A/n:

Summary: Hook gets caught stealing and Emma tries to arrest him.
Rated: M
Song: Heartlines - Florence + the Machine


Emma sat by the door and tugged on her boots, the remnants of sleep still clinging to her consciousness. She stood and snagged her keys off the counter, glad that no one else was in the apartment. Charming and Snow had moved into the house he had shared with Kathryn, Henry was spending the night with Regina, and Aurora and Mulan were at Granny's. Thus, the apartment was hers. It was still sweltering from when Henry and Charming had been staying, both seeming to enjoy living in a sauna. Like grandfather like grandson, apparently. Emma opened the door and slipped out into the hallway, closing the door softly behind her. She had received the phone call only three minutes prior.

"Sheriff, we've had a break in! We've apprehended our thief, but he's making quite a ruckus." Emma recognized the voice of Jack, the town tailor.

Emma's eyes rolled into the back of her head, her bones screaming in protest at getting up. "Alright, I'm on my way."

They had been back less than a week, and she was already back on the job, responsible for the welfare of the town, getting called out of bed at three o'clock in the fucking morning. Emma walked to the tailor's shop since it was only a few blocks away, pulling her coat a little tighter around herself. When did it get so cold? All the lights were on and Jack's wife, Lily, was waiting out on the step for her.

"Fool didn't realize that we had an electric alarm," Lily said, looking at her curiously. Emma shrugged in response; how was she to know that thief was stupid?

She went inside, hiding a yawn under the cover of a cough, and felt her shoulders instantly sag when she noted the thief. Hook was strapped to a chair, comically bound in three different colors of ribbon; she nearly choked on her own laughter.

Jack was standing over Hook, his arms folded, his expression self-righteous, his eyes glaring down at him; Hook glared back, unable to curse due to the lavender colored silk gagging him. Emma's chuckle wasn't quiet enough, and drew his attention to her. Emma smirked at him, one eyebrow raised; the moment his eyes rested on her, she could identify a sheepish sort of smile in his eyes. She took a moment to appraise him, noting that he had updated his wardrobe, doubtless with stolen clothes; she was more reluctant to admit that it suited him.

She sighed, shaking her head. "Can you untie him while keeping his hands bound?"

Jack nodded and obliged her, untying him piece by piece. All the while, Killian's eyes never strayed from hers, his darkening eyes saying more than his silence. He stood, his hands still bound behind his back, an unapologetic smile on his face. Emma felt a shiver, a tingling in her skin. All of a sudden she felt incredibly reluctant to walk back to the Sheriff's station with him, bound or not; there was a look in his eyes that concerned her. The last time she had seen that look, she had just saved his life.

"Where is it?" Cora demanded to know, keeping Hook pinned against the cave wall with her magic. It had been easy to find her, in all actuality. After climbing down from the beanstalk, Emma had forced the group to press onward, but only in so far as the tree line, with one sentry keeping an eye on the beanstalk at all times. Then, they made camp. They didn't understand her motives, especially after Emma went to such lengths to ensure that they had ten hours before Hook was freed - they assumed that she would want to flee before Hook freed himself and came after them.

Emma knew better, however. She was counting on the pirate to go to Cora after her betrayal, was counting on him to lead them right to her. And it worked. Hook descended the beanstalk, and began to walk west. Upon realizing that Emma had manipulated the circumstances to ensure that they found Cora, and that Hook was unable to betray them, they didn't quite look at her the same way again. Mulan showed a healthy dose of respect, even admiration; Snow, however, seemed concerned, wary, about the method Emma chose to find Cora. It was underhanded and sneaky, the kind of thing... a pirate would do. Emma didn't care about the means as much as she cared about the end - Henry. Her mother was just going to have to get over it.

They followed him through the night; he never stopped to rest or eat, but pressed on. He didn't stop until he reached a cave; he checked over his shoulder, attempting to detect if anyone was following him, and then entered the mouth of the cave. They all agreed to search the surrounding area first, to make sure that this wasn't a trap; Emma waited until they left to complete the respective tasks before moving forward: Hook and Cora could already be opening the portal to Storybrooke. The sight she came upon was not one she expected to see.

"Where is it?" Cora asked again, her voice growing angry.

"I... I don't have it," Hook gasped, the magic constricting his throat. "It... it wasn't there. They thought I betrayed them when we couldn't find the compass."

Emma frowned. Why was he lying? Was he really that ashamed to admit that he had been beaten by her?

Cora clucked her tongue, her anger diminishing to a simmer. "My dear Captain, you never were much of a liar, were you? Which one was it? The princess Aurora?" Cora looked into his eyes searchingly, cocking her head side to side as though working out a puzzle. "No, of course it had to be her. The prophesied child of Snow White and Prince Charming, True Love in human form. What would Milah say, I wonder, if she knew that you let yourself get distracted by a pair of pretty blue eyes?"

Ouch. Emma winced; the expression on Hooks face was one anger, yes, but also shame and guilt.

"No matter," Cora murmured, sighing. "You won't get off track again - I'm going to make sure of it." She thrust her hand forward into his chest, causing Hook to roar, his face turning red, his expression pained.

Emma didn't think about what she was going to do, she just reacted. Her sword was drawn before she realized that she had done; her right foot planted in front of her, her left foot extending behind her at an angle; the sword flew from her fingertips, much in the same way it had when she slew the dragon, and embedded itself hilt deep within Cora's chest. She never saw it coming. Her last breath escaped her, her eyes wandering up to Emma's face, her mouth opening to speak, before her body crumpled in a heap. The magic holding Hook disintegrated, releasing him. He stumbled forward, his eyes wide in shock.

"Emma," He breathed her name, confusion and uncertainty in his eyes.

Emma felt warm all over, her mouth dry. She had just killed someone. Evil or not, this had been a person. Her knees buckled, and the last thing she recalled was Hook's arms around her waist, his low voice in her ear.

"Why? Why did you save me Emma?" The intensity in his eyes, the depth, was the last thing Emma did before she fainted in his arms.

She awoke two days later, in her own bed in Storybrooke, with no notion of how she got there. Her mother told her that Hook carried her back to them and opened the portal, that they all made it back to Storybrooke, and that he took off and hadn't been seen since.

Until now. Emma noted the intensity in his eyes, and noticed that there was something else lingering beneath the surface this time. An emotion she recognized all too well; lust. It was then that she noticed that Jack had kept his eyes averted the entire time she had been there, and that Lily had a small, knowing smile on her face. Frowning, Emma glanced down; she was wearing a sheer silk top - not completely see through, thank god - but not exactly outerwear, over her equally sheer pajama bottoms. And her boots. And her coat. She flinched, feeling the blush climbing upwards from her neck, but didn't give any other visible reaction. In her exhaustion and rush she had forgotten to change - that was all.

"Let's go," She said, keeping her face expressionless, her tone clipped.

Even with the gag she could tell he was grinning. He said something, his words muffled by the gag. Jack moved to take it off, stopping only when Emma intervened. "No, Jack. The gag can stay on." Emma said, smirking at Hook; serves him right for... lusting after her when she was arresting him. Her self-satisfaction dimmed, however, when his grin only grew. She resisted the urge to rub her temples; she just couldn't win.

"Goodnight Jack, Lily," Emma said, acknowledging them with a smile. "I'll make sure you get your clothes back tomorrow."

"He can have them," Jack said, snorting. "Can't really sell them after he's been wearing them. Just make sure he's uncomfortable tonight, will you?"

Emma smiled, nodding. "Sure thing Jack," He really was a kind man.

Emma and Hook left the shop, turning left when outside. Emma gestured for him to follow her, sure that he wasn't going to run; he was enjoying her predicament too much.

"You're not going to say anything love?"

Emma snorted and shook her head. "Not much to say is there? You broke in to a shop, stole some clothes, and got caught."

"I was talking about your manner of dress, darling. Do that just for me, did you?"

Manner of dress? Really? "It's three o'clock in the morning, Hook. I was tired." Emma shivered when the wind blew, pulling her coat around herself a little more tightly.

"Why did you save me?"

"What?"

"From Cora. Why did you save me? You'd already betrayed me - what was the point of saving me?"

"It was the right thing to do," Emma replied, the words sounding somewhat hollow even to her own ears.

"Interesting, but not quite true. I think you felt something, pet, something you're afraid to name out loud."

"Oh, and what is that?" She stopped the moment the words came out of her mouth, only a few feet from the Sheriff's station. She never had time to turn around; Hook snagged her by her hand, yanking her into a nearby alley, his body trapping her against the wall. She squeaked in surprise, her mind drawing a blank on how to react.

She could have kicked herself. Their conversation should have been her first clue; he was still gagged when the left the shop. He smiled at her, that infuriating smirk that did unspeakably pleasant things to her stomach. He held her wrists pinned above her head with one hand, his forehead leaning against hers.

"This," His husky voice murmured as he pressed his lips to hers, his teeth teasing her lower lip. Her mouth opened in a slight gasp, and that was all the cue he needed. His tongue pillaged the inside of her mouth, his tongue caressing hers in the midst of their passion. Emma felt breathless, mindless, pure. Nothing existed outside this moment, away from his lips and the pressure of his hips against hers. He smelled like a warm sea breeze, and tasted like rum and tobacco; and she felt no shame, in that moment, in admitting to herself that she had never before experienced this kind of passion. He pulled back, his tongue withdrawing, his lips lingering only for a second.

Emma felt gratified to realize that his breathing was heavy and short, that his expression seemed just as conflicted - even showed a little surprise. Clearly he hadn't been expecting it to go that far. Emma rolled her hips against him, grinding against the rough material of his jeans. He groaned, inhaling sharply, his eyes meeting hers under the dim lamp light. They were searching her face for some sort of cue, some indication of whether she wanted him to continue or back off. Emma repeated the motion of her hips more slowly, just as intimately, and Hook seemed to get the message. His hand released her wrists, sliding through her hair and down her back, cupping her ass. He pinned her to the wall using his hips, gyrating to an unheard rhythm that Emma's body seemed to recognize, responding in her own way. Her wrists free, she raked her fingers through his hair, brushing over the stubble on his chin, resting on his lips. Leaning forward, never breaking eye contact, his mouth closed around the tip of her index finger, sucking on it gently. Emma released a shuddering breath, her other hand trailing down his side. She unbuttoned the black oxford shirt he had dawned by trailing a finger down his chest, hooking her finger in the open spaces between the buttons and tugging until they either came undone or popped off altogether.

"Easy with the shirt love, I just -" He never finished his sentence. Emma removed her finger from his mouth and trailed it down his chest, her mouth catching him in a punishing kiss. If she had ever said out loud that the accent did nothing for her, she lied. Because, fuck, it did everything for her. He returned her kiss just as harshly, smirking against her lips. He broke the kiss and trailed his tongue down the length of her throat, pausing to suck hard on her pulse point. Emma gasped, felt her heart race and her knees go weak; judging by his reaction, he felt it too. Her hands went to his belt, undoing the buckled and yanking it out of the loops one by one, each tug creating that much sought after friction.

The belt finally fell to the ground, and Emma's fingers undid the button of his jeans, the zipper following. Killian sensing her motives moved on, he brought his hook up to her collarbone causing her to still in her actions for a moment. A wicked grin seated on his lips, he caught the sheer material of her shirt with the tip of his hook and yanked it downwards. The material ripped with ease, much to Emma's chagrin. She opened her mouth to protest but lost her words the moment his lips found their way to her cleavage. He pulled her bra down around her ribcage with his hook, and she felt grateful that he hadn't ripped it as he had her shirt. His mouth hovered over her right breast, the warmth of his breath in contrast to the cool air hardening her nipples. His lips closed around the nubs, sucking gently at first, and steadily growing harder and more rough.

In retaliation, Emma slipped her hand into his unzipped jeans, gripping his already hard length in her hand through his boxers. He shuddered against her, faltering in his ministrations as she palmed him, alternatively tugging and then gently rubbing the tip with her thumb. His eyes rolled back in his head, and Emma relished in the control she felt she had over him - even if it only lasted for a moment. His hook dipped to her waistband and Emma heard the distinct ripping sound that internally made her cringe; externally she whimpered in anticipation. A single tug was all it took for her panties to slide down one leg, leaving her bare apart from her coat and her boots. He redirected her hand to his lower back, maintaining eye contact with her as he freed his pulsing member from the constraints of his boxers.

He pushed her harder against the wall, his cock meeting the sensitive skin of her folds. Both shuddered at the contact, their breath coming out in short uneven breaths. She gripped his ass through his jeans, squeezing a buttock hard, urging him forward. He gritted his teeth, almost snarling at the contact. His hand positioned his member to penetrate her sex, the tip already waiting at her folds, not moving his hips, he slid his hand around her lower back to grip her ass, returning the same favor she had just bestowed upon him.

He thrust upwards with no preamble, no warning. Both groaned in ecstasy, the stars themselves seeming to shine a little more brightly. Emma hissed for a moment, her breath escaping her. It had been so long since she'd had sex, since she'd let herself be so intimate with anyone. His teeth dug first into her shoulder, and then nipped lovingly at the sensitive flesh of her throat. He withdrew completely, causing Emma to growl in frustration, glaring at him in a lust-induced passion. He smirked and slammed into her again, using his hook to gently lift her leg over his waist, and then using his hand to force her other leg to do the same. Emma obliged, letting him guide her legs where he wanted him; she felt herself being lifted upwards, felt her back slam against the brick wall of the building as he drove into her at a new angle.

His lips had found her breasts again, sucking one moment and biting the next, driving Emma insane in her quest for release. "Hook," She hissed, beginning to feel agitated with his teasing. He stopped and bit down particularly harshly. She bit back a scream and panted, looking at him in confusion.

"Killian, darling, my name is Killian. Say it," He rocked his hips slightly, inviting her to do as he asked and continue their tryst.

"Killian," She said, acquiescing to his desire. His attentions were renewed with a vigor, his hips jerking in a complex rhythm that was causing excruciating amounts of pleasure. "Killian," She whispered again, enjoying the response she received every time she said it. Were she in a more reflective state of mind, she might have wondered how long it had been since someone had actually called him by his name. As it were, her brain was more pleasurably occupied. She began to repeat his name, whispering it in his ear. He, in turn, began doing the same. His low voice hoarse, breathy, wanting; "Emma," He kissed her, thrusting a little more fiercely. "My darling," Emma felt an unusual heat coil in her pelvis as he began whispering petnames after her name, alternating between what seemed like over a hundred monikers. My pet, my darling, my love, my sweetheart, my goddess, my siren, my vixen, my heart, my soul; Emma would have reviled them had he called her any of them in a different place or time, but in this moment, they were nothing less than a prayer in her honor, spoken with reverence reserved for a goddess.

Their climax came unexpectedly, hard and fast, and exquisite. The earth shook beneath Killian's feet, the brick behind her back seeming to fade away into nothingness. They rode the climax out hard, Emma feeling as though Killian was going to pound her into the wall - and she should be so lucky if it meant prolonging this sensation. Killian slid out of her, causing Emma to slide back down the wall, the rough brick catching on her coat. They panted, leaning against one another for support; Emma herself could barely stand. Her legs felt like jello. The wind picking up reminded her where they were, what they had done where they were, and the fact that she was now essentially naked underneath her coat.

"Fuck." She hissed, eyeing the Sheriff's station from the alley. It was just across the street, she could make it without being seen right? It was still pretty early. She had a spare change of clothes she kept in her desk, for when she worked long nights.

"We just did love, but I'd be more than happy to go again if you like,"

Emma sighed and resisted the urge to laugh. "Clothes, Killian, clothes." He removed his coat first, and then his ripped oxford shirt, tying around her waist, and fashioning it into a skirt.

"Satisfied?" Though Emma knew he was talking about the skirt, she couldn't help but snort.

He grinned a cheshire grin and pulled her coat closed, buttoning it to hide her bare skin. "Weren't you arresting me, Sheriff?" He asked, and offered her an arm to escort her across the street.

Emma raised an eyebrow. "You want to be arrested?" She inquired, taking his arm as though they were lovers on a stroll - as though her lover was escorting her to work.

"Well, no, but that is where you keep your handcuffs isn't it?" He replied, leaning in closer to whisper in her ear. He chuckled when she froze, and threw an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as they walked.

He took the keys from her hands and unlocked the doors, entering and keeping it open with one foot.

"Coming love?" He winked, his lusty gaze traveling the length of her body.

Emma wondered, her head now clear, what exactly she had just gotten herself into. Yet, as he opened the door for her and gave her half a bow, a devilish grin on his face, she found that she simply didn't care.

"You're still getting arrested after this," She stated matter of factly before walking past him, sliding her coat off of her shoulders as she walked by.