She didn't know why she did it. She just knew that she just had to. It's just that simple. Why should she have to explain this to anyone?

"Emma, let me see." He reached for her shoulder which she clutched it in her own hand painfully. Without a word she jerked her arm away from the concerned Killian Jones, causing a wave of pain to rush through her injured limb. "Let me see it, love."

He reached for her again and she obliged to his outstretched hand. Not because she wanted him to touch her- no, that's ridiculous. She just knew if she jerked away it would hurt again. That's all.

They'd reached camp before the others; separated from the group after an unexpected attack by the Lost Boys.

He rolled her short sleeve up her arm further to reveal a deep cut along the muscle of her upper left shoulder.

"It's deeper than I thought." said Hook, prodding the wound causing her to wince again. She tried not to take his words another way, but she needed any sort of distraction from the pain. "What were you thinking?"

There it was. The question. The one she really didn't want to answer nor did she have an answer for it.

"I don't know"

"Oh, don't do that. What would possess you to jump in front of that Lost Boy's sword?" She sighed deeply

"I don't know." she mumbled again.

"Emma," He gazed at her with those deep ocean blue eyes, making her wish that they didn't have the effect they do on her. She looked away, calming her breathing. From the pain. It hurts. That's why she can't breath. The only reason why.

"That 'Lost Boy's sword' was heading right towards you." she finally released.

"And you felt the need to use your body to aid me?" Again she tried avoid the second meaning to his words. Unsuccessfully.

"It seemed the only probable way at the time."

He scoffed at her. "Darling, I'd love to see the other ways your body can aid me but I prefer it to be safe." She shivered slightly at his words. So he had heard the double meaning also...

Her mind raced for a way to respond smoothly. "Yeah, well..." Shit those eyes. "Shut up."

"Nice."

She rolled her eyes silently as he rummaged around the campsite.

"What are you doing?" she asked annoyed, still clutching her bleeding wound.

"Looking for my pack. I have a needle and thread in there somewhere." he said over his shoulder, throwing stuff around in his search.

She swallowed loudly. "Needle and thread?"

"Yes. For your cut." Shit.

"I don't think it needs stitches." she said quietly.

"Don't fret love, you can hold my hook the whole time." He said with a quick wink causing her heart beat to stutter slightly. He walked back towards her with his pack and a bottle of-you guessed it- rum. Shock.

"No. I'm fine."

"Good. Cause this will hurt." He swiftly poured the rum over her wound while she stifled a gasp. The alcohol burned thoroughly across her skin. He plunged the needle in and out of her skin with precision that could only be gained through practice.

"Not your first sewing is it?" she said with a fake laugh.

"Not your first wound, is it?" he said back quickly glancing at a scar on her chest. She noticed his gaze on her chest quite often actually...

"Maybe not."

"Maybe not." He gazed at her, not paying attention to the point that dipped over her cut. He didn't need to really, he was good at it. She barely noticed the little pricks of pain that came with the needle when she was staring into his eyes. His eyes could put the stars to shame when he get's that mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Thank you." he said, cutting the end of the string with his teeth once he was finished. He tied it off and turned his attention to her again.

"For...?"

"Saving my life."

She rolled her eyes. "It wouldn't have killed you."

"It could've. I wasn't paying attention. I was fighting another boy and my back was turned to him. I should've been watching. I should've-"

"Shut up."

"But-"

"Stop. Now. I was the idiot who jumped in front of a blade." she tried to laugh away the seriousness in the conversation but he wouldn't have it.

"To save me." She stared at him not sure how to respond.

The moment was quiet and she couldn't stand the intimacy of the dialogue. She hated it but she loved it. He cared for her-that she knew-but seeing him realize she may care for him; that was just unbelievable. She could see in his face how flattered he was that she put her life on the line for him.

After what seemed like an eternity of staring into his eyes-green meeting blue- she spoke. "I suppose."

"Thank you."

"You said that already."

"It's called gratitude."

"Well, I guess it was my pleasure." she regretted the word instantly.

His eyes lit on fire when she spoke the last word, a mischievous look on his face.

He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off.

"-don't."

He shut his mouth, a grim smirk on his face.

He was quiet for a while until she spoke, the mischievous look now on her face, making his heart pump audibly.

"Is that all your life is worth to you?" she smiled devilishly at him. He couldn't believe it. His (almost) words switched around on him.

He leaned in closer, their noses brushing. "I can handle it." he whispered.

He slowly caressed his lips across hers, lighting her heart on fire. She kissed him back gently at first, then fiercely. He twisted his hand into her hair and tilted her head back to access her neck. He had imagined what it felt like to press his lips to the creamy skin of her neck so many times before. How it actually felt-he never found out.

"What the-" David and Mary-Margaret burst into the campsite through the bushes before Hook could fulfill his fantasies, a murderously confused look displayed across the Prince's face.

"David," Mary-Margaret tugged on her husband's arm, "Let's go get fire wood." They exited the area, David glancing over his shoulder threateningly, giving Killian a warning with expression- Hurt her, I hurt you.

She turned to him and said the words that explained the whole situation.

"Well, Shit."