A/N: I know this sort of writing format is overused, but I've never done one and I got to re-watch all the scenes again (multiple times - you know, for authenticity) so I had a lot of fun.

As always, I don't own anything (except my new pens). Please enjoy and review.


i. Kiss

Neverland was a horrible place. It brought out her worst memories and fears, reducing her to nothing more than that little lost girl, shuffled from place to place with no home or family to call her own. So when she thanked him for saving her father's life – genuinely grateful even though the whole relationship terrified and confused her – and he replied with blatant flirting, she couldn't help but smile.

In this terrible, terrible place, Killian Jones made her feel something other than sadness. He made her feel good. She wanted to keep the moment going, the feeling, so she responded in kind.

Please, you couldn't handle it.

He challenged her after that, hooded blue eyes promising an alternative to the sadness, and if there was one thing Emma was proud of, it was that she never backed down from a challenge.

She grabbed onto the lapels of his heavy coat – a ridiculous choice of clothing when she was in a tank top but she wasn't complaining – and the instant his lips were on hers, all other thoughts went out of her head. Her worries about Henry, confusion about her family, fear that she wouldn't be able to lead – that she fail, were all insignificant compared to his lips pressed to hers. Her left hand moved to his hair when he responded and she felt his hand tangle in her own. They moved together, breathed together and Emma felt like she could feel the entire world at once, feel the heat from his body, the sound of his lips, the taste of rum lingering in his mouth and could smell the faint traces of the ocean, clinging to his leather.

She was holding on for dear life as his hand moved to her waist, wanting nothing more than to feel. They were both panting as they broke the kiss, foreheads resting together. His lips were so close to hers as they recovered and she wanted nothing more than to continue, to recapture that feeling. Until he spoke and all her worries returned.

That was...

Her walls quickly reformed at his words and she blocked the part of herself that was pleased by how wrecked he sounded.

A small voice, one loving Henry brought out, told her to take the leap as she hovered near his lips, one she ignored as she finally let go of his lapels.

A onetime thing.

She ignored the pain in his eyes as she walked away, giving instructions to hide their kiss from the others. The instructions helped her feel composed and in charge as she flexed her shoulders, anything to make the feeling of him disappear.

As you wish.

She felt a crack in her wall as she smiled, that good feeling resurfacing. But by the time she reached her parents, she had simply written it off as a kiss, an enjoyable one, but one that was insignificant.


i. Want

Emma could see the curse in the distance, the green storm growing closer and closer. With every goodbye, she could feel herself reverting, becoming that lost girl who never got to have a family. It was all becoming too painful and she wanted to run, but of course, he stopped her.

He made an idiotic joke about her bug and against all odds, she felt her lips lift in a smile.

There's not a day will go by that I won't think of you.

It was a ridiculous promise – the idea of him thinking of her each day until he died – but it made Emma think of that good feeling, one surging inside of her. Even in her darkest moments, he managed to shine a light.

Good.

His smile was beautiful at her reply and her eyes flickered to his lips, wanting nothing more than to leave a trace of herself on him and to take the feel of him with her.

Instead, he stepped back and she began to walk away. She didn't look back as she drove over the town line and soon the feeling was lost, along with every memory of him she had.


ii. Want

Hook was right. They always did seem to be facing some kind of danger while wondering the woods and he was right about being able to read her, to understand, to support.

If it can be broken, it means it still works.

Her heart seemed to be working in overdrive in that moment, the sound of the racing movement blocking out everything else. Her body swayed to his, somehow always attuned and she looked at him searchingly. She saw sincerity and his eyes, and so much more, more than she could deal with. She resisted the urge to show him how well her heart still worked and instead took a deep breath and forced herself to turn away.

Walking away seemed to be one of the hardest actions she'd ever taken and the easiest and she ignored the relief she felt when she heard him following.


iii. Want

Darts seemed an appropriate way to deal with her anger since the man who taught her died unavenged. The true reasons for his passing tucked away so not to cause any troubles.

Hook – Killian – offered her platitudes, ones she could have accepted were it not for Henry. He deserved better than words. She had no time for his experiences and he was a more convenient target than the dartboard.

About what? Leather conditioner and eyeliner?

Again, he stuck with her even when she was unfair, offering a gift greater than any other, peace for her son. He offered it selflessly and her heart beat faster in response.

I assure you, nothing will happen to the boy while he's in my charge.

Her eyes flicked to his lips and her eyes fluttered as she tried to control herself. She was at the wake of the father of her son and she wanted more than to kiss Killian, not only because she felt so grateful and pleased that he seemed to care for her son's wellbeing, but because that good feeling was stirring again and it was becoming harder to ignore.

For the time being, she still could and she pulled herself away, informing Henry that he was going to be spending the day with one of his father's old friends. Emma watched them walk away together and blamed the feelings it stirred on some sort by-product of grief.


ii. Kiss

Seducing the Captain Hook of the past seemed like an easy job to do. She already knew he was attracted to her and she had plenty of practice getting her marks to eat out of her hand before she cuffed them and sent them on their way. But she couldn't throw out all of the rum and she was feeling pleasantly tipsy and revealed in the feeling, in the power, his flirtations and blatant desire gave her.

The idea that it was simply a job was in the forefront of her mind, but it didn't stop her from enjoying it. She agreed to go back to his ship, almost disappointed that she had to think of a way to escape.

The idea of kissing Hook as a distraction to let Killian escape didn't perturb her at all, until she kissed him. She kissed him easily, expecting the same feeling from Neverland and while yes, he was a good kisser even while drunk, there was something missing. As they danced around his cabin, she resisted the urge to pull away because it felt wrong. Instead, she kept up the ruse, feigning interest until Killian punched himself in the face.

She looked back to Hook, unconscious on the floor of his cabin, as she left the ship, unsettled in the different emotions the same man could make her feel.


iv. Want

The music swelled about her as she was lead forward. She had been momentarily stunned by the beauty and grace of the dancers before the old fear settled in, that she didn't belong here and she never hand. But he pulled her forward and surprised her again.

His hand settled onto her waist, seeming to sear her skin even through his gloves and her dress. She was free to observe him as he arranged their hands, taking in the scruff along his jaw line and his tempting lips before shooting but to his eyes as he looked at her. They were blue and entrancing and filled with something she thought was joy.

Pick a partner who knows what he's doing.

She didn't fight the smile that formed on her face as they moved around the ballroom. She forgot about the mission and her possible lack of existence as she danced in Killian's arms, wanting to simply keep the smile on his face and the sparkle in his eyes.

I believe what I'm trying to say, your highness, is that you appear to be a natural.

He moved back closer to her and the lack of space should have been terrifying, smothering, but instead Emma felt safe and strong. She felt like she could survive in this world of twirls and waltzes and she could have lingered in that moment forever, could have moved closer to seal the distance between them but she noticed she father out of the corner of her eye and the moment passed.

As they danced together, keeping an eye on David – who was looking exceedingly uncomfortable – Emma still felt happy in his arms, but she could wait to analyse the feeling until after she made sure she would be born. Until then, she could simply enjoy the moment.


v. Want

They were stuck in the past because of a stupid technicality on a magic wand when she finally could express herself. He challenged her again with everything she had been running from, something she would still be running from if she didn't have the image of her mother burning alive seared into her memory.

His look of sincerity and empathy strengthened her as she continued, finally accepting she had a home when it may be out of reach forever.

After her final confession, he suddenly smiled. He had a beautiful smile and this one seemed to be full of pride. She felt her own lips twitch even as tears made their way down her face and she asked him what he was smiling at.

Look down.

She glanced to the now shining wand and held it up in astonishment. He encouraged her to try, in his own swaggering way, and the portal opened. Pride and joy and most importantly, hope filled her as she looked at their ticket home.

He picked up her cellmate with a grunt and Emma was glad for the barrier between them, preventing Emma from flinging herself into his arms or whatever else her current feeling of exuberance might lead her to do.

She moistened her lips and rushed forward, finally ready to run home.


iii. Kiss

She had no idea what she intended when she exited the diner. All she really understood was that she was back home, with her family and something still seemed to be missing.

He was sitting by himself, still on the fringes of Storybrooke life when Emma began talking with him. Trying to understand what was missing, and fearing she already knew the answer.

She had been curious about how he made it to New York and she listened eagerly to his tale, expecting some grand adventure of the highest piratical calibre. What she did not expect was a flippant explanation of how he traded his home to ensure she found her own.

You traded your ship for me?

In his single word response, she heard the complete and utter devotion he had for her and she allowed herself to be open to something she'd been denying since their adventure on the beanstalk. She knew then that he was someone she could care for, but after Neal, she had done whatever she could to resist the possibility, to protect herself from further heartbreak. With a single 'aye' he turned her world upside down and she finally allowed herself to feel, to believe in the possibility of a happy ending.

She moved forward slowly and he moved to meet her, their initial kisses languid and leisurely. Her own hand was wrapped around the nape of his neck and his hand was tangled in her hair as they changed the angle, deepening their kiss. Emma no longer felt the cold air, only Killian's thumb on her cheek and the feel of his leather under her fingers.

She pulled back as he tugged at her lips, staring intently at his wrecked and adoring face before a smile broke over her face. Killian mirrored her with a small smile, stroking the indent in her chin as he moved in for another kiss. Emma's last coherent thought was that this was no onetime thing, and if she was being honest, it probably never was.


A/N: I'm amazed I kept it to five, how could you not want to kiss him?

Have a good morning/day/night,

Adrina Stark.