Damn. I love me some Captain Swan - this is also posted on one of my tumblrs (poisoned-with-prudence) so... Yeah.
It was hardly Emma Swan's fault that she had forgotten to get a Halloween costume – I mean, considering how crazy (scratch that, crazier) the town has been since we got back, Mary Margret Mom shouldn't feel too disappointed in me if I had other things on my mind instead of some Halloween party, Emma inwardly rationalized, attempting not to feel too guilty; Mary Margret had been excited about this party ever since she heard about it and had been practically hysterical over the idea that it was their first official holiday together as a 'real' family. Emma flopped onto her bed in self-admonishment and began to wallow – what was she going to do? People were taking Halloween seriously and the party at town hall would be littered with townsfolk who had put careful planning and consideration into their costumes. Mary Margret would be able to sense that her daughter had forgotten by just contrasting her with anyone in the room.
Emma was still wallowing when she heard a knock at her apartment's door.
"Emma? Emma?" a voice called through the wood. Emma deduced that the voice belonged to Henry considering that she didn't really know anyone else with the voice of a prepubescent boy. As she opened the door, her son came bounding in. He seemed a bit lackluster that day with his shoulders hunched and his arms crossed. "Guess who I am," he said in a tone that could be considered a beacon of coming snark.
"Peter Pan," Emma smiled vaguely, gesturing to the all green getup. "That's a great costume, kid – better than mine, at least."
"I don't think that's possible. I look ridiculous! My mom picked it out and now," Henry crossed the room to flop down on Emma's bed like she had only moments ago. "I'm going to look like a dork."
Emma raised an eyebrow; she had never seen Henry so embarrassed. It was a pretty refreshing change from his usually overly confident demeanor. "You don't look like a dork – I'm going to look like a dork when I show up without a costume…" she sighed and sat down on the bed beside him. "Come on. It'll be fine."
"You don't have a costume?" Henry asked, sitting up at attention – this could only bode ill for Emma.
"Yeah, no costume – I forgot…" Emma replied. She waited for him to respond but he just stared at her, expectantly, like she had forgotten to say something, too. "Do you… Do you have any ideas?"
A devilish smile spread across his face. "I thought you'd never ask," he said as he pulled Emma off the bed, out of the apartment, and into the night.
. . .
Hook was biding his time; he couldn't go after Rumplestiltskin right away, of course. These things took planning. So, in the meantime, he would wait for the opportune time and enjoy what feeble fun this small town had to offer. Tonight, that meant attending a sort of masque ball in celebration of a holiday called 'Halloween'. What a ridiculous word, he mused to himself as he started to dress in a costume that he was sure would irk one delightfully feisty young blonde to the point of near-blows.
By the time he had arrived, the party was in full swing – Snow White was dressed as a literal swan and her husband was dressed (quite appropriately) as a prince. In fact, about half of the attendees were dressed as their fairytale/real counterparts with the other half dressing as myriad renderings of what he was told were classic Halloween costumes.
Despite his efforts no to, his eyes searched the crowd for a certain somebody to no avail – it seemed as though she had decided not to come. Killian felt oddly dejected at that idea, and his costume which had once seemed so witty was now feeble and somewhat embarrassing.
He was just about to leave when he saw her: Emma Swan. She was being pulled by a young boy who was draped in bright green linens and topped with a felt hat, speared with a red feather. What in the blazes of hell is he supposed to be? Hook thought before turning his attentions to the woman in tow.
She wore a pair of leather pants and a corset in deep purple over a billowy white blouse which had a deeper neckline than she would have usually worn. Around her waist there was a black and white striped sash and around her hips was a sword; she was – quite obviously – a pirate. And judging by the fake hook on her left hand, she was him.
There was an odd course of emotions that ran through him when realized this; first, there was anger (I do not dress like that!). Then, there was despondence (Yeah, I do kind of dress like that.) And finally, there was an out-of-place sense of pride – like he was flattered that she had chosen him to mock. Get a hold of yourself, chap. He was so lost in shaking himself out of his own thoughts that it was far too easy for Emma to walk right up to him without a moment for him to prepare.
"Ah," she said simply, "Woody."
"What?" he replied, sounding a bit more hostile than he had intended but hey – considering that he was new to this realm, 'Woody' might have been a synonym for 'bilge rat' for all he knew.
The small boy spoke up, detecting the glimmer of confusion in the situation immediately. "Woody is a toy sheriff from a movie." More confusion. "It's like a book but without the reading."
"Well… I am not this 'Woody' you speak of. However, I am…" he said with a deep bow and a tip of what he had discovered was a called a 'cowboy hat', "A sheriff. Just like your town's precious Emma Swan."
The two glared at each other for a long while until, for some reason, Henry started to cough in a way that sounded more like a suppressed laugh. "Oh!" he coughed. "I'll… just… let you two alone, then…" The boy wandered away, coughing all the while.
"What was that about?" Emma turned to the real pirate in the room with a confused countenance.
"I have no idea," he shrugged before a harmless idea popped into his head: "Would you like to dance, Miss Swan?"