Standard Disclaimer Time! I do not own Once Upon A Time or it's characters. Nor do I make any money off of this story. It is done purely for entertainment purposes.

-Michelle

It begins with a look, two pairs of eye meeting from across the bar. Neither one of them means to do it, but it happens all the same. Grieving blue meets a gaze equally full of sorrow, sparking reaction in the two.

The woman is the first to look away, to glance down at the mug she's nursing. Hook stares at her a moment longer, then turns away with the startled realization that he KNOWS her. He might not know her name, or where she is from, but he knows where she spends her nights. Or at least part of them, Hook acknowledging that she's always at the tavern long before he arrives, and is probably still there long after he leaves. And always, she just sits at the bar, nursing the same drink, with the same despondent look in her eyes.

It's a look he knows well, Hook having seen it in his own mirror. It's been reflected there since the day that Mila had died, the woman savagely murdered by her own coward of a husband. On that day, a part of Hook had died as well, his heart all but torn from his chest the way Mila's had been.

His sole remaining hand tightens on his mug, Hook staring off at nothing with the memories. He doesn't realize that his grief shows all the more, or the fact that the woman is looking at him once again. Staring at him with an open mouthed recognition, sorrow eyed sympathy shown his way. She can't possibly know what he's been through, but she acknowledges it as a twin to her own grief.

The woman quickly looks away, when she realizes he has noticed. Hook can't help but stare at her, wondering what-WHO had put that similar look of pain in her eyes. His own sympathetic gaze is cast on her, knowing her for what she is. A woman whose heart had been broken, just like Hook's had been.

It didn't matter the circumstances of her situation. He wasn't looking to make a friend. Wasn't looking for anything except a minute or two of relief, the kind of peace drinks alone could not grant him. And yet he kept turning back to her, studying her, noticing things beyond the sad blue of her eyes.

Like her hair, which was a rich chestnut brown color, full of long curls that were draped over the front of one shoulder. She wore a pretty blue dress, with white frills and gold lace. She had a shapely figure, and a beyond lovely face. She was beautiful, even in her torment, Hook wondering why anyone would ever want to hurt her and tear the smile off of her face.

But he wasn't going to ask, wasn't going to even think of the potential reasons for her hurt. Because if he did, he'd want to kill someone, want to hunt down the monster who made this beautiful woman hurt so badly. And that was something he couldn't devote time or energy to, Hook having a mission, a single minded purpose, existing all on the desire to avenge his broken heart, Mila.

He thinks of raven black hair then, of ivory pale skin, and piercing eyes that seemed to always see past his swagger, to the man Hook was-had once been inside. Mila, always able to make him feel things, exciting and new, revealing unexpected facets of Hook, still affected him now. But it was all dark in his head, his eyes a blue dulled with his sadness.

Coins clattered on the bar's counter, Hook leaving his drink unfinished. He wouldn't even look again at the woman in blue, stalking towards a side exit of the tavern. It was raining outside, a cold spray heavy enough to send the townspeople all fleeing indoors. Hook lingered undecided for one moment, then steps out into the rain. Someone follows behind him, and Hook wonders who can be that foolish. Especially when they follow him into an alley, Hook turning, grabbing at an arm, then hearing a woman gasp. Hook might have gasped too, staring shocked for one moment, at the woman from the bar. Then reason comes back to him, Hook gripping her arm tighter, forcing a pained sound out of her.

"Why did you follow me?!" He demands, his harsh sounding voice making her flinch for one moment, before she gathers up her courage.

"I wanted to ask...wanted to know if it will get better."

He doesn't have to ask her what she means by that, not when they match each other so perfectly in the pain that they feel. Nor can he give her an answer, any hope, Hook just shrugging back.

The woman seems to deflate before him, as though what little hope she had been clinging to, has now fled. And still she is beautiful, even as the rain soaks her down, and plasters her hair and her clothes against her.

She doesn't seem at all fearful that she is alone in an alley with a stranger. Has she gone stupid from the pain, or does she simply not care what could happen to her? But he knows the answer already, Hook too having long having abandoned caring if he lived or he died, simply existing instead.

"This is no way to live." Hook mutters out loud, and the woman nods. But what choice do they have, when caught in the grip of their own private heart breaks.

"I just want it to stop." The woman confesses. Is she starting to cry? But with the rain on her cheeks, he can't tell tears from drops. "I just want the pain to go away, to feel something other than this heart break."

It is then that Hook realizes he is still gripping her arm, and that she's not even attempting to get away. In fact she moves towards him when he pulls, her head tilting back just enough to keep on looking him in the face.

He's not the one she should be looking to for comfort. He can't even fix his own heart, let alone another's. Not with the pain still so fresh, so new. The wound Mila's death has dealt him, festers inside him, hollowing out his heart so he can feel nothing of love and hope and happiness.

The grief that is so relentless inside of him, goes blessedly quiet the instant his mouth covers hers. It's not true peace he has attained, the kiss unable to keep his sorrow away for forever. But it will do the job for at least a few minutes, Hook realizing he wants to lose himself in this woman. And from the eager way that she is attempting to kiss him back, he realizes that she feels the same way.

The kiss isn't anything like the ones he had shared with MIla. This woman more an inexperienced girl, than practiced seductress. She doesn't know at all what she is doing, but what she lacks in expertise, she makes up for in enthusiasm. Kissing with the same raw need, and desperation that Hook feels, wanting to know something other than the pain. Hook can only marvel at what a fool the person who had broken her heart must have been, the woman eager for kisses, for just even a little affection. It's downright criminal for one to have ignored her, to have refused lips as sweet as hers. It makes him want to teach her, to show her what it felt like to kiss and be kissed back.

She makes a soft, startled sound, but doesn't outright hesitate when his tongue twines with hers. He makes his own groan of sound, deeply gratified when she laves her tongue back, the woman learning the play of it, and seeming to enjoy it.

Hook enjoys it too, his hand letting go of her arm, to catch instead at her hair. Gripping it and her steady, then losing his own focus when her hands touch his sides. It's over his coat, and probably means nothing more than an attempt to keep her balance, and yet the mere idea of this woman touching him anywhere, makes him wild. Frenzied, Hook walking her back, pinning her against the alley's brick wall.

Kissing her harder, then pulling back, his forehead lightly resting against her. Water pours off the both of them, the two staring into each other's eyes. Both of them are panting, their heavy breaths echoing oddly amidst the rain. Hook stares and sees not confusion, but a lost, helpless look, the same one that he is wearing. They both want peace, they both might want someone to share the pain, but most of all they both want this moment, the woman issuing out a breathy plea.

"Don't stop."

He couldn't, not even if she had begged him to do otherwise. He needed her, needed the comfort she could provide. Hook didn't care that this was insane, that this didn't solve anything, for him or for her. He just wanted, and as a pirate, he was used to taking that which he desired.

It wouldn't be anything like she deserved. He couldn't, wouldn't show her the care a woman such as this needed, couldn't allow himself to make this moment into something more than it was. He was not some hero in a story, and she was not his happily ever after. Hook didn't even believe there was a chance for him, not daring to wish for more, to want for anything more than revenge and a quick death after.

This time when he kissed her, it was almost angry but Hook didn't know who that feeling was for. Himself or for her, or for the things that could not be, the future they could not give each other.

His tongue harsh, his lips bruising, Hook kissed her as though he would devour the woman whole. She tried to match his pace, to match the near violent intensity he displayed, mewling sounds escaping out her throat. Her hands clutched at his coat, the woman feeling so small trembling against him, but ever so soft, so pliant.

Knowing she had to be freezing from the rain, he STILL sliced through the laces of her dress' back with the hook that had taken the place of his lost hand. The dress didn't immediately fall down to her waist, too rain soaked to do anything but cling to curves he was sure was perfect. Hook nearly groaned with impatience, wanting her bared to the waist, not wanting to take the time to tug and pull down her tight bodice.

It proved more than worth the effort, Hook rewarded with a sight that was glorious. Round, full breasts, with small but rosy looking nipples, the rain water leaving slick trails all along her freezing skin. He hadn't even needed to touch her, the chill making those nipples stand out. Greedy, he tasted one, his open mouth enveloping it fully. The woman seemed to jerk back in surprise, a hitch to her breath a moment before she arched her back and pressed her breast more firmly against his lips. And then she was moaning, Hook's mouth teasing, making the woman shiver and shake against him.

Her hands went to his hair, holding, encouraging him. His hand went under her dress, kneading the inside of her thigh for just a moment. And then he was pressing his knee against her, forcing her legs apart, making her straddle him. She mewled, and tugged on his hair, forcing him up from her breasts so that they could kiss once more.

Tongues seeming to duel against one another, Hook's hand dropped to the front of his pants, fingers more clumsy than they should ever be. Somehow without the aid of his hook, he got the leather open, his cock springing free and erect, and touching against her. She shifted to see, and that was when he tore off the voluminous amount of fabric that served as her under garments, Hook hauling the woman onto him.

She cried out, her nails digging into him in retaliation for the hurt he had just done her. There was the pained glimmer of tears in her eyes, the woman looking almost betrayed. Hook wondered if that was the same look she had given the man who had broken her heart, then quickly shrugged free of all thought, not wanting to give in to anything like guilt for having hurt her.

Keeping her pinned against the wall, Hook began to move. Not caring about her, about anything but the moment, and the fact that it was silent in his head. Revenge, Rumplestiltskin, even Mila was forgotten, Hook in the moment, his lean but powerful hips working. Forcing his way into the deepest part of her, feeling every inch of her passage work to expand and give way, and still remaining gloriously tight.

He cried out, not recognizing his own voice. Not aware of anything except the all consuming lust that pitched through him, Hook feeling frenzied and feverish. Needing to come, and not wanting the moment to end, his hips bucking wildly, with little art or expertise, Hook bit down on the crook of the woman's shoulder. She cried out too, but he couldn't make out the words, his tongue laving over the bite mark he had left her. His good hand lay flat against the wall besides her, Hook ruthlessly driving himself into her, relying on the bricks to hold against their combined weight.

Her nails were drawing blood, the woman's breasts bouncing with each thrust. He could feel wetness that didn't have anything to do with the rain or her maiden's blood, the woman's body at last accepting his, though it's attempt at preparations had been woefully late. Hook knew he should have helped her, should have eased her into her first sexual experience better. For that matter he shouldn't have taken her in some side alley, should have given her the bed and comforts a virgin would have required. A dozen more should ofs came to mind, and were quickly dismissed, Hook knowing it too late to change anything, even the fact that he was about to come, and she was not.

His cock actually jerked inside her, his climax erupting harder than he could ever previously remember. He actually thought he saw stars, so dazed was he by the orgasm, standing there, going flaccid inside her. Both of them were breathing heavy, Hook resting his head on her shoulder. And as his breath began to even out, the memories began to come back. First trickling in, then becoming a full out flood, Hook remembering it all, Mila, Rumplestiltskin, the horrific murder of his loved one, the need for revenge. And besides it, was the memory of the woman he had just had sex with, Hook not daring to look at her face, not wanting her betrayed expression to add to his future torments.

Not looking at her, he pulled out, and then set her down none too gently on her feet. He'd go to take a step away from her, and she'd sway, Hook spinning to catch her in his arms. It was an uncharacteristic moment, Hook feeling bad for what he had done, how he had treated her. He'd feel worse when she recovered, her hand slapping hard across his face.

"Beast!" The woman proclaimed, hurriedly pulling up her dress a moment before she took shaky flight off into the night. Hook didn't try to stop her, fought even the desire to turn and watch her run away. His cheek hurt, the woman having struck him hard enough to leave a mark of her own. He deserved worst, his shaking hand touching first his cheek, and then his lips where the taste of her still lingered.

The encounter had been a mistake, he was sure of it. One he wouldn't be repeating. With her, with any woman, Hook deciding this was the last time he'd be unfaithful to Mila's memory. It didn't matter that it seemed an unreasonable promise, Hook hating himself in the moment. Swearing off sex, off drinking, and off beautiful strangers who wore pretty dresses. Especially ones whose eyes were as hurt as his.

So...*twiddles thumbs* Okay...this...I feel like I failed a little. Like I couldn't get this to match up to the idea in my head. Like the sex and stuff wasn't as despairing as I had wanted it to be. I was also going to treat this as a one shot, but write a separately titled sequel...but I think instead of separating the two, I'll just keep the updates together, and make it one multi chapter story.

Just worry, it might end up causing me not to write this other story I was thinking about. Too many ideas...ay yi yi...

For those wondering about Restraint, I have not abandoned that fic! I was just resting a little, only writing a chapter a day if I was lucky for ANY of my Once fics. But Restraint will continue. If not tonight, then hopefully in the next few days. I still want to try to write next chapter of the untitled triangle fic first (Which would be chapter eight)...but we'll see how I'm inspired after I finish my exercise walk. ^^;;

Still gotta figure out how to handle the start of the next chapter. Let's just say, it will be a time skip. X_X

To Be Continued...

Michelle