Title: Kissblocked
Summary: Five times Hook and Emma almost kissed … and one time they did. Post season 2.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, or these two idiots would be making out constantly. No infringement intended.
From a purely detached point of view, Hook looked really, really good wet.
Emma brushed a sopping bunch of hair out of her eyes and continued to tread water, trying to determine if the pirate was injured at all. He didn't appear to be hurt. He was the picture of health, really, with strands of his dark hair slicked artistically across his forehead, the flush in his cheeks making his stunning blue eyes stand out even more.
From a detached point of view, of course.
In the 24 hours since they'd landed in the oceans of Neverland, Emma had had to adjust her thinking, for the sake of her own sanity. If everything she'd ever heard about this land wasn't true, if it seemed like every type of creature and plant was as deadly as it was beautiful, if the Lost Boys weren't actually kids and even Peter freaking Pan was a bad guy, she was just going to have to push back her expectations and take everything as it came.
"Hope for the best, plan for the worst" had been her motto for many years, and it seemed the less she expected out of Neverland, the better.
Take, for example, the mermaid that somehow leaped out of the water and snatched Hook right off the deck of his ship.
Emma could have wasted time wondering how the fairy tales painted mermaids as beautiful angels of the sea when they were nasty, ugly bitches — the one that grabbed Hook resembled a catfish with a really bad seaweed wig. That, however, wouldn't do a thing to save the man who was her best chance of getting back her son.
So … overboard it was.
She'd thrown herself over the side without much of a thought. And, sadly, without her gun. At least the water was warm — and crystal clear. Once she'd managed to spot them underwater, grab the creature around the neck and pull hard enough to get them back to the surface, the pirate had been freed up enough to stab the thing with his hook a few times until she let go and disappeared.
At least for the moment.
She was about to ask Hook if he was okay when she realized he was speaking.
"Who is Ariel?"
"What?"
"You were yelling at the mermaid," he said, raising an eyebrow. He spoke in an exaggerated girly voice that she figured was supposed to mimic her, "Let go, Ariel!"
"Oh." She huffed out a laugh. She hadn't realized she'd said a word. "It was a fairy tale. 'The Little Mermaid.' She wanted to be human and — What the hell?"
She felt something brush her from behind and all but jumped forward toward Hook. "What the hell was that?" She scanned the water for signs of the mermaid, or one of her merfriends.
Hook laughed and pointed past her face. "Settle down, lass, it's just some driftwood."
"I was afraid that bitch was back for mo—" She turned to face him, stuttering to silence as she realized just how close she was to him now. His eyes were locked on hers, and her belly fluttered as she watched them shift focus down to her mouth. Which was just a breath away from his. In fact, now that she was aware of it, she could feel said breath on her mouth, and she had a near-overwhelming urge to lean forward just a fraction, to touch her lips to his.
"You guys okay?"
Emma jerked back, halfway aware of Hook doing the same, then tilted her head up to see David leaning over the side of the Jolly Roger.
"We're fine!" she called, telling herself that she was relieved, not disappointed, at the rescue.
Maybe there was a part of her, just a small part, that wondered what it would have been like to have his mouth on hers, to know the feeling of being kissed by a pirate.
From a purely detached point of view, of course.
