew up surrounded by those type of stories, all that cheesiness so typical of fairytales."

He'd made his way towards her; stopping right in front of her, paying no attention to any concept of what personal space might be. Still, Emma made no move to step back from his sudden proximity; instead she tilted her head up, lifting her chin in defiance and in an attempt to make herself taller.

"That's your world, love, not mine." He leaned his face even closer to hers as he continued to speak, lowly, "These aren't the safe walls of your castle, princess — you're down here, in my world, and there's nothing wrong here with getting your hands dirty to get what you want. Remember that, lass."

"Right," Emma smiled bitterly, hands dropping to her sides. "I guess I'd forgotten what kind of man you really are."

He felt an odd pang of hurt at her cold words, at the idea that he could never be the kind of man right for her; yet he kept his posture firm, unfazed by it. He raised an eyebrow at her, forcing a cold smirk on his face. "I believe the word you're looking for is pirate, love."

"Bloody imbecile sounds more like it," Emma corrected him sharply.

"And you, an insufferable woman," Killian spat right back at her, jaw clenched. She remained silent, like she had nothing else to say and instead glared at him intensely, a silent contest of who held the coldest stare — none of them apparently willing to be the one to back away first.

Their chests nearly brushed with every agitated heave of hers, and it didn't take him long to push past his current bad temper, and realize how close they'd really gotten to each other.

Curiously, he'd never noticed the many freckles that covered the skin of her nose — nearly unnoticeable, yet from up this close, he felt like he could stop and spend hours attempting to count every one of them.

He'd been the first to break the icy-stare contest, turning his face to a side and inhaling sharply; willing his pulse to slow. What the bloody hell did this woman do to him?

He returned his gaze to meet hers, baring his teeth to her in an ironic smile. "How about for once you push past that pride of yours, and recognize me intervening back there was just to keep you away from trouble? He was a drunken man, lass; one you'd flirted with and led on this entire evening, and I'm certain he wouldn't have hesitated to try and—"

He cut himself off as anger flashed across his features, the same time Emma's head lowered, a sudden chuckle leaving her lips. It made Killian just stare at her in utter disbelief, and when she looked back up at him, he found her gaze had softened just the slightest.

"If I didn't know you any better, captain, I'd say you were jealous."

Her words took him aback, and even though they weren't meant to be taken seriously, his first instinct was to deny — deny everything, at all costs. Still, he seemed to be betrayed by his own body language; as he darted his eyes away from her and his jaw clenched upon hearing the word.

Among the silence, the effect was immediate — Emma's eyes widened in realization, a disbelieving breath leaving her lips.

"You are," she accused him, and there was nothing he could do or say to stop the satisfied glint that filled her gaze. She even seemed like she was doing her best effort to fight away a small smile that threatened to ruin her serious demeanor.

"Don't be bloody ridiculous," Killian grumbled, scowl upon his face. He shook his head, quick to change the subject. "This whole discussion has been bloody ridiculous. I got us exactly what we came here for — so I'm sure some gratitude is in order, instead of all this bloody arguing," he said matter-of-factly, finishing his words with a quick raise of his eyebrows.

Emma watched him carefully for a few seconds; seconds in which Killian felt certain he wouldn't be getting any response from her altogether, until she finally let out a deep breath and opened her mouth.

"Thank you," she quietly said, and Killian was surprised by the earnestness that came with her words; making him, for the fraction of a second, have his lips twitched upwards in a brief, unsure smile.

They fell into silence for a moment, as they both seemed to be simultaneously realizing there wasn't any point in being mad anymore.

And still, both refused to break their gaze, neither making any moves to back away. He was certain he couldn't move even if he'd wanted to; he'd gotten too close and fallen into some sort of magnetic force, keeping him frozen there.

So, they just stood there, detailing each other's gaze as only the sounds of the late night surrounded them — the chirping of a couple of crickets, the dulled-out music from the bar.

Their own breathings.

And then he saw something else flash across her eyes, which moved briefly down to his lips — so quick that if he hadn't been glaring at her so intently, he would've missed it.

It was like she was suddenly realizing now how close their faces really were, and how easy it would be to close the couple inches of space between them.

It was something Killian hadn't failed to notice, too. How could he, when her scent intoxicated him, and her proximity drove him mad — and he wondered if her taste would have a similar effect on him.

And it would be easy — so easy, and every fiber of his body screamed yes at the idea. Perhaps, in another life, he would've listened.

In another life, he would've grabbed her by the sides of her face and pressed his lips against hers, fervently. He would've pushed her back against the wall of the tavern, body pressed to hers as they explored each other's mouths; let all his frustration and confusion and want to be known through desperate kisses. They'd breathe each other's air, get lost within one another.

But this life, however, was far more complicated than that. So, he held back, deciding to be the one to finally step away, breaking the spell.

He tried to ignore the confused, disappointed glint in her eyes, and cleared his throat:

"I'll see you tomorrow, princess. Good night."

"Okay, hear this out: 'Chimeras are monstrous fire-breathing hybrid creatures, with the appearance of a lion, and a goat's head arising from its back,'" Emma read out loud for him, and then raised her head from the book with a lifted eyebrow, silently asking his opinion.

Killian stood in front of the map that hung on the wall, having twisted around to watch her as she'd begun to read. She stared at him as he shook his head nearly immediately.

"We're looking for a fire-maned lion," he reminded her, before turning his back on her again, eyes focused on the paper in front of him. "I'm sure a bloody goat coming out of its back would be a detail no one would forget to mention."

Emma sighed deeply, elbows leaning on top of the pirate's desk, and her head resting on her left palm, as she went through the pages of the book with the other. "Fine, chimeras are crossed out then," she mumbled, more to herself; and this time, it didn't bother her that yet again she was nowhere near to finding some useful information. It was actually a relief of sorts — as she guessed any creature Belle had actually gone after could never be much worse than a fire-breathing goat-lion.

She reassumed her reading; which, she was quickly starting to get tired of. The book was about five hundred pages, thick and heavy — an old bestiary, that had been covered in dust within her library and she'd carried with herself in hopes they could give it a good use having their current situation in mind.

She refused to believe that among the hundreds of pages there wouldn't be anything on the creature haunting the nearby village — whatever it actually was.

Which, at least, Killian had managed to get some interesting information on his hands while she'd been home. As soon as she'd set foot into his cabin, plopping the book into the table loudly, he had rested his hips on the table next to her as he told her about some rumor that had been quite the sensation among commoners, about some village outskirts of her kingdom, terrorized by a lion-like monster from the woods.

Emma had responded with a silent nod, getting comfortable in the chair for what seemed would be a long afternoon, and opened the book.

Killian, instead, had moved to the wall, occupying himself with the ubication of the village. She had heard him mumbling a couple of times, making her lift her head from her task only to quickly realize they were only thoughts he'd spoken out loud to himself. Besides that, no words were really exchanged in the hours that passed.

She could attempt to blame it on the fact that both of them were pretty centered on their own tasks to be engaging in any type of casual talk, yet she knew well that wasn't the case.

She had no idea of what to say to him, not after what happened the previous night. It wasn't the fight that bothered her, that was clear. He'd been an annoyingly frustrating, hot-headed, bad-mannered pirate, yes; but it'd been a petty argument she'd been willing to see past.

No, it had nothing to do with that — but more with what had happened after, when the night had fallen awfully quiet, and so had they.

She'd seen it in his eyes, behind his sudden anger, was the insecurity and jealousy her act at the pub had caused. He cared, more than she'd ever expected him to — and along with that realization, came the fact that they stood too close, and the knowledge that she wanted him even closer.

Her heart had threatened to burst out of her chest, and she allowed herself to wonder about things she'd never thought of before. Of how the skin of his cheek and his stubble would feel like under her hands, or what the taste of his lips would be like.

It'd been a brief moment that'd led her to the realization that her feelings towards the pirate ran a whole lot deeper than she'd ever imagined, than she'd ever meant them to.

And then there was the realization that every time she tried to listen to her instincts and go along with what she felt, she was always a step behind. Killian had pulled away before she could act on her feelings, making it all over before it even started, eyes vacant of the usual warmth that was only meant for her.

Perhaps it just was meant to be a sign that she couldn't trust him wholeheartedly; that there was always bound to be a distance keeping the two of them apart, even though magnetic forces appeared to pull them together whenever they got close enough.

That was what bothered her. So, she stuck with what she was supposed to do; because maybe that way all the complications and realizations could be kept away from her mind.

And though she couldn't read him as well as he did her, Emma guessed he'd been having a similar trail of thought; she couldn't fathom what his real reasons for his silence and distance were, but all since they'd gotten to work, he seemed just as unwilling as she was to attempt to acknowledge the other's presence.

He didn't want to speak, and she didn't either. Good. She was okay with that.

Yet, for some reason, the lingering tense feeling, the distance between the two of them seemed to put her in quite an ill humor.

"Are you certain that's all we know?" Emma lifted her gaze from the book once more, asking with slight exasperation. "Any details a bit more… specific?"

"Aye, princess, I'm certain," Killian answered monotonously, hand scratching the stubble under his chin as he kept his sight on the map. "Giant. Fiery. Terrifying. Adjectives that, if you ask me, I wouldn't ever be too thrilled to use together. Certainly, they don't offer any good augury for our quest."

She agreed — the situation that seemed to be placed ahead of them could certainly be troubling; they had enough problems with their hunt for the missing princess, and adding a possible encounter with a fierce beast to it wasn't thrilling news for either of them.

In what kind of trouble had Belle gotten to, and what could possibly have her believing that was the next best thing to do with her newfound freedom?

Perhaps the isolation had truly done some irreparable damage to her mind.

Even though she'd been reading since the moment she'd arrived at his ship, a couple hours give or take, Emma still hadn't managed to reach past even a quarter of the book. Griffins, manticores, sphinxes… The list of creatures she'd read about so far went on, yet none of them got close enough to what they seemed to be after — whatever that may be.

"I need a break," Emma announced with a deep sigh, frustration sweeping through her after she'd quickly passed the last couple of pages, unable to concentrate on the words. She closed the book loudly, leaning back into the chair as she watched Killian turn his neck slightly to raise his eyebrows at her. "This is pointless, and I'll surely go mad if I read one more word."

"Stay calm, love; I'm sure we'll find something eventually."

"I hope you're right," Emma sighed deeply, and then showed a half smile, more to herself. "Ironic how useful she could be right now. Give Belle a book and an hour, and she was sure bound to find something useful."

"If she were here, lass, we wouldn't have to investigate anything in the first place," Killian responded with a snort.

Emma rolled her eyes, and snapped, "Yeah, that's why I called it an irony."

Killian didn't respond, and Emma pondered on the idea of leaving the cabin to stretch out her legs after long hours of sitting down. She hoped some fresh air would help clear her mind and set her right back into her task; also, she'd receive with open arms anything that took her away from the silence, and the mixed-up emotions she found herself dealing with any time she glanced at the pirate.

She pushed the chair back from the table, and she'd been slowly rising to her feet when she heard him speak:

"Why do you think she did it?"

"Hm?" Emma looked at him with curiosity upon hearing his voice.

"Go after the beast, I mean," he clarified and gave her a slight shrug. "I find it a peculiar thing for her to do. It's rather obvious it isn't about the gold."

Emma smiled slightly to herself. Of course, it wouldn't be about the gold, that was clear as day. Belle wasn't that type of person, to have her mind troubled over matters such as wealth — not like she even had to, considering the type of life she'd always had back in her kingdom. Gold wasn't something the princess ever lacked, or longed after.

She didn't even have to think about the answer to his question, as it came to her near immediately — almost like Belle herself whispered it down onto her ear, in the same way she had back in the times their younger selves had shared together.

Wouldn't it be wonderful to do something that actually mattered? A grand adventure — like the ones in the storybooks.

"You're right, it's not gold she's after," Emma shook lightly her head, leaning her hips against the edge of the wooden desk. "Knowing her, she's just trying to do something good, just for the sake of it. That's what she wanted — to do something to be remembered for, leave her mark."

"Most would say that's just being stupid."

The words took her aback, and Emma stared at him with an annoyed scowl. "Well, I say that's just being brave."

"I didn't say otherwise, love, but bear in mind, both can be the same," Killian stated. He seemed to be pondering on something for a couple moments, and then chuckled lightly. "I guess I've been mistaken about you noble-girls all along. You're fiercer than I'd ever imagined."

His words were something she wasn't expecting, and Emma lowered her head, attempting to hide the slightly surprised laugh that fell from her lips. "Are you trying to compliment me, Hook?"

She'd expected some cheeky response; the teasing flirtatious tone she'd grown accustomed to, or some sarcastic words. Still, the response, while lighthearted, it bore no glimpse of sarcasm or tease to it. He meant it as a compliment — or even, she guessed, as a peace-offering after the tense moments.

"I am, actually."

The slightest of smiles peeked upon her lips, as she was unsure of what to respond. Whatever had been bothering him, he seemed to be ready to see past it — and while Emma still wasn't sure on how to act upon her newfound feelings, she was used to lighthearted, warm conversations between them, and it felt like a relief to allow herself to be that with him again.

"Well, you know; I was wrong about pirates, too," Emma began, that being her own response to their silent agreement to act normal again. She slowly made her way to him, making sure she nudged his shoulder playfully as she stopped by his side. "You're not as awful as I thought. Even, you might make some good company — sometimes."

Killian's eyebrows were raised at her, his posture relaxing as he now had Emma standing by his side, and she was very thankful for the shift in the mood around the cabin; especially when he flashed her his trademark cocky smirk, and she had to suppress the happy smile that threatened to give her away on how much effect the pirate captain really had on her.

"Believe me, lass," he spoke lowly, and took a small step further closer to her — and it should be illegal for his voice to sound the way it did, and much less look the way he did. Especially now that she was very aware of the feelings he incited on her, and she still felt very uncertain of how to deal with it. He continued, in nearly a purr, "I haven't even begun to show you how much of a good company I can truly be."

And certainly, it had to be illegal to say things like that — and she had to fight the urge to blush and look away.

Instead, Emma kept her eyes locked on his, dramatically rolling them and groaning out loud. "Oh, believe me, I don't want to know."

Maybe it was that she was such an awful liar, but Killian's only response to her words was to beam a wide smile at her, one she couldn't dare not slightly imitate.

She swore if she didn't focus on anything that wasn't Killian's bright, handsome smile she might go mad right then and there.

"We're getting closer," she stated, staring at the map in front of them. Killian had circled the area where the village would be, not too far from the outskirts of her kingdom.

"Aye." Killian nodded. "I estimate it'll take us less than half a day ride there. It won't be a long trip, thankfully."

"Us?" Emma repeated, his words making her turn her neck quickly to stare at him, in disbelief. The possibility of her coming along had never even occurred to her — right there where she stood, after all, was easily the farthest outside her castle she'd ever reached by herself. And despite her wishing it wasn't like that, she did feel like she was somehow bound to her kingdom — making the idea of actually leaving it feel somewhat strange to her.

And it was truly the most terrifying, yet exciting idea she'd ever faced.

Killian laughed at her rather obvious surprise, like it was outright stupid to even consider not bringing her along.

"Come on, love, I've told you already we make a good team," he said and wiggled his eyebrows at her. And then, to add to the baffled and surely idiotic look upon her features, he reached his hand to her face, taking a loose strand of blonde hair and tucking it behind her ear. "Besides, hadn't you said you wanted to see the world? Well, this might as well be the first step — and, lass, I do intend to take you on this adventure with me."

Killian offered her a wholehearted grin, earnest enough to make her feel frozen right where she stood, as her heart seemed suddenly filled with warmth, and it picked up its pace just the slightest. She didn't hold back the wide smile that showed on her face, letting him be aware of how happy the words really made her.

He wanted her to go with him, by his side — and that, along with the way he was smiling down at her, brought to her a sudden, terrible impulse of grabbing him by his collar and smacking his lips down to hers.

Emma shifted her gaze to a side and cleared her throat, as suddenly holding his gaze was just too much.

"I guess I need to remind you, Hook, my birthday ball is only a couple days away — and if one thing I'm sure of, is that my parents –the king and queen– will have my head if I dare miss it." She smirked slightly, and added, "And surely, they'll have yours as well, for dragging me into this."

"Oh, I'm sure that would be a rather unfortunate first impression to the king and queen," Killian chuckled, and then smirked smugly at her. "Then we shall wait after the ball, princess."

A/N: Aha, a really long chapter - with one of my favorite moments I have written so far. Next week's chapter will be even longer, and I really can't wait for you guys to read it! ;)

Just to clear some things out, in case you haven't caught on to where this whole Belle-situation is going to: I'm following Belle's plotline from S1 and S2 of OUAT Canon. So, pretty much she's a prisoner to the Dark One, falls in love and then leaves after a failed TLK. The men in the tavern, and the beast they refer to all come from her Yao Guai plotline I believe happened in some of the earlier chapters in S2.