It's one of those (weirdly) casual days in Storybrooke, which is still a difficult concept to grasp. In fact, she's getting one of those days to spend some alone time with Killian. Of course, this implies mocking, teasing, outrageous, yet blunt flirting, and dealing with 99% of his innuendos.

Secretly, she likes it.

But they are enjoying their time by the docks, watching the tides and ripples. The cold air nips at her skin, as she hugs herself, tugging her signature leather jacket more and more before it's literally impossible to do so any further. Of course, perceptive as he is, decides to wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her into his warmth. It's satisfying of course, really satisfying. How does he keep warm like this? she wonders, her head tilting to the side to rest on his shoulder.

Gold has yet to return, which is still something she's highly anticipating. There's no way being banished from Storybrooke because of the dagger and a horribly, let-down Belle will keep him away from returning ever again. It's merely an impossible situation here. He can find loopholes, Emma is sure Gold is going to have some extravagant entrance at some point, or at least make it known that he's returned to ruin everyone's lives once again. And being the Saviour she is, she will need to defeat him, the good old magic vs. magic sort of thing.

But this moment isn't meant for over thinking, no matter what. Right now, it's enjoying the view with Killian by her side, because for once, after all this damn chaos, she just wants to be with the man who's… her boyfriend. I can't stand saying that word, she muses, letting her eyes slide closed.

Of course he notices something off about her behaviour. "Swan, you seem to be floating in space today. Is there anything wrong?" he asks. And damn him for that voice which holds concern, and his strong, blue eyes which always make her fall weak on her knees, even when she acts the most subtle in being a strong, independent woman.

Shaking her head, she answers, "Nothing important. It's just that… there's something bound to happen soon. I can feel it in my bones, Killian. It sounds more like a huff of breath instead of an explanation. "I'm like a walking calamity, I attract all evil because of who I am," she mutters, reliving every single moment of something horrible happening.

Losing Henry.

Giving trust away so easily.

Losing Graham.

Not noticing Killian's missing heart earlier.

Nearly becoming a bound sister to Ingrid who was apparently her foster mother.

Like seriously, her role as the Saviour is the most demanding job ever. And she's the Sheriff too. Saviour-Sheriff.

"Well, love, don't worry about that. Remember I told you to live your life during the crisis otherwise you might miss it," he begins. Bringing his hook up he points it forward. "You attracted a ruthless one-handed pirate, who desperately fell head over heels for a strong-willed woman with cunning wits," Killian continues, his fingers rubbing her waist gently. "I'd say that's an accomplishment. Worry about it when it does occur."

"And so is breaking curses and saving lives," she whispers, the wind blowing her words away in a swift manner. "But you're right. I do need to live my life, even if it's not going to be much of a normal one anymore. This is my life."

He smiles like the loving dork he is, pressing a kiss to the side of her head before she trains her eyes back forward, staring out at the deep blue sea which reflects many images. A lot of memories of Neverland return, the cries of Lost Boys, the waters while on the Jolly Roger. That's right. A ship he no longer owns because he had given it up to come save her, to come save the entire town from another doomsday.

For a moment, she thinks something is different. Killian removes his arm from her, and when she tears her gaze away from the sea to him, he's not wearing a shirt. As confused as possible, Killian cocks his head to the side, his eyes narrowing at her, his forehead creasing.

"What the hell?" he questions. "Swan, this isn't very funny. It's freezing like this!" he exclaims, wrapping his arms around himself.

Emma's mouth is open, her eyes scrunched up as she examines the exact view in front of her. Shirtless Killian Jones is something she can get used to. But, being as it is, he's glaring at her like a death stare of the sorts, and she's just as confused as he is. "I didn't do anything," she claims honestly, shaking her head, getting out of her sudden reverie. His head ducks backward, probably in disbelief. "Hey, I'm serious! I did not use my magic or whatever to make you shirtless."

"Yes, because that would explain the sudden disappearance of my clothes," he says bitterly. "If you didn't do it, then who d-"

"Something's wrong!"

Everyone knows this voice.

"Leroy," she mutters.

He says, "Bloody dwarf."

And of course, as everyone starts to question what's going on, Emma's stuck with having shirtless men surround her. Let's just say shirtless Leroy is not a view that's going to be rid from her head for the next couple of weeks. Or her entire life. Groaning at the thought, everyone gathers at Granny's.

Way too many shirtless dudes around now. Even her father, Prince Charming, is shirtless and standing there with Mary Margaret with very confused faces of what's going on.

"Why is every man out of shirts, but not the women?"

"How would I know?" Emma complains, rolling her eyes. "Look, we're gonna have to investigate this… weird occurrence. Meanwhile, you either remain shirtless, or go find another shirt to wear for the meantime."

"Is it a curse?" someone shouts.

"Why am I not surprised?" Killian mutters from behind her.

Instinctively, she turns around and slaps his bare chest. Oddly, she sort of likes physically abusing him like that.

He feigns pain, faking a whimper. "What was that for?" he questions.

"Not the time to be retorting remarks of being unamused, pirate," she responds. "Funny for you because you don't exactly have another attire, do you? You still pay in doubloons," Emma teases, nudging his shoulder. "Unless my dad is willing to hand over some clothes to you- which I doubt- you'll be stuck without a shirt, and I find it really hilarious."

"This isn't much of a laughing matter, love. But, if you like the fact of me being bare," he starts, flicking her hair away with his hook, "all you had to do was ask," he whispers.

David coughs, bringing them back to their attention. Killian flashes a devilish smirk before she rolls her eyes and turns around, facing the now-smaller crowd. Once she explains the plan, which is 'go home and just try to ignore it,' she lets out a huff of disappointment. Although this curse, or whatever in the world it is, is going on, she hates it already in a way. For one, they don't know what it even passes as, and for two, they don't know who's casted it.

After a couple of straight hours of investigating, it starts to become a pain in the ass. In fact, Killian starts to really get bothered, and that leads to him questioning her about everything, or literally making several jokes. Honestly, she's enjoying this- not only the view, of course- hilarity of him being so front and forward. But then, she needs to survive his neverending string of innuendos and other flirtatious comments which puts her on edge. There is a shirtless pirate sitting in a chair in front of her. Muscles toned, that chest hair that is pretty much on display 24/7 and scars all over, she sighs and shakes her head.

In response, he obviously smirks with a raised eyebrow, jerking his head to the side, provoking her with everything he can. It's slowly working, but she refuses to let it affect her now. Not when she's trying to do some research on possible curses or spells, or whatever the hell magic caused this entire weird situation to erupt out of nowhere. Who would want to cast something this dumb? Well, someone wanted to, unless it was a total accident, which sounds like something to be quite skeptical about.

There's no word of Gold returning, or anything about someone entering from outside of town. It's not until a couple of minutes later, she starts giving up, shaking her head. It's out of the usual.

/-/-/-/-/-/

He's slowly dying of laughter and anticipation of the outcome of this possible magical curse. It's hardly considered a curse. Losing his shirt, along with the other men of the town, is hardly considered a consequence of any magical spell.

Given he's almost 400 years of age, he's gained quite a bit of experience with magic. Even if he's the man the be the most unimpressed by it at this point. The only time he really encourages magic is between Emma, and sometimes Regina. He's pretty much done with it. He's lost his hand, gotten is back, flew through portals, manned the Jolly Roger through the sky from Neverland, and so much more. He really isn't surprised about anything new and magical showing up.

While he sits there, teasing Emma with every possible chance, he starts seeing the light flush of her cheeks creep up. It's either she's the one getting hot, or, she's beginning to get flustered with all of his jokes. He likes to think it's the latter option. And so, more of his teasing ensues, which results in a hit to the head and her throwing a pencil at him, which he swiftly dodges of course.

"Are you going to continue to bother me like this?"

He laughs, leaning forward on the chair. "I'd like to believe you're the one who needs to focus more," he mocks, leaning back in the chair again.

"Utterly ridiculous," she mutters in anger, flipping the pages in the book faster. "Who the hell would cast a curse like this?"

"Love, do you think it's actually a curse? As you know, curses should have smoke envelop the entire town," he finally says, turning serious for the time being. "And this one did not. So, I think it's time you take a different approach to this."

She shuts the book, tossing it into a cardboard box. "Then what do you think it is? A prank?"

"Aye. Sounds the most plausible of all."

"I'm starting to think I can't break…" she trails off, shaking her head. "Whatever this is."

He shrugs casually. "Perhaps it doesn't need breaking, and it's just that we need a replacement for our clothes. Our fabrications easy can be easily fixed at once, as it seems it was a one-time thing," he explains his own reasoning, digging deep down into the entire problem. "Besides, if I hadn't known better, I'd say you're rather distracted by my dastardly good looks, and that you want me to put on a shirt before you fall toward me in defeat."

"Are you kidding me right now, Killian?"

Winking, he gets off the chair to go over to her. "Now now, darling. Wouldn't it be easier if you'd just use your magic to give me my own attire?"

She sighs. "I'm not doing that."

"And why not?"

"Because."

"Because what?"

In an effort of pushing her further, he doesn't need to do anything else. She gets up herself, shoving him against the wall. "Because I said so."

"Hardly an excuse," he retaliates, arching his eyebrow at her. "Tell me, Emma, why are you so afraid of just giving me a shirt, at least for the time being?"

"I'm not afraid," she mutters, crossing her arms. "You told me to live for the moments, to live my life otherwise I'll miss it. Well, I am living my life." She points her finger at him, poking his chest. "This is hilarious. I'm having fun, and you, are the devilishly handsome pirate who's poking a hole in my plan- no pun intended."

"Had I known earlier, I'd keep my shirt off around you," he says, his lips curling into a smile.

"That'd be different. Whatever caused this little ruckus, definitely appears to have only been an accident." With a whip of her hair, she grabs her phone- bloody talking device- off her desk. "And does it matter? It's like you barely wore a shirt anyways," she jokes, "coming from the fact your chest hair is always showing all the time."

"Oi, that is a matter of my own style!" he responds, his eyebrows furrowing. After a couple of seconds of just sending death starts are each other, he breaks the silence. "I'd like to say it's been rather cold without a top."

"I wonder what will warm you up." Her tone of voice does not suggest something of the usual. It's something much more intriguing and pleasurable.

"Oh, love, you do wonders. I'll have you know the fact of me losing a shirt isn't much of a curse or bother anymore. But you're the bloody curse that's like a siren, being a tease you are," he says, using his hook to pull her in. "If this is a curse, I'd never want to to be broken," he murmurs into her ear.

"Yeah, this curse is just really hard to break."