Part 1:

A/U: The Evil Queen's dark curse backfired and she disappeared, hasn't been seen for years. Princess Emma, in her early 20's, is kept under close watch by the King and Queen for fear that someday the Evil Queen will reveal herself. They believe that Emma will be the Queen's revenge because Emma is the only one the Queen can actually still harm in this realm (if she were still alive). To have any semblance of a life Emma escapes in the nights to befriend the villagers, always returning to her parents before sunrise. One night Emma finds herself in trouble; will a dashing pirate come to her rescue?

She knew she shouldn't have stolen it, but it was so beautiful. Emma let the golden, silky material flow through her fingers like water. Gazing at the cloak she'd just taken, she sighed to herself, stolen away in the back alley of the Looking Glass Tavern as the shopkeeper and his men ran past without a second glance in her direction.

She didn't think anyone was even there. They must have still been in the shop with the candles doused. Emma had every intention of paying the shopkeeper back; she just hadn't brought enough gold with her that night. She would kindly return tomorrow night and pay them back with interest! She was Princess of this kingdom, she wouldn't steal.

Leaning up against the wooden door, she buried the cloak in her rucksack. She couldn't even wear it now or else they would catch her. Just as she was flinging the bag over her shoulders the door swung open and smacked her off balance. She fell to the ground with a thump.

"Ouch! Damnit."

Out stumbled a dark silhouette with a swinging black coat against the tavern light. He turned to face her, surprised to find anyone there, let alone a girl on the ground.

"Apologies, Lass," he held out his hand to assist her up, "I didn't think anyone would be back here. It was not my intention to knock you over." He grinned when she took his hand and stood. Emma was brushing her dress off before she even looked up at him. When she did she forced herself to hold her composure as his features were now bathed in the light.

She sucked in a breath as she surveyed his handsome face – scruffy, hard jaw, black rimmed eyes and beautiful dark locks. His eyes, they were as blue as the day's sky and as breathtaking as the sunset. She realized she hadn't spoken in at least 30 seconds.

"It's alright. I shouldn't have been against the door. It's not safe."

"I do like a girl who likes little danger." He grinned again, stepping into the light, into her personal space. In the blink of an eye, she saw it; she saw the glint off something silver at his side. He was too close for her to really get a good look but out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw a hook. A hook were his left hand should be. "Say, lass? If you're really interested in a little danger, why don't you let me buy you a drink?" He was breathing her personal air now, practically whispering; his eyes swept over her chest, combing her long blond hair and back up to meet her emerald eyes. Something about his eyes roaming over her, drinking her in, sent a flurry through her chest.

"Hmm, I like the sound of that." She was thoroughly enticed now. A hook for a hand and that beautiful face, oh it was a temping offer. "Lead the way." She nodded towards the still open door of the tavern.

She'd followed him inside but sidestepped him and found a table in the back dimly lit corner with a view of the window. She needed to keep an eye out in case the shopkeeper came back looking for her as well as keep an eye on the sunrise. It was only after midnight, she had a few hours before the sun came up but she had to be careful. Always careful.

He cleared his throat as he sat down beside her on the bench with two pints of ale. "You haven't even told me your name, lass." He remarked, pushing the ale towards her with his hook. With his hand brought the stein to his lips as he turned to face her expectantly.

"You haven't shared yours." Emma teased, also bringing the drink to her lips.

"Ah, you haven't heard of me?" He laughed mockingly, lightly brushing the ends of her hair with his hook. Eyeing the hook, Emma licked the foam off her lips. She couldn't help but feel oddly drawn to this man.

"My guess," she made a show of surveying him. He was wearing nearly all black: a long leather coat, leather trousers, and a ruffled shirt; the only color about him was his red vest and exposed chest. To top the ensemble off, he wore a chain of skull and crossbones charms. "You're a pirate… hmm, with a hook for a hand. Well I've heard many tales of a pirate with a hook for a hand but one can never be too sure," she answered coyly.

"Well darling, you are on the right track. Captain Hook at your service." He grinned, mock bowing. Oh, if only he knew, she thought.

"Captain Hook, at my service." She mused, turning the words over in her head. Yes, he was fearsome, and devilishly handsome. "Well lucky me," Emma smirked, gazing into his eyes. It wasn't easy in this light, but she was fairly certain she could dive straight into his dark blue pools that were his eyes. They were utterly enchanting and only added to how dangerous he really was.

"Yes, lucky you," he drawled. "And you're still not going to tell me your name?" He asked.

Emma watched him curiously. She would've loved to give this beautiful man her name but she never gave her name when she was outside the castle walls. She'd spent years carefully crafting her flighty yet friendly presence among the villagers as someone else, never Princess Emma. Her family had kept her under such a tight watch (obviously not tight enough) that she hadn't technically been outside the castle walls for public appearances in ages.

Her parents tended to all the kingdom's affairs and when anyone came into the castle for official business she wasn't allowed to attend meetings. When they did have events, it was only princes and princesses, kings and queens, and important people from other kingdoms that actually saw her, that knew she existed at all. But the villagers never came and that allowed her to keep up a false identity among them.

No, she would not tell anyone her given name outside the castle walls. Leaning into his ear she finally whispered, "You may call me Swan." Declining back she grinned again as the slightly awe-struck expression flickering across his features. His eyes lit up like the moon and she was the sun reflecting on him. Now it was his turn to take pause as his gaze staggered over her.

"Such a beautiful lass stolen away in the alleyway late at night; you're either hiding from someone or… looking for someone?" He finally spoke, sipping his ale, still not breaking eye contact and she was thankful he hadn't said what he really meant – that she was a prostitute. Boy, was he thinking it though, it was written all over his face.

"I like the sound of the latter," Emma purred, leaning into him again. Her hands found what she was looking for as she grasped the cool metal of his hook, tracing the tip. She was flirting with danger but she no longer cared. Hook studied her, entranced, lightly licking his lips. "But I was actually hiding." She continued. Letting go of the hook and fumbling for her rucksack, she pulled out the watery, golden material.

"You see, the shopkeeper wasn't so happy when I took this." She shrugged her shoulders, letting the material sieve through her fingers again. "I was going to pay them back, I swear," they both laughed together at that. He was a pirate, it was his "job" to steal, and in an odd way she knew she could trust him with this information.

His eyes glinted with a mischievous grin and she was utterly drawn to his treacherous charisma. She could see how captivated he already was by her and she too was falling further down the rabbit hole with each passing second.

Abruptly, she let the liquid material of the cloak slip through her fingers; she scooped up her glass and raised it in solute. He tapped his glass to hers, making a light clinking sound before taking a long gulp. "I think it's time for another round, Swan," he spoke when his glass was empty. She simply grinned when he stood.

Several rounds later, Emma distinctly felt any inhibitions she had left escaping her. She had been enthralled by this man for the latter half of the night and had nearly forgotten that she needed to be watching the window for both the sunrise and the shopkeeper. It wasn't until she was on her way back from the water closet that she overheard a few patrons whispering about a girl who'd stolen a cloak and the knights would be after her in the morning, if they weren't already coming. Well that escalated quickly, she thought, what was so damn special about that cloak? It was time to go.

"Around round, love?" He tried to stand but all it took was her hand on his thigh for his attention to refocus on her. She knew she had to get out of this pub before someone recognized her or the royal knights showed up, she'd already lingered here too long. But she also knew that her body was warm at his touch when he placed his hand over hers and hook on her thigh. She boldly ran a finger along his stubbled jaw, watching his eyes close and face tuck into her hand briefly before snapping open again.

"I think," he inched forward, once again invading her personal space, his lips now hovering just over hers, "it's time to go," he breathed. Emma glanced at his lips and knew exactly what she wanted as she felt a shock wave of heat surge low in her belly. She brought her hand down to his hook, once again caressing it in a venereal fashion. He eyed her suggestive gesture as she finally nodded to his arched eyebrow.

"Lead the way, Captain."

~!

"Where are you taking me, Captain?" Emma crooned, clutching his hook as she followed him out the pub doors. Something about that damn thing, she was fascinated with it.

"To the docks of course."

"To your ship." It wasn't a question but a light bulb dawning in her head. She quickly glanced over her shoulder, watching for any followers. His ship would be safe until sunrise.

"Ah, the Jolly Roger - she's a beauty, Swan." He led her down to the docking bridge; across it was in fact a pirate ship. The white sails lightly fluttered in the wind as Hook cheerfully strutted across the bridge with Emma trailing behind.

He guided her to a square hatch in the upper deck. "After you," He gestured she was to climb down into the hole. "I'll be down in just a moment, love. Just want to make sure we have our privacy." He turned to go but Emma caught his collar in her grasp.

"Don't make me wait too long Captain," She whispered just before turning to climb down the ladder into the cabin.

Dropping off the ladder, she surveyed what she presumed were his living quarters. A lamp flickered across the cabin on a desk dimly illuminating the small space. Running her fingers along the edges of maps and documents, Emma made her way to the bookshelves in the back corner. Nothing but old star charts and atlases of far off places. But on the lower shelve was a small chest. She rummaged through it meagerly until she heard Hook climbing down the ladder. She swiftly tucked the chest back into place and found Hook now at the base.

"Are we alone now, Captain?" Emma seized the lapels of his leather coat, not waiting for an answer as their lips crashed together like waves of an angry hurricane. His soft moan was all the confirmation she needed. She felt his hand tangle in her hair and his hook snake through her cloak around her waist nearly crushing her body into his.

They stumbled together further into the cabin; she felt her legs brush the edge of the desk as his hand trailed along her collar sweeping the hair off her neck. No sooner had his lips found her pulse point did they trace her neck with hot kisses. A quiet sigh escaped her lips as she gripped his lapels pushing them off his shoulders. The coat dropped to the ground with a dull thud as her fingers raced to free her own cloak and flinging it to the floor.

Emma felt his hand and hook now reaching just up her thighs and lifting her onto the desk, so he was perched between her legs. Slightly arching her back, his mouth laid a trail to the valley of her breasts as his fingers now worked the laces of her corset. She nearly couldn't think straight, every muscle in her body, every fiber was screaming for her to just take him right there on the desk. He let the corset fall as his lips found their way back to her mouth. It was electric; kissing him was like breathing fire into her chest. Her hands cupped his delicious leather clad ass as he rocked his hips into hers, feeling every bit of him through her dress.

She felt his warm hand slide up her leg, raising the hem of her skirts and he was nearly there – at that moment she scooted off the table, twisting them around as she guided him towards the bed.

"Oh, I like a woman who takes control," he muttered, shuffling backwards, grasping at her waist.

"Oh yeah, Captain?" Her hands scraped at the hem of his shirt as she roughly pulled it over his shoulders. Oh his delicious chest, she splayed her fingers through the dark hair, humming to herself. Within seconds she'd pushed him onto the bed, climbing eagerly on top of him. "I'm going to need to do something for me, Captain." She leaned forward, whispering into his ear, her legs straddling his hips.

"What's that Swan?" He exhaled into her hair as she pulled away, discarding her own blouse, now facing him bare-chested. Her skin burned white hot under his cerulean gaze as it travelled from her face to her breasts. She wanted him; she needed to have him more than anything she'd ever needed.

"Touch me. Fuck me until we forget our names."

In seconds his mouth found her nipple and his hand found the other, both kneading and twisting the flesh. She groaned at his touch, revving her hips against his very hard erection. Reluctant to part, she wiggled off as he too groaned at the separation. She quickly shucked his boots off, untied his leathers, and removed his pants in once quick motion, watching his length spring into action. Faster than she'd ever moved before her skirts littered the cabin floor and she was climbing on top of him once again.

"You are a bloody siren, Swan." Hook moaned.

"And you are a gorgeous man." Emma breathed as he flipped her over onto her back. She felt his gaze piercing her, devouring her, relishing her as golden tresses splayed across his pillow and hips bucking up at him, seeking his fill.

"I prefer dashing rapscallion," he teased as he leaned back, opening her legs to him.

"Scoundrel," she groaned as his warm fingers found her center, caressing gentle circles until she was panting and moaning, "get on with it!" Quivering beneath him, aching for his touch Emma couldn't think straight. She needed him, but he was teasing her, drawing out her pleas.

"Now, Swan, you'll have to be patient." He was torturing her as he lowered his mouth to her now dripping folds. Her breath caught in her chest as she felt his tongue and teeth set to work. She was gasping and clawing at the back of his head, singing his praises now as she felt the growing sensation in her center. It didn't take long as she pushed her hips into his face, swearing violently as she reached her climax.

~!

What felt like hours later they both lay panting and aching, both thoroughly sated, their passion finally taking its toll. Emma had practically begged to forget her name from their ministrations and she damn well forgot it. She had never known another man like him. She'd been with men before, sure, but none like him.

Gone were the old fashioned ideas of waiting until marriage for her. Deep down she feared she may never marry or at least fall in love. Knowing she was the product of true love made it essentially in her blood to be destined for her own true love. And yet she always felt like something or someone was missing, a dull ache she carried around in her pockets. So why wait for someone she may never truly love to have her when there were perfectly suitable lovers at her disposal? And this man was by far more suitable than the rest.

Looking over at Hook, his eyes were closed, his dark hair disheveled, she reached her throbbing arm to push the damp hair out of his eyes. At her touch, his eyes flickered open, and a light smile tugged at his lips.

"How was that, Swan?" his hushed, lilted tone washed over her scattering chills throughout her body.

"That was… incredible," the last word tumbled from her lips as he pulled her limp hand to his mouth, kissing each of her fingers gently, her breath caught high in her throat.

"And you are marvelous, my dear." His eyes fluttered closed. He was still lightly clutching her hand, holding it to his chest. Emma gazed up at him, watching his chest rise and fall in the sun creeping through the porthole.

The sun!

It was time to go.

"Captain?"

"Hmm?"

She leaned forward, kissing his forehead gently before untangling herself from him.

"Same time tomorrow night?" She asked pulling her skirts off the floor, reassembling her dress.

"Mhmm." He was asleep.

She crept up the latter hoping he had heard her. The fearsome Captain Hook, excursionist of the realms, and purloiner of hearts.