Title: Any Means Necessary
Author: Liza Cameron

Chapter: 1

Spoilers: 3.11 plus a few spoiler photos for 3.12 that can be found all over the web.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything; this is for fun and no money.

Feedback: liza_cameron

Summary: After Hook finds Emma in New York, he helps to restore her memories. They then embark on a road trip that gives them time to discover where they stand post-curse.

"Here you go." Emma tossed the bags of newly purchased items onto the bed as she let them into the spacious room.

"All this?" Hook asked as he gingerly picked up a bag and emptied the contents. He grimaced as he sorted through the items. With a look of disdain he picked up a black, long-sleeved v-neck and held it against his chest. "You don't honestly expect me to wear this…" he looked her in the eye as he waved the shirt, "…this pedestrian costume."

Emma rolled her eyes and then with a sardonic note in her voice she charged, "You're absolute the last person who should be talking about wearing a costume."

He poked his hook through the remaining garments on the bed, when he nudged a pair of black pants he muttered, "But this… terribly mundane, don't you think?" Next his hook found black socks. "And simply unnecessary, I have stockings." The next item perplexed him and he picked it up in order to examine it; a plastic package with several small black garments encased within. "What's this?" Emma bit her lip to keep from smiling as he ripped the plastic with one slash.

"Careful." Emma called as she stepped forward to take it from him. "The fabric is delicate." She removed the items from the plastic and held them out to him before explaining, "Boxer briefs."

Hook furrowed his brow. "What are boxer briefs?"

"Uh…" Emma stalled, unsure how to continue. "I'm told they're the most comfortable undergarments for men."

With a quirked eyebrow he turned the black fabric over in his hands. She bought him undergarments? So many things had happened over the last few days, both good and bad, true love's kiss had failed but then she'd embarked on a mission with him. He'd been trying to figure out exactly where he stood with her, but to no avail. However, no matter the realm, surely procuring undergarments for one must signal a certain amount of intimacy, right? "You bought me undergarments?"

"Of course." Emma played it off as if it was the most natural thing in the world, even thought she was pretty sure it wasn't. The evidence being the pink tinge she could feel staining her cheeks. Did people go around buying boxer briefs for pirates that crossed realms for… people? Or was she alone in that category? "I was getting clothes for you, from my world, undergarments are a necessity." It wasn't a lie, but her heart beat a bit faster, as if it was.

He examined them closer before looking back to her with a devilish grin. "Perhaps I'm okay with your boxer briefs- they may be a convenience I can embrace." He winked at her before continuing. "The rest is so prosaic, are you trying to dress me like your father or Neal? Or at least the appalling way they dress when in Storybrooke?"

"Yes!" Emma cried her voice tinged with both amusement and exasperation. "Now you're getting it. The idea is to be… prosaic. To blend in. Right now," She gestured vehemently at him in his pirate garb. "You do not blend in. You definitely stand out."

"Why thank you, Swan." He waged a suggestive eyebrow at her as he said it.

"Not a compliment!" She sighed with frustration and then relented as her rebuff drew an almost hurt expression from him. "At least not in our current situation, I tried to find things that would not draw attention, but that you would feel comfortable in." She came to the side of the bed and picked up the items. "See, black v-necks, because, well, obviously you don't seem to allow anything to invade your neck region." As she said it she spread her hand wide and gestured with a circular motion to his perpetually exposed chest. "Long-sleeves to cover your brace, black pants, black jeans, black track pants and t-shirt to sleep in, a black leather bomber jacket, black, black, black! Because, I know, you always wear black."

He paused for a second, picking up the leather jacket which he hadn't examined before. This might not be so bad. "Yes, I see that you did try to mimic my normal raiment." He met her eye before finishing sincerely, "Thank you. I'm sorry if I seem ungrateful, I think waiting in your vehicle while you were gone got me a bit…" he cleared his throat before continuing, "…agitated. You were in there a long time."

Emma crinkled her brow at him in amusement. She'd left him in the car for 45 minutes while she shopped. The amount she'd been able to find and purchase in that time was almost miraculous. The thought that the man who'd spent centuries in Neverland waiting for his chance at revenge had run out of patience in the 45 minutes it took for her to shop for him was humorous.

Or was it? She studied him more closely and then realization dawned. "Did you think I wasn't coming back?"

He hooked the thumb of his right hand on his belt and studied the carpet. "After our conversation in New York about you taking your son and running, it crossed my mind."

The unsure note in his voice tugged at her heart. Over the last 24 hours she'd been so focused on herself, Henry and her memories that she really hadn't stopped to think about what this might be like for him. She'd thought a lot about what she needed from him and not at all about what he might need from her.

Emma might be confused as to what this was, what they were doing together, but she owed him some reassurance. "I came back, it never occurred to me not to. I wouldn't strand you in the middle of Vermont." Emma took a deep breath before continuing, finding it almost surreal that yesterday she was living a different life. "I may still be sorting things through up here." She tapped her forehead. "But now I'm in this, Hook; I've signed on for whatever adventure awaits us."

His eyes flicked up to meet hers. "Good."

A small smile tugged at her lips at the utterance of that one simple word. For a moment she was transported to the last time she'd seen him before the curse and something both beautiful and painful squeezed at her heart. But she shook it off; she wasn't ready to think about the feelings that word evoked. They had a job to do and she couldn't get lost in emotion every time a new memory came to the forefront. So instead she changed the subject.

"Hey, it's been a long day; we've been in the car for hours. Why don't you try on some of these new clothes and we'll go get something to eat." As she said it, she gestured to a door in the corner that she assumed was the bathroom, lest he start disrobing right in front of her. Not that she wasn't curious what was under all that pirate gear, she was, at least a little… or a lot. Her memories might still be coming to her in pieces and parts, and she might not be sure exactly how she felt about him, but the physical attraction, that part she didn't need to remember, it was just there, evident in the spark she felt pass between them every time he was near.

"Okay. I'll head to the washroom to preserve your modesty." He got almost to the door before his eye caught something on the bed and he stopped. "But…"

"What?" Emma pasted on a smile and turned to him. Who knew getting him out of his pirate gear would be so difficult?

"It's not all black, is it?" He reached down to pull out an item from the bottom of the pile, a button-down shirt in a deep blue.

Against her will, she blushed. It was hard not to, when she remembered the argument with herself in the department store. She tried to look noncommittal. "You're right, it's not all black. There's one blue shirt."

He nodded in understanding. "Okay." He took a step towards the bathroom before once again stopping abruptly. He studied her quizzically before asking, "Why one blue shirt?"

Emma's eyes widened a bit. "Um, no reason. Why not one blue shirt?"

"Well, you said you were buying all black. So why blue?" He thought for a second and his eyes lit up. "My love of the sea, perhaps?"

"Yeah." She nodded grabbing onto the explanation he provided. "Let's go with that."

"Thank you, Swan… that's very nice of you." He paused as he eyed her shrewdly. "Or at least it would be if you weren't lying."

Emma sighed, but didn't try to belabor the lie. "How'd you know that?"

He smirked at her. "Open book, remember, luv? So why the blue?"

"It's just a color. Why are you making a federal case of it?" She tried to stop them, but she was pretty sure her eyes bugged out a little as she finished the sentence.

"I'm not sure what you mean by federal case, but I'm curious because you lied. And you turned pink. You don't do either very often."

"It's no big deal." She shrugged, before finally relenting and admitted, "Your eyes."

"My eyes?" he asked with confusion. "What do they have to say to the matter?"

"Really?" She furrowed her brow as she studied him. "When is the last time you looked in a mirror? I mean really looked in a mirror?" When he shrugged noncommittally, Emma grabbed his shoulders and turned him towards the mirror that hung over the dresser. Their eyes met in the reflective surface. "Look, you have blue eyes. Everyone knows that people with beautiful blue eyes should wear blue to bring them out. I saw the shirt. It was the same color as your eyes, so I bought it. That's it. That's all there is to it."

There was a charged moment of silence as his eyes flicked from her eyes to his own reflection and back again. "You think I have beautiful blue eyes?" He'd meant to say it with a smirk, for the words to sound suggestive, but it came out sounding more hopeful than anything else. He'd lived for 300 years. He knew that most thought he was devilishly handsome. However, now all that mattered was what she thought. He was eager for any sign that she wasn't indifferent to him.

She swallowed, hard. She hadn't meant to get into this conversation. When the memory potion had begun to work, the first thing she'd done was look into his eyes. And that's where her memories started, where they clicked into place. How could she have forgotten those eyes? She had no idea, except that as soon as she remembered them she wasn't entirely sure she'd ever really forgotten them. And now that her mind was a whir as she sorted though memories both fake and real, she realized that all she had to do was look into his eyes and she was anchored. However, she was either unwilling, or unable, to verbalize any of that.

So instead she waved her hand dismissively. "Of course I do. Everyone thinks you have beautiful blue eyes. Even Rumpelstiltskin probably thinks you have beautiful blue eyes. It's just a fact; don't let it go to your head."

Now he turned away from the mirror to face her directly. He'd had time to recover his smirk, swagger and suggestive tone, and they were all back with a vengeance. "But the material point is that you think I have beautiful eyes, feel free to look into them anytime, Swan."

While she was certain she was going to take him up on that, she also refused to rise to his bait, so once again she pointed to the bathroom. "Go change. We need to go get dinner; this will be a dry run to see if you can be inconspicuous. Then we need to get some sleep. We're back on the road so we can cross the border first thing tomorrow morning."

"Aye, captain." Hook smiled brightly as he grabbed the clothing and made for the door in the corner of the room. While he moved he spared a glance at the accommodation they'd rented for the night. Compared to what he was used to it was positively luxurious. But there was a solitary bed. She rented them only one room and a room with only one bed. Tonight was going to be interesting indeed.

THIRTY HOURS EARLIER

The relief he felt when he walked out of the police station and saw her standing there, waiting for him, was palpable. Almost the same feeling he'd had when she'd opened her door and he'd seen her for the first time in a year. Almost. That had been a pretty singular feeling, the best sort of feeling. He smiled widely as he walked down to her. However, as he approached she took a step back, so having learned his lesson, he slowed his pace and tried to make his approach as non-threatening as possible.

When she'd had him arrested, he was sure he'd failed his mission, miserably. He'd felt grief and loss once again gather in his chest and threaten to envelop him. It was the same pain he'd felt when he'd found himself back in the Enchanted Forest, separated from her, seemingly, forever. Then, the pain had only been eased when he'd done something, when he'd resolved to find her. And now that he had failed, it was back. Not that he had given up, but things had looked pretty bleak; especially since the officers had grumbled at him about his lack of identification or existence in the system and had said things like 'illegal alien' and 'INS' and he had no idea how he was going to get out of this predicament, let alone get back to her and convince her of the truth.

In the end, the officer hadn't been explicit about why he was being released. Only that the charges had been dropped. So when he walked out and she was there, he was certainly happy, but as she stepped back from him, he knew he needed a softer approach.

"You're out." She didn't meet his eye, choosing instead to stare at a spot directly over his shoulder.

"I assume I'm out, because of you," he countered softly.

She bit her lower lip then nodded her head a couple of times. "I, yeah, I dropped the charges."

"I'm grateful." He paused sizing her up. This both was and was not his Emma. His Emma would have put a knife to his throat until she believed he was telling the truth. This Emma didn't seem to even consider that approach, which was unfortunate. Under those circumstances he was pretty sure he could have speedily convinced her of his sincerity. But this current situation, standing on a busy New York City street, him very much out of his element, made him realized at what a disadvantage he stood. With this encounter he would finally proceed with caution and let her take the lead. She had to have had him released for a reason. "Do you mind if I ask why you dropped the charges?"

"I do," she replied sharply. However a moment later she relented and finally allowed her gaze to drift to him. Her eyes traveled the length of his body. "Look, you are clearly a weirdo; a leather-wearing, pirate-fetishist weirdo. You're talking nonsense and I swear I've never seen you before in my life."

He should have been disheartened by this speech, but something in her tone gave him hope. "But…"

"You said something. When they were leading you away and I told you to leave me alone. You said something."

"Aye. That I did."

After several moment of silence finally she continued. "You said, 'As you wish.'"

He merely nodded as he held his breath. He felt like he was in the middle of the most delicate and important negotiation of his life. "Did that… did you remember something?"

She looked to the ground and shook her head. "I don't know what this means, and I don't remember anything, but I… I felt something. An emotion. An emotion I can't connect to anything else… I can't explain it."

"Emma." He took a step forward, but she put up one hand as if to stop him, so he stalled in his tracks.

After several long seconds, she spoke. "I have questions."

He bowed to her. "And I'll answer those questions as best I can. You'll get nothing but the truth from me."

"Okay." She took a moment as she decided where to start. That's when she remembered what was in her pocket. She reached into her coat and brought out the little purple bottle. The bottle he had given her just before she'd had him arrested. "What's in this?"

He would honor his pledge to tell her nothing but the truth, but he cringed at how this was going to sound to her. "A memory potion concocted by Regina, also known as the Evil Queen. One sip and you should regain all your memories."

"You're giving me something brewed by someone called the Evil Queen?" Emma put the emphasis on the word 'evil.' "That's not exactly reassuring."

He ventured one step closer. "Normally, I would agree with you, but you have my word that I believe she is just as anxious for you and Henry to get your memories back and to return to help us as your parents or I am."

Emma furrowed her brow as she turned that over in her mind. "Okay, I'll bite. Why?"

"Because she's also Henry's mother."

Emma looked taken aback as she processed what he said. "What? How is that possible? What are we in this fairy tale of yours… a couple? Was I gay when you supposedly knew me?" She asked almost incredulously before adding (as anyone who spent hours watching sitcoms in syndication with their son would) "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

For the first time since Emma took a step back from him as he walked down the steps, Hook smiled, widely. "No, it's not like that." He took a deep breath, rethinking his honesty pledge for a split second, but only for a split second. He had no choice; the Emma he knew would accept nothing less than the unvarnished truth. "Emma, in reality, you didn't keep Henry. You gave him up for adoption and Regina adopted him. That's why you both lay claim to being his mother."

Emma visible recoiled at this. "I did not give my son up for adoption!"

He continued on as gently as he could, as gently as he knew how. "I'm sorry, but you did. As I understand it, you were in jail, Neal had left you, and you felt that you had very few options. You wanted to give him his best chance. So you gave him up for adoption."

"How do you know all of that? About jail? And how do you know about Neal?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Why are you telling me all of this? Why would I want to go to a place where I gave my son up for adoption? I admit I thought about it, but I didn't do it! Life without him… what you're suggesting is unthinkable! We're happy. He's happy. If I believed any of this, which I don't," however she sounded less convinced of this with every passing second. "Why would I go back to a place where I gave up my son? He's my whole world!"

This was it, his best opportunity. He took a chance and gently gripped her shoulders; finally she looked up at him. Their eyes met and the intensity in his threatened to steel her breath away. Whoever this man was, he believed what he was saying with his whole heart. That certainly gave him credence, however just because he believed it didn't mean it was true.

Hook took a deep breath, he felt as if he was taking a dive off the tallest point of his ship. He searched her eyes as he began. "Because the Emma Swan I know would not want to live a make believe life with make believe memories. She would want what was real, what was true. She'd want real moments, good and bad. Even if there was pain… but, Emma, it's not all pain, I promise you. When your memories were taken, you had Henry. You're not losing him by regaining your memories. But that's not all you had. You also had your parents. You had friends. You had Neal. You had a place where you belonged… and you had me." By the time he'd come to reference himself in the speech, his voice was low and had taken on a husky quality.

Emma listened and her mind began turning the scenario. What if what he said was true? It was ridiculous, but if it was true, if it was possible, then someone owed her an explanation. The pain, the abandonment she'd felt her entirely life, it was almost too much.

"If I had all these people, why was I found abandoned on the side of the road!?" Emma nearly yelled. "If I had parents, where were they? Why did they allow that to happen? And Neal? He sent me to jail! Why did he do that? Where was he when I was alone and pregnant with his child? And who the hell are you to me?" Emma blinked back the tears that were threatening behind her eyes. But they didn't fall, just as they hadn't when she'd said goodbye to her life a year earlier. The Emma he knew, tough as nails, was still in there.

With his right hand, he reached over and gently took the purple bottle from her hand. In a practiced gesture he pulled the stopper out with his teeth before catching it in his palm. Offering the vial to her, he murmured, "One way to find out."

Cautiously she took the bottle. What was she doing? This was ridiculous. But she didn't stop. This had to end one way or another. "This is crazy. What you're saying is crazy. But to put an end to it, I'll take this." She gestured to the bottle in her hand. "But when nothing happens, you stop talking to me about giving up Henry and these mythical, wonderful parents who still ended up abandoning me, okay?"

He nodded, hoping with everything that was sacred that Regina had brewed a successful memory potion.

Her eyes never leaving his, she tilted the bottle to her lips. The effect was immediate, but it took her several moments to process the flashes and feelings. It was as if the world was set to rights, and suddenly all her memories were intact, but she couldn't access them all at once. There were too many, they contained too much information. To ground herself, she focused on Hook's face. On his eyes. Of course, Hook, with the beautiful blue eyes- who could ever forget those eyes- and the pirate swagger and his lust for revenge. Captain Hook. THE Captain Hook. Her ally. Her enemy. Then her ally again. Then her friend. Then the kiss. Hook. Emma's eyes grew wide as recognition took hold of her, she whispered, "Hook."

That was all he needed to crush her to him. "Emma," he murmured as he wrapped his left arm around her back and brought his right hand up to cradle her neck. He squeezed her to him as he closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair. When it came to singular moments, this was definitely one. Only hours ago he'd felt a deep, dark despair begin to creep in on him. And now here she was, remembering him, in his embrace. He'd never been so happy to hold someone in his arms in his entire life. Relief coursed through him, he hadn't failed after all. He'd found her. And she was okay.

She allowed him to hold her for several long moments as she continued processing the situation. There was no doubt in her mind of who this man was and that it felt good to be in his arms. In fact it felt very good. The rest was a jumble. She felt like a release valve had been lifted on pressure she didn't even know existed- as if the lies of her life had been gathered in a bubble around her, just waiting to burst, and now they had. Many of them had been good lies, good falsehoods, but they were falsehoods nonetheless. This was real. He was real. But now, as her mind tried to sort what was real and what was not, she needed answers more than ever.

"Hook." She pushed back on him slightly, but he didn't release her. "Hook!" She repeated, but slightly louder and she pushed with more force. This time his arms lessened their grip on her and he leaned back slightly to see her face. "I have a lot of questions."

He chuckled lightly at the understatement. "I'm sure you do, luv."

Emma allowed herself a moment, a moment to try and think. What was to be done? Finally, she tugged on his arm. "We should get off the street. Let's go back to my place."

He nodded in agreement. "Lead the way."

She began to walk and he followed behind her. They'd been walking in silence for about a minute, when it hit her. He'd found her. Hook had been sent to the Enchanted Forest with everyone else when the curse struck. That meant he'd found a way to cross back. Not an easy task. Actually, it was an almost impossible task. Without warning she stopped and turned to face him. He almost ran smack into her, only avoiding a collision at the last second.

"What's wrong, Emma?" His voice held concern.

They were only inches apart and she felt his proximity acutely. She took a moment and searched his face, trying to commit it to memory all over again. Could you miss something, you couldn't remember? Now that she remembered, she knew the answer was yes. The feeling she'd had in the park, and really since he'd shown up on her doorstep. It was longing. She'd missed him even though she'd had no recollection of him. "You found me. How?"

That brought a slight smile to his lips. There were many things he wanted her to know, he wanted her to know how he had began looking for a way back to her almost as soon as they parted. How he had kept his promise to think of her every day. How he had insisted it be him and how he brooked no opposition. The dangers he'd faced and the means he'd employed to prevail. More than anything he wanted to gather her in his arms once again and tell her he would have found her or died trying, but he knew it would be wise to continue easing her into her new reality. There were still shocks to come.

So instead he merely looked her in the eye as he said, "Any means necessary."

TBC…