"Having trouble with your sea legs, Swan?" the mirth in Hook's voice caused her stomach to churn, "I've a cure for that just inside my cabin."
Emma swallowed back the bile caused by the swaying pirate ship, and then she glared up at its captain. With a lazy smile, he stood before her, all-steady and statuesque—like a deep rooted tree during an earthquake. His posture didn't seem to waver, not even as everything else did. The ship dipped and surged over a wave then, and Emma hurled herself over the railing, heaving-up whatever was left inside her to heave.
Killian Jones winced and his mirthful expression quickly turned pained at the sight.
"No sense in torturing yourself, love. My cabin is your cabin."
Emma could practically hear the smirk return to his face. Slowly, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and then fixed him with a cold stare.
"ENOUGH with the innuendo or I won't even bother to lean over the side of this ship the next time something comes up!"
Killian cocked a curious eyebrow as he examined her from head to toe. Something comes up?
"How much more could that lithe little body of yours possibly contain?"
Emma's already sour expression, soured further, and she opened her mouth to respond. Killian didn't get the chance to know whether she'd be sick or just yell at him. Snow White rushed to her daughter's side with a steaming cup of ginger tea in her hands, interrupting their exchange.
"Drink this, Emma. It will help settle your stomach."
The captain of the ship looked away, bored and unimpressed as his seasick passenger brought the cup to her mouth. One whiff of the sweet-smelling ginger and Emma Swan was fighting the urge to heave.
"Ladies," the captain pleaded as he slipped his hook through the handle of their cup and tossed it aside, "Take the advice of a well-traveled seafarer—all that Emma needs is a good bedding."
The look the two women gave him was nothing short of murderous. Killian Jones smiled and raised a hand and a hook in surrender.
"Truly," he assured them with a most earnest, blue gaze, "The stern of the ship is the best place for a lass with a shaky pair of sea legs. I promise you'll find my cabin to be very hospitable."
Emma gave him a bored look.
"Bet you've used that line plenty of times."
Hook's smile curved-up in that cocky way of his as he sent her a wink.
"He may be right, Emma. I think laying down would be the best thing for you."
Snow White soothingly rubbed her daughters back as they shared a nod.
"Maybe," Emma agreed, "But I don't need an escort." She looked pointedly at Killian, "I know where the Captain's Cabin is."
Emma Swan took a proud step forward, forgetting that her legs were unaccustomed to such unstable ground. The ship surged over a small wave and Emma easily fell forward, colliding into Killian's chest. Her stomach churned from the abrupt movement but there was nothing left inside of her to heave. Through her spinning vision, Emma gazed up at the blurry face before her. When her vision cleared, she groaned upon recognizing Hook's damnable smile.
"Perhaps you do need an escort." Killian suggested as he looked to Snow White for approval.
Mary Margaret didn't refuse him and Killian smiled, all-too pleased with himself.
"Shall I carry you, love?"
Emma glared up at him as she tightly clenched her fists. Her eyes were quick to widen when she realized that it was Hook's shirt she was clinging to.
"No," she replied as she disentangled herself from the deep V of the pirates shirt, "Not if you value your life."
Hook smiled in amusement at that and settled on placing a steady hand on her back as he steered her towards the cabin. Emma's thoughts drifted to the pirate's black attire. She stole a sideways glance at the man who looked like he had raided some Halloween costume store. Her eyes wandered to the deep V that exposed a manly expanse of chest and Emma quickly scolded herself for looking.
"Look all you like, Swan. I'm no wide-eyed lad—ignorant to the fancies of women. Your secretive glances don't frighten me."
Emma's fist ached to punch the smile from his cocky face. She settled, instead, on rolling her eyes, but even that made her dizzy. Her feet stumbled a bit.
"The world doesn't revolve around you, Hook."
Killian gave a laugh as he guided his off-balance passenger through the door of his cabin.
"Never thought it did, love. My boots have always been firmly planted on whatever ground I'm standing on. You, Swan, on the other hand, frequently seem to find the world spinning around you."
Emma glared up at him as they continued to move forward and Killian flashed a dashing smile.
"So, you see, darling, if the world revolves around anyone—it's you."
Emma could still feel the rocking of the ship inside his cabin, but it wasn't nearly as rough as it had been on the main deck. Still, between each ebb and flow, she could see two of everything, and seeing one cocky pirate was enough.
"The only reason things are spinning is because I'm on this damn ship!"
Damn ship!? With a sudden gasp, Emma felt the sensation of falling and her feet flew up into the air as the back of her knees collided with something solid. The captain gave a slow shake of his head as he gazed down at the weak-kneed woman laying on his bed. He was disappointed at how easy it had been to knock her off her feet.
"Feeling better, love?"
Shakily, Emma pushed herself up on to her elbows to glare at the damnable pirate. The effort only intensified the spinning of her head and she kept her mouth shut as a caution from throwing-up. Anger still burned in her eyes and the look she gave him spoke volumes of the curses her mouth didn't say. Killian gave her a lazy smile and then wagged a thoughtful hook.
"Swan, I'd wager that you've always been susceptible to motion-sickness."
Emma looked at him through narrowed eyes—not so much from the truth in his words, but from the way he smiled down at her like some open-shirted, cheesy-romance-hero about to make a conquest.
"All manner of motion-sickness," he continued as he went down on one knee.
Emma stiffened and her heart gave a startled beat as she watched the man kneel at the foot of the bed. His chest was nearly level to her knees which had buckled over the mattress. Emma could only take in a jagged breath as he lifted one of her legs—too stunned and light-headed to properly react.
"What are you—"
Killian slid his hook inside the top of her boot as his hand gripped the heel to pull it off.
"Horse-drawn-carriage sickness—or, more appropriately, car-sickness. Undoubtedly, you have sea-sickness," Killian paused to wink at Emma as he set her boot aside, never taking his eyes from hers.
Emma merely gaped at the pirate as her head swam with dizziness and the velvety tones of a voice that kept talking about sickness. Encouraged by her silence, Killian flashed a mischievous smile and slowly brushed his hook down the side of her knee.
"Perhaps," he began as his hook slipped beneath her boot, "You've even felt a bit of love-sickness."
Emma swallowed as Hook's hand grasped the back of her calf and then slowly moved downwards, sending tingles up her spine.
"There's no motion that compares to the motion between two lovers. Surely, darling, you've been made dizzy from those sorts of motions?"
Before Killian's hand could tug at her boot, Emma kicked out of it, causing the boot to fly from his grasp. Emma braced herself up on her hands and fixed him with a dark look.
"Not nearly as dizzy I am with my sickness of you!"
Killian laughed and stood to his feet.
"You wound me, Swan," he feigned as he placed a hand over his heart and stumbled backwards as if he had literally taken a blow from her words. "But I can assure you, love," he began as his infamous smirk returned to his face, "One night with me, and you'll never have motion-sickness again."
"GET OUT!"
With surprising force, a feather-stuffed pillow flew across the room, hitting Hook right in the face. He took the pillow in his hands and matched the hostile expression that the blonde woman was giving him.
"Aye," he agreed, "Before you throw something that's breakable."
He turned his back on her then, and walked away without another word. Still, Emma's eyes followed him to the door of the cabin—suspicious of him always. She watched as he paused at the door, stopping abruptly as if he had forgotten something. Killian turned around, his eyes were cast downwards and his brow was wrinkled in contemplation.
"I once had a shipmate who was prone to superstition," he confessed as his gaze rose from the floor to meet Emma's, "He once told me that 'sea-sickness is the heart's warning that a foe travels amongst you'."
Emma held the pirates gaze, searching his eyes for some clue as to what he was getting at, but she found no deception in his face.
"If you believe in that sort of thing, love—you should keep your guard, and take your aim at someone other than me." Hook gave her a lazy smile and then opened the cabin door, "I'm not your enemy, Swan."
Emma rolled her eyes as he walked back out to the main deck, leaving the door to swing closed behind him. Her head was still spinning and her stomach was still churning, but his words helped to steady her. Emma slowly laid her head down on to the mattress and then rolled on to her side. She thought of Henry. She thought of Neal. She thought about how she always seemed to find foes at every turn. Emma shut her eyes, trying to block-out the dizziness and the despair. If she could say one thing for sea-sickness—it certainly had taken her mind off of her troubles. After all, it was hard to feel the loss of loved ones when she constantly felt the urge to lose her lunch. But behind her closed eyelids, her head grew calm. Soon, Emma drifted off into a deep sleep, dreaming of magic portals and sea-sick captain's of pirate ships.