Hook shouldered the empty pack. Snow White gave him a freshly filled canteen of water.

"Are you sure about this?" she said. "We can go with you."

Hook shook his head. "This is one of Pan's favorite tricks. It's not just a thunderstorm. You'll be swept away in the winds and deposited all over the island. It would take us weeks to find each other."

Regina's arms were folded as she frowned at him across the recently doused fire. "And we're just supposed to believe that your little cave will protect us?"

"Baelfire and I built it during our brief time together. We weathered one of his thunderstorms in it before. It should do it again."

"But what about you?" Snow pressed.

Hook held up a hand. "Swan and I will be safe on my ship. One of the perks of living in a vessel made of enchanted wood, love. She's seen worse things than this."

"I can only imagine," Regina muttered. She left the group and disappeared into her tent.

Charming was all gruff and frowns. He joined Snow, arms also crossed. "I don't like it. I think I should go back to Emma. He can take you to the cave."

Hook rolled his eyes. "That's great, mate. And when my home starts spinning off into the great unknown, I can trust you to set her right again."

"I thought you said you'd be safe," Charming said.

"Safe, yes. Stationary, on the other hand, is unlikely. I can get us through, but I need to return to my ship. Besides, Emma needs somebody. She has no idea what's coming."

"I don't like the sound of that." Charming backed Hook against a tree. Hook smirked, but Charming ignored him. He held there, with a sword resting in his hand like it loved being there. "If you so much as look at my daughter," he rested the tip against his prickly throat, "she'll be the last woman you ever ogle. Understand, pirate?"

"Understood, your highness." It was supposed to be snarky, but the title felt heavy when he said. A flashback to old times. Old ways.

It must have felt the same to the prince. His face adopted a smug little smile and stood taller. Although he let Hook go and he sheathed his sword, he still looked angry. "I expect you to do what it takes to protect the princess."

Charming left, Hook glaring at his retreating form. Protect the princess. He didn't like these reminders about their other lives. It distanced certain people—especially him.

Snow put a hand on his arm. "Hey," she whispered, "be careful, okay?"

Hook mustered enough control not to roll his eyes at the queen. "I swear, m'lady, I'll not hurt your daughter."

"I was talking about you."

Hook stopped.

Snow smiled and touched his arm one last time as she passed him. "Take care, Captain."

Leaving them to the rest of their packing, Hook entered the jungle. The map he gave them was good; they'd arrive at the sheltering cave in little over an hour. It would take him longer to reach the bay docking the Roger, but Pan's storm was still a while off yet.

As Hook stepped around trees and over roots, his lips lifted in a smile.

So perhaps he overplayed the danger just a bit. While it was true the winds would scatter them terribly if they were caught in the open, it was unlikely they would carry the ship off. Charming probably could have managed just fine.

But how could Hook be expected to pass up a chance to spend some time with Emma, alone on the Roger? He'd risked many things to come here with them. Wasn't he entitled to a few fond memories?

When Hook emerged from the jungle a few hours later, his arm hurt from swinging his cutlass and sweat dripped into his eyes.

I forgot how bloody hot it is here.

He wiped the water from his forehead with the back of his coat cuff. Ahead bobbed the Roger. He'd found a beautiful bay to weigh anchor. He leaned against a young palm tree, taking a swig of rum as he enjoyed the view. Framed like this, he could almost picture he was back in the realms, sailing and exploring new lands to his heart's content.

What would their lives had been like if they remained in the Enchanted Forest? It's likely he and Swan would never meet. His lips lifted in a smile again. Or perhaps, they would. Perhaps the protocol and duties would be too much for his fiery Swan, and one moon-lit night she would have run to the sea.

He quite liked the sound of that.

Of course, her parents would send search parties, and he'd be arrested for kidnapping the princess, thrown in the dungeon to rot or perhaps hanged. That didn't sound pleasant. To be honest, he'd developed a certain eye-rolling fondness for the queen. And her insufferable prince.

All in all, perhaps it was best they had all met under these strange circumstances.

Hook capped his canteen. The pack, though empty on his back and waiting to be replenished from the ship's stock, pulled against his throat. He'd be glad to sit down with Emma.

He smiled as he approached the beach. Honey, I'm home.

"Swan? Where are you, love?" When she didn't answer, he groaned. He quickened his pace. "You're not up in the rigging again, are you? I told you to be careful you don't hang yourself—"

Something bobbed beneath the still surface of the water.

Hook's heart seized and his boots stopped. His voice was hoarse when he called, "Swan?"

The surface broke. He saw a floating body, face down, with long blonde hair.

"SWAN!" Hook dropped everything. He ran to her. As he went he threw off the pack, threw off the belt that held up his sword. With only a few feet to go, the body submerged again. "No!"

Hook dove. Head first. He didn't know how deep the water was. He hit the water in a crash that angered the surface into a cloud of dissolving bubbles. They tickled his face as they rose. He blinked through them, looking for the body.

Something floated in front of his face—perhaps a leg. It was hard to see in the dark water. He shrugged off his coat and grabbed for it. To his surprise, the body fought back. His leather coat sunk to the bottom of the bay as he fought to bring the body back to the surface.

"It's okay!" Hook shouted once they'd cleared the surface. "Just relax! Everything will be okay."

Emma was sputtering. It sounded like "Hook!" but he couldn't be sure over the noise of all her splashing. Hook drug her from the water and dropped her onto the beach. He straddled her, on his hands and knees above her as he prepared to resuscitate her.

"Hook!"

It finally dawned on him that she was not unconscious. Her eyes were open and she was breathing just fine—except for the effects of their rather uncoordinated exit from the bay.

"What in heaven's name is your problem!"

Hook was hovering above her, hands planted on either side of her head and knees in the sand on either side of her legs. His eyes were wide as they stared at her, and his chest heaved. Water droplets dripped from his hair, down his nose like a ski ramp, where they splashed onto her cheeks.

Emma couldn't help a second look at his eyes—so close and wide and unbelievably green. Like pieces of the sky on a stormy day. She glanced over his shoulder at the clouds above, half expecting to see two white holes where his eyes had been cut from.

He was calmer, now. He swallowed his breathing down a notch. "I thought you were drowning," he said, still confused.

Emma laughed. "No, silly. I was floating."

"Floating?"

Oh my gosh, his voice just cracked. It was probably the most adorable noise she'd ever heard him make.

"Yeah, you know. Superman style?"

Hook's eyebrows knitted together.

"I was looking at the bay!"

Relief passed over his face. He rolled his weight back closer to his haunches, though his hands remained on either side of her head and his face hovered above hers.

"Floating?" he repeated. He hitched an eyebrow, dipping his head towards her chest to shake it. His shoulders bounced as he started laughing. When he lifted his head, his hair sprinkled water across her face. Hook pinned her with bright, flashing eyes. "You owe me for this, Swan."

"I didn't do anything!" Emma protested. She laughed again. "You're the one that overreacted. Look at you! Your leather is soaked."

"I was worried about you. And the leather has been wet before."

"You should let it dry in the sun."

And then, before Emma Swan could think about what she was doing, her fingers worked the buttons of the red vest layered over his shirt. Hook froze like a deer suddenly illuminated by a car turning a corner. It was practically written across his face—Run or stay?

Emma unbuttoned his vest and slipped it off his shoulders. Hook lifted each hand to step out of it, and then Emma tossed it with a strong wrist flick into the dry sand further up the beach.

His eyes twinkled and his lips twisted in a smirk. "That's not leather, love."

"Yeah, well, this is." Emma's fingers worked the—frankly—ginormous leather belt he wore just under his ribcage. It was at least four inches thick and rather hard to pull through the head, but Hook seemed in no hurry. Emma finally pulled the end free and slipped it away from his chest. She tossed it towards the vest.

"There." Emma said.

She unbuckled the smaller strap across his chest that held his canteen holster. (Yes, he actually had a dedicated canteen holster. Pirates.) She pulled away his scarf and slid the bulky rings off his good hand, his shoulders twitching when her fingers ran down the sensitive skin between his own.

That was definitely enough of that. He was close and she was starting to pick up on his body heat. She tried to sit up, but he didn't move.

Hook chided, voice low and rumbling. "I believe you owe me some assistance yet."

His necklaces swung out from his shirt. They suspended over Emma's nose about four inches. A bronze cross and a compass, among them. She couldn't make out the others.

Emma swallowed. She was not afraid of him, or his stupid little smile. Now was the time to prove it.

"Fine."

She reached her arms behind his head and felt for the clasps. One by one, she unhooked them and removed them from his neck. They joined the rings and belts in a pile in the soft sand. The only remaining charm was an old tarnished coin pierced through with a leather cord, but he put his hand over hers to say she should leave it.

"I'm feeling a bit chilled, love," Hook said. "Perhaps it's this damp shirt."

Her eyes rolled. "Of course it is."

Emma did an ab crunch and lifted her head parallel to his. She took hold of the bottom of his shirt and helped it over his shoulders. His head popped out of the fabric, another spray of tiny water droplets from his hair spattering her face. She worked it down over his arms. Again he lifted his hands one at a time to lose the fabric. This time he took the shirt and tossed it at the pile.

He was definitely not looking at the clothes.

Emma swallowed for the third time. This. This was not good.

He dropped a little closer, and Emma felt herself pushing back into the sand. She put her hands to his chest to stop him, then jerked away as soon as she remembered it was all skin there. He dropped his head farther and brushed his lips to hers.

"Hook," Emma warned.

His only answer was a mumbled, "I'm resuscitating you" as he came down lower to give her a slow, careful kiss. He opened his eyes when he was done. He smiled when he caught her eyes opening too. Alarm bells went off in her head and she felt so alive when he dropped his mouth to her ear to whisper, "Saved your life, princess."

Emma kissed his cheek. "Thank you, captain."

The water in the bay had calmed. The tiny waves stretched towards them as Emma twisted her head to the side, making sure his clothes were dry. And then—"Hey, what happened to your coat?"

Hook dropped his head and groaned. "Blast it all . . ."

She laughed. He run back down the beach and into the water. When he returned, he was gasping. "Lands, this is heavy. Help me."

Emma waded in to her ankles and helped him by dragging it ashore. She'd just tossed it away and was turning to help him up when he yanked on her wrist. With a yelp, Emma fell backwards into the water. Hook was waiting for her below the surface. He wrapped his legs around hers, held her tight as they sunk. He used his hooked arm to pin her arms to her side and tickled her stomach with his fingers.

Apparently, Emma Swan was really ticklish.

She writhed in his hold, gasping and loosing air.

This would be far more fun than he imagine.

A stream of bubbles came from her mouth, accompanied by a sound that could have been "Hook!" He didn't stop. He held her tighter and traced light circles on her sensitive, twitching tummy.

He heard a watery plea of, "Stop, please!" and kicked to the surface. They tossed their heads back. Hook still held her close as he treaded water.

Emma twisted her neck. "Don't ever do that—"

But Hook was already smiling. "Deep breath, love."

"No—"

Hook pulled them back under. He took her all the way to the bottom of the bay, hand pressed over her eyes she couldn't see where they were going. When he was ready, he pushed her away and disappeared behind some kelp.

Emma righted herself in the water, looking for him. She kicked towards the bottom of the Roger. She peaked under the boat as if he was waiting for her on the other side. When she found nothing, she swam along the rock wall of the island, peering behind boulders. She missed his patch of kelp and floated past him not five inches away.

Hook smiled. Feeling like a shark having fun with its food, he had only to kick a few times before his legs overtook her pace. He passed above her while she searched the bottom of the bay. He reached down and danced his fingertips up her spine. She flinched.

Emma flipped over and swatted at his hand, but he still snuck it down under her arm. She threw her head back as his fingers wiggled against her skin. Goodness sakes, she nearly split her head open on a rock. He had to catch it with his arm. When she was sensible again, he darted away. She gave chase with a passion.

He rounded a corner in the island base and ducked behind a large rock. When Emma appeared, he snaked out his hook and reeled her in.

Right into my trap, little fish.

His arms grabbed her like an octopus. He turned her so she faced the rock wall and pinned her there. He tortured her tummy, tracing circles so light her head rolled about her shoulders like she was a thing possessed. The halter top she wore floated up a little at the hem, giving him wide access.

Hook smiled at a cruel idea.

He worked her up to a desperate frenzy, and then he stuck the tip of his forefinger into her bellybutton. He waited for her to gasp, wanted her to anticipate the torment coming, and then he dug.

Emma snorted. Hook had to be mindful how much air she let out. But he wasn't finished punishing her for scaring him. She writhed at his touch. She bucked against him. Her toes pointed down, sliding down the skin of his shins as they scrambled for purchase. Her shoulders pressed into his chest and her neck stretched as she rolled her head up over his shoulder. She actually lifted her tummy closer to his finger. He couldn't have asked for a better opening.

Hook dropped his chin over her shoulder, keeping her close. He slid the smooth part of his hook's curve under her throat, keeping her chin raised and tilted back so that her neck remained exposed. Hook pressed kisses from her shoulder to her ear while his fingertip worked her bellybutton.

Emma's whole body shuddered. Hook wasn't nearly finished with her yet, but she started choking.

Time to go.

Hook adjusted his grip on her to prepare for their rapid ascent. Emma shifted the wrong way, though, and his hook tip sliced a long line across her stomach. Emma winced. Like he'd touched a fire, Hook pulled his arms away. He stared at the red blood curling through the water.

They were bleeding in the waters of Neverland.

There was no worse fate.

Hook grabbed her waist and pushed her up. She swam for the surface as he was carried to the bottom by the momentum of his throw. The sand pressed against his feet at the bottom of the bay, and he pushed off. She broke the surface first, then him moments later.

They treaded water. Hook looked over his shoulder and nearly panicked at how far the shore was. How had they gotten so far?

We must get out of the water, his mind screamed.

Neverland was no place for such horseplay. He knew better. Lands, what was he thinking?

"Let's go!" Hook ordered. He grabbed her hand and together they pushed for the shore. Was it his imagination, or did he feel the water begin to stir with tiny vibrations at their feet?

When they were within striking distance of the shore, Hook glanced over his shoulder. His heart stopped cold. It was a fin, slicing towards them much faster than they fled it.

Hook pulled Emma's arm until she was abreast of him, then he held her waist again and shoved her forward with all the force he could muster. It was enough to get her into standing water moments later. She scrambled to her feet, then turned to find him.

Hook opened is mouth to call out that he was fine. Then he felt a million teeth pierce the flesh of his ankle. He jerked to a stop, and then the creature pulled him backwards. The water shot up his pant legs backwards.

"HOOK!" Emma shouted, reaching for his hand.

"Stay out of the water!" he cried. The thing dove, taking him with it, and the water passed over his lips to cut him off.

Hook opened his eyes under the water to see his attacker. A shark, six feet long. Moderate size for Neverland, but respectable nonetheless.

All the more since it had his foot in its mouth.

The shark let go, and Hook swam for the surface, even though he knew his chances. He was right—the shark snapped his other foot. He cried out into the water. Sharks came to a fight equipped with rows upon rows of teeth. He felt every one of them cut his flesh.

Something above him splashed. Human legs. The shark let go of him and cut the water like a blade.

No.

His throat cinched tighter as lightness filled his head. He clawed at the water. He couldn't tell if he was rising or sinking.

The legs disappeared, the shark turned back towards him. Hook had never known such fear as when he saw its eye drawing closer.

Another splash, and the legs were back.

That blasted woman would keep this up just to spite him until he reached the surface, he realized.

Hook pushed, even though it hurt every time water passed his ankles. Emma had drawn the beast aways down shore, so he at last he climbed onto the sand in peace. He rolled onto his back and groaned.

Emma ran to him. She dropped to her knees in the sand. Now she hovered on top of him. Despite the pain, the irony was not lost to him.

Emma pushed wet hair over her shoulder. "How bad?"

"Ankles," Hook managed between pressed teeth.

Emma held his foot several inches above the injury and studied them. "Please tell me you have something for this on the ship."

"Aye." Hook looked over her shoulder. The gangplank was many yards away. He dropped his head into the sand. "As soon as I figure out how to get from here to there. I have to admit, this was not how I pictured spending the evening with you."

"Which reminds me." Emma thumped him on the chest.

He winced. "Bloody lands, Emma! I was just bitten by a shark."

"That was for down there, scoundrel."

Hook winked at her. "Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it." But then the smile was gone when he dropped his head back and groaned.

"You are incorrigible. Hang on."

Emma managed to pull him onto her back. He clasped his own wrists just below her throat as they shuffled towards the gangplank.

Hook peered over her shoulder at the water shifting below them. "Don't fall in."

"No kidding."

By now, Emma felt like she knew the ship's interior as well as her own Volkswagen. She took him to his quarters and set him in the desk chair.

Hook looked at the bed. "I'd rather—"

"Just give me a minute." Emma stepped into the captain's bath, where she found towels to dry him with. He smiled as she worked.

"Enjoying yourself, lass?"

Emma didn't look at any particular area of him for very long. Suddenly it felt ridiculous, him half-dressed and dripping wet. She was drying off his legs with his bath towels, for crying out loud. What would her parents think?

She got him into the bed and pulled the covers away so she could get at his feet. His medical kit had—thankfully—been updated with modern medicine upon his arrival to Storybrooke. What blessed soul thought that far ahead, she didn't know, but she felt grateful.

Emma paused with the antiseptic bottle in her hands. "This is going to hurt."

Hook reached for her free hand, and she gave it to him. When she poured the liquid onto the bites, he crushed her fingers and lurched upright.

"Bloody tarnation, woman, are you trying to kill me?"

"Don't be such a baby." Emma made no effort to hide her smile. "This is payback."

He muttered, "I'll show you payback," and swiped for her arm, but she moved out of reach. She returned with cloth bandages.

"I'm going to wrap your ankles." She sat on the edge of the bed. "Ready?"

Hook bit his lip and nodded. He pressed his eyes shut.

They sat in silence while Emma began the wrap. After she'd gone around the torn flesh once, she said, "So why are you back here? It's not time to change the ship guard for another two days."

"Pan is releasing a storm tonight," he said. He cracked an eye open to watch her progress. "Those not sheltered in secure housing will be picked up by the winds and scattered about the island. It could take us weeks to find each other."

Emma stopped. "So where are—"

"Everyone is safe," Hook said. "I came back here to be with you."

Emma glanced at him. He was waiting for her reaction, but she let it go without remark, choosing instead to concentrate on tucking the bandage ends into the layers.

She sighed when she was finished. "Well, looks like you'll have to talk me through whatever needs done. You shouldn't stand tonight." Emma pulled the covers up over him. "I have to go get your things. I'll be back."

"No." He caught her hand. "The storm is coming soon. Stay here."

"What, we had time to horseplay in the Neverland lagoon full of sharks, but I don't have time to step outside and get your stuff?" Emma raised an eyebrow. "I'll be right back."

The left corner of his lips twisted upwards, and it was so, so dangerous. "You liked that, did you? I had no idea you were so . . . sensitive."

"Just wait until I get my revenge. Then maybe you won't be so satisfied with yourself."

Hook chuckled from the back of his throat. "I look forward to it."

Author's note: I may or may not take time to add another part to this. I have two other active CS stories and a third I'm pondering, so the jury is still out. I'm marking it "Complete" just to be safe.