A very big THANK YOU to my beta, OnceUponSomeChaos who tightened this up and made it way better than it started out. Plus, it was less fluffy by at least half until she pushed for more. Not to mention that you probably wouldn't even be reading this because the summary sucked before she got her hands on it, so make sure to thank her for me by going and reading her stuff too.

Emma stared across the room at Hook, who stood by the bookshelf; book in hand, flipping the pages with his hook too rapidly to actually be reading.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He snapped the book shut and spun to face her with an almost guilty expression.

She saw the book jacket and smiled. "I wouldn't, if I were you."

He walked over to where she reclined on the couch. He lifted her legs from the cushions and placed them on his lap as he sat down.

"And why is that, love?"

Emma sighed. "I just wouldn't."

She could tell he took her words as a challenge by the way his eyes narrowed and his lips curled up. He opened the book and resumed his perusal of the pages. She exchanged a knowing glance with Henry, who sat in the over-sized arm chair, his own book forgotten for the moment, before she turned to watch Hook for his reaction. He made faces and muttered occasionally but continued to skim through the pages.

Henry shook his head with a smile on his face and returned to his own book. Emma still held hers on her lap, content for the moment to just sit with her legs draped across Hook and watch him and Henry read. It was a surreal experience, this easy, comfortable moment. It had been at least a week since the last crisis and everyone was relaxed and enjoining the blissful respite from all enchanted drama.

Emma heard her parents in the kitchen where they were supposedly cleaning up after dinner but, judging by the occasional giggle she heard from Mary Margaret, they weren't making much progress. They just recently moved into this house that belonged to David and Katherine under the original curse. When Mary Margaret became pregnant, Katherine told David he could have it, since she now lived with Fredrick on the other side of town.

After about ten minutes of sitting like this, during which Emma had to shove Hook with her foot several times for his language, he slammed the book shut and tossed it on the coffee table.

Emma saw the fury in his eyes – well, she'd warned him – and smiled to help ease his mood. "What part did you get to?"

"I'll have you know," he said, glaring daggers, "that my blood is the exact same color as everyone else's. I should know. Enough has been spilled."

Her chest tightened. She didn't want to think about any of his blood being spilled.

"Further than last time," Henry said without looking up from his book.

"I told you not to read it." She put a soothing hand on his arm.

"I just want to know how it ends, darling." He paused, licked his lips, then added, "Won't you give me what I want?"

She rolled her eyes at the emphasis he placed on the last three words and how it made them sound completely dirty. She had long stopped being bothered by it – he was upset; that's how he dealt with it – but she could never let him know that.

We all have our little things, she thought.

She slid closer to him on the couch, checking to make sure Henry was still paying attention to his book. "You afraid I'll leave you unsatisfied?"

Her comment had its desired result. The anger left his eyes and his mouth tweaked into a smile. "I'm talking about the book, love," he said, affecting an air of innocence. He leaned closer to her and whispered so only she could hear, "We can address your depravity later."

She tilted her head and smirked at him, trying to mask how much she enjoyed this: their comfortable banter, their closeness on the couch, and her family around her.

"You promise?" she asked.

Hook gave her a wicked grin. "Only if you tell me the ending of that blasted book."

Emma raised her eyebrows at him, questioning if he really wanted that. His earnest expression was almost laughable. She decided to grant his request.

"You die."

"What?!"

Hook stood as he shouted, causing Emma's legs to slide off him and almost land her on the floor, as her parents ran into the room.

"Bloody hell, Swan. What kind of a world do you live in? And this is a children's story?"

Henry tried to hide his snickers behind his book. Emma looked at her parents and caught David's amused smirk as he led Mary Margaret back into the kitchen.

"You know," Henry began, closing his book again, "we could write you a new story, like in my fairy tale book."

Hook's expression softened a little. Encouraged, Henry continued.

"But to be in the book, you'd have had to have been cursed in Storybrooke."

This piqued Emma's interest. "What do you think your cursed persona would have been?"

He sat back down on the couch. He was still upset, but Emma could tell he was coming around by the roguish grin that spread across his face.

"Devilishly handsome, of course. Charming…" he paused in thought.

"Yes?" David appeared in the doorway again.

Hook frowned at him. "What?"

"You said 'Charming' so I came."

Emma had to bite back the giggle that threatened to escape at Hook's expression.

"When have I ever called you 'Charming,' mate?"

Emma choked on her laugh and covered it with a cough. David looked between the two of them before shrugging and returning back to the kitchen.

"Why don't you do it, Mom?" Henry said. "Give him a new story?"

Emma considered it for a minute, narrowing her eyes in concentration at Hook. He raised an eyebrow and an idea hit her.

"A new story for Hook… with a cursed Storybrooke identity…" A slow smile spread on her face. "I think it should begin…

Once upon a time, there was a princess named Emma, only she didn't know she was a princess because her parents had to put her in a Magic Wardrobe to escape a curse cast by an Evil Queen.

"You forgot 'beautiful,' love…" Emma glared at Hook. "...beautiful princess."

"No, Hook, I did not forget 'beautiful.' And if you're going to interrupt I'm not going to do this."

Hook didn't apologize but he did nod his acquiescence.

Anyway, the baby princess Emma grew up in the real world…

"Technically, Mom, the Enchanted Forest is real…"

"Henry…" Emma scowled.

"Mind your mum, lad. I want my story." Hook winked at Henry.

"Sorry. Go ahead; I'll keep quiet too."

Emma fixed them both with stares before continuing.

The baby princess grew up in the land without magic, and had no idea about her parents, or about the fact that the son she had given up for adoption had found his way to them. Not until her 28th birthday.

After blowing out a candle on her cupcake, wishing not to be alone on her birthday, someone knocked on her door. To her surprise, her son had found her and, using her mother's credit card, had taken all kinds of public transportation from Maine to Boston to find her.

"And we are eternally grateful for that, Henry." Emma hadn't heard Mary Margaret and David enter, but they stood in the doorway, listening. She held her mother's gaze, giving her a small smile as she felt the overwhelming – and frankly overpowering – love radiating from her parents.

"So am I," Henry said, and then his expression quickly turned to one of wide-eyed innocence. He had been hanging around the pirate too long. "But you have to be quiet or Emma won't finish the story."

"Sure," David said.

"Right. Of course." Mary Margaret agreed. Emma gave them one last tight smile before proceeding.

So, then Emma's son, Henry, persuaded Emma to bring him back to Storybrooke, his plan to trick her to stay once she arrived. Even though she thought his mother – who turned out to be the Evil Queen who cast the curse – was a little bit off, she decided to leave. Henry, however, was smart, and left his book in her car, ensuring she return.

But as she drove out of town, she lost control of her car and crashed, totaling the car and landing herself in jail.

Emma stopped, a lump in her throat. She met Hook's gaze and he gave her an encouraging smile. She was able to continue.

When in jail, she met the sheriff, but she also met the police captain.

"We didn't have a police captain…" Mary Margaret began.

"Snow…" David said, a warning edge to his voice.

"Oh, right. Got it."

Emma didn't continue.

"I'm sorry, Emma," Snow said. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"No, it's just…" Emma glanced at Henry. "I need a name for him."

"James Hook," Henry suggested. Hook glared at the book sitting on the table.

Emma wrinkled her nose. "No."

"Dean Moriarty? " Snow said.

"Who?" Emma asked, frowning.

Snow perked up, the schoolteacher in Mary Margaret shining through. "The fictionalized version of Neal Cassady. "

You could have dropped a pin and heard it echo throughout the room. Snow glanced at each person, her expression becoming more uncomfortable with each pair of eyes she met.

Hook leaned back against the couch and folded his arms across his chest. "So I'm an imaginary version of Baelfire?" His voice was dangerously low.

"What about 'Han Solo'?" Henry asked quickly. "Because Han's a pirate, and he left the good guys to destroy the Death Star without him, even though they needed him, but then he decided to come back and help because he loved the princess, but didn't know it yet, and wanted to be a part of something." He turned and smiled at Hook. "Just like you."

Emma felt a familiar and somewhat painful swelling in her chest as she and Hook locked gazes. David ruined the moment.

"Or Hand Solo," he said, chuckling. "It could be ironic."

"That's not irony, mate," Hook said blandly, his eyes narrowing at David.

David's expression and continued laugh clearly said he didn't care.

"I got it," Emma said.

The police captain introduced himself as Ciaran Smith and offered her a ride to Granny's where she could get a room for the night.

"I believe what the Captain offered was that once in her room at Granny's, the princess…"

"Hook!" Emma shouted over him, knowing by his lascivious smile that the end of his sentence would not be suitable for children. She widened her eyes and inclined her head towards Henry.

Looking appropriately chastised, Hook nodded his head once. "Continue, love."

Hook, err... Captain Smith stayed with the princess only long enough to make sure she was settled in her room. Once alone, Emma fell right asleep, but not Captain Jones.

"Smith…"

"Right… Sorry…"

...but not Captain Smith. He went back to the station and sat at his desk, completely besotted with the girl who had just come to town. He couldn't wait to see her again, coming up with various clever and not so clever excuses to go back to Granny's and talk to her. He decided to go to Granny's for breakfast the next day to hopefully run into her.

When he got there, she wasn't there, to his great disappointment. You see, Henry had run away again and Emma had to go find him. She did, and he asked her to stay in Storybrooke. She agreed to stay for a week, which turned into a month, which turned into longer. But that was ok, because she had found her family.

Captain Smith did eventually meet Emma for breakfast at Granny's. At first, she hoped he would leave her alone, but after spending some time with him, she realized how nice it was to have him there. He told her how he became an officer - a cursed memory, but still an interesting story. He'd gotten into trouble with the law as a young man and it inspired him to go into law enforcement.

She enjoyed her time with Captain Smith, and with Henry, the three of them working on Operation Cobra: the mission to break the curse that only Henry really believed in to start, although Emma and the Captain were quickly converted into believers.

It wasn't all easy, though. The Evil Queen tried to get between the three of them and intimidate Emma into leaving, going so far as to frame her for crimes and have her arrested repeatedly.

Emma stopped, reminded of the harsh reality of what actually happened after and not wanting to think, or talk, about it. She should have started the story after she had already become sheriff and avoided the whole painful subject. She looked to Mary Margaret, her friend and confidant at that time.

"Ok, Henry," David said, his lips pressed into a thin line as he met Emma's gaze. "Time for bed if you're staying here tonight."

"How was that Hook's story?" Henry asked, his voice bordering on a whine.

"Oh it was," Hook said. "Or at least the start of it. Tomorrow night, lad, remind me to tell you the part about Captain Smith and the beanstalk…" His tone was light, joking, but the look he turned on Emma was intense.

Henry grumbled some more but stood up and David and Mary Margaret led him up the stairs.

"I should probably go up to say goodnight…" she said, swinging her legs off the couch.

"Not so fast, Swan." Hook said, placing his hand on her knee. "What, exactly, was that?"

"I just tell it like it is, Captain…"

"Is that so?" he asked, his voice soft, his eyes probing right into her.

Emma slid backwards on the couch; away from him, away from his questions.

"We all have ghosts in our past, love."

"I don't…" She stopped when she saw his knowing gaze. There was no use lying to him; he could read her like… well, like an open book, as he was so fond of saying.

He shifted towards her, placing her legs back on his lap. "Allow me to tell you a story, if I may."

"Hook…"

"No, love, it's only fair. And I believe it begins…

Once upon a time, there was a ruthless pirate, feared in all the realms. And well he should be, as his heart was as black as any. He was a broken man, hell bent on nothing but vengeance.

"Hook…" Emma held her hand out towards him. He took it in his and pressed a kiss against her knuckles before returning it to her lap. He did not release it, but instead ran his thumb in gentle circles across the backs of her fingers.

"I'm just getting started, darling." The corner of his mouth quirked up.

Emma sighed in defeat. "Go on…"

He rewarded her with a gleaming smile before continuing.

His revenge led him down many a dark path, but none as contemptible as his alliance with the Queen of Hearts. Although, because of this association, his life changed. For it was during this time that he came upon a band of princesses, or rather, they came upon him; hiding among the pile of corpses of the villagers Cora had viciously slain.

They all were beautiful – the princesses, not the corpses – but one more so than the others. Of course, she mocked him, she challenged him, she put a knife to his bloody neck…

Emma scoffed. "You lied and said you were a blacksmith."

"Wouldn't you have regretted if I'd been telling the truth and you left an innocent man to die a gruesome death at the hands of the ogres?" he teased.

"No," she lied.

He raised an eyebrow and she mirrored the action, which elicited a chuckle from him.

"Shall I continue?"

She shrugged, tilting her head to the side.

"Encouraging, Swan…"

She smirked at him as he resumed speaking.

She bested him; she impressed him; she damn well nearly destroyed him. She was bloody brilliant, amazing, and he could not chase her from his thoughts. But he was a fool, determinedly on his path, and although her plight to return to her son became important to him as well, it was a distant second to his desire for vengeance.

Still, he found his plans including her. Despite his harsh words to her at the crocodile's cell, he had already worked out a way to free her and return her to her son.

"Ok, I'm going to call bullshit on that."

Hook looked affronted. "I had a plan."

"Which was?"

"Accompany Cora to Storybrooke, kill the crocodile – without magic he would have been easily dispatched – then return to the Enchanted Forest with the bean the giant gave me."

"Anton? He gave it to you?"

"Yes, he's a lovely chap. Very lonely. Very loquacious. Told me all about the sprout he had that would regrow the beanstalks."

Emma tried to work out his logic. "So you were going to use the dried up bean to come back, and then have him grow new plants?"

Hook nodded. "Essentially, yes. But then you proved how resourceful you were, once again, and escaped the cell on your own, so my plans changed. You and your mum could use the compass to return to Storybrooke. I had the bean; I could follow you there.

Emma shot him a disbelieving look. "So you're telling me you let me win our sword fight."

He leaned towards her. "Emma, love, had I actually been trying you would have felt my sword, and not in the good way…"

Emma rolled her eyes and sighed, gently shoving him away. "That still left Cora…"

"Yes, well, I was trying to work that part out when you clobbered me with the compass…"

Emma looked at him and shook her head. "But why? You'd just met me."

"Aye," he said, brushing her hair back over her shoulder. "I'd just met you. And in Neverland it was just a kiss. And when your memories returned it was just one night."

"Hook," she protested, her cheeks heating at the memory.

"Swan," he said in response, sliding even closer to her. "It has never been 'just' anything for me."

She held his piercing gaze for a moment until their lips met in what was definitely not just a kiss, bringing story time to an end for the evening.