Prompt fill: Hook and Emma showing each other how things work in their respective worlds." Since there's an abundance of fic about Hook adjusting to the modern world, I chose to write something from Emma's perspective.

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It was cold. And considering Emma's high tolerance for chilly weather after having lived on the eastern seaboard for the past couple of years, the fact that the current temperature had her teeth chattering was saying something. Her hands were curled up under the sleeves of her wool sweater, just one of the many layers she had on. Her knees were tucked against her chest, body huddled against a log that sat by an unlit cluster of branches and twigs.

By contrast, Hook seemed perfectly fine; infuriatingly so. Even with most of his chest exposed (not that she noticed) he appeared unaffected by the bitter climate. His signature coat must've been made of magic, she reasoned, for no amount of leather could possibly guard against the frigid air.

Emma observed him as he flicked a small rock against his hook, kneeling down by the stacked dry materials they had gathered. His features were almost unreadable, neutral. But the longer she stared, the more the nuances in his face became clear: his pursed lips, the tightness in his jaw, the slight ridge in his brow. After a few attempts, the kindling ignited and Hook let out a celebratory chuckle.

She could admit it: she was impressed.

It had been a last minute trip, venturing into the woods that bordered Storybrooke to investigate a potential threat to the town. Mention of the Wicked Witch of the West (Emma still struggled to believe she was real) had sent most of the townspeople into a panic, forcing David to stay behind while she and her would-be deputy went on a little adventure.

In their haste to depart, Emma underestimated the extent of their journey and was ill-prepared for their current predicament: car out of gas, no cabin or resting spot in sight, no cellphone reception to call for help. "We'll have to wait til morning," he had said, not nearly as anxious about the prospect of camping out in the wilderness as she was. "For now, we'll make due."

Easier said than done.

Except, for someone who was born and raised in a realm that hadn't discovered indoor plumbing, this probably wasn't the most difficult situation to manage. It's a good thing he's here, she thought, watching as he came to take a seat beside her. I couldn't have done this without him.

Hook caught her secret smile while he scraped some dirt off his hand. "Just one of my many skills, Swan."

"Yeah, I… noticed." Her attempts to flirt were thwarted by her unsteady breath. Why the hell was it so cold?

Emma edged towards the fire, extending her hands out with open palms. She ignored the look he gave her—his sudden awareness of just how much the cold was affecting her, and his concern about her discomfort—and flexed her fingers to stimulate blood flow.

Then, she suddenly felt a heavy weight on her shoulders, her body buckling somewhat under the pressure. The curved points of his coat's collar tickled her cheeks, the long tail wrapping around to cover her thighs. Emma jolted her head up, air caught in her throat. To her left, some inches behind her, sat Hook, eyes trained on her own shocked expression.

"No, you don't have to," she puffed, head shaking as a smile formed on her mouth.

"I insist," he replied, arms folded in front of him.

"No, come on, this is ridiculous. You're gonna freeze to death, here"—Emma began removing the leather coat from herself but was stopped by Hook's hand pushing against her back.

"Emma, keep it," he urged, his voice a mixture of annoyance and affection. "At least until you've warmed up."

After a beat, she nodded, accepting the gesture with a minor shrug. "Thank you." Emma turned back to face the crackling flames while Hook scooted closer to her. "Did it ever get like it in the Enchanted Forest?"

"Sometimes," he murmured close to her ear as they leaned against one another. "But you get used to it." There was more to it than that, Emma knew. His nonchalance about the topic didn't fool her, but that was a story for another time.

She angled her neck towards him, the side of her head gingerly resting on his shoulder. His body was getting cooler the longer he spent with just his shirt and vest to cover him. Still, Emma felt herself heating up just by having him near. They stayed like that for awhile, absorbed in a calming silence. She let out a long exhale, her breath clouding as it escaped. He shifted beside her, his right arm draping around her.

"You know, there are more rigorous ways to keep warm." He really couldn't help himself. Emma met his gaze and was unsurprised to see a twinkle in his eyes and a grin gracing his lips.

"Don't push your luck, pal." She motioned to take off his coat, grasping at the fabric with care. "I'm feeling better. You can have this back."

She saw him fight his instinct to refuse, but the temperature was such that Hook didn't hesitate to accept it. "It's still a long while 'til morning," he continued. "What ever shall we do to pass the time?"

Emma looked to him once more, then glanced around their environment (or at least the parts illuminated by the bonfire). It didn't take much effort to picture herself back in the Enchanted Forest, when she had felt so completely out of her element and so very much dependent on the knowledge of her mother. Beyond the traditions and formalities of royal living, Emma didn't know how things worked over there. And while she doubted she would ever return, she felt compelled to prove herself capable of thriving in the land of fairytales.

Now was a good a time to start as any.

"You," she smirked while lifting herself off the ground, "can teach me how to start a fire."

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