Hook looked at the cluster of swans hopelessly. He was assured by Charming and Henry that this would be easy. Easy they said, find a swan they said. Kiss the swan they said. He shook his head.

There were hundreds of them on the swamp bed, nipping at the luscious greens. He had never imagined a swan to have so many colors. There were snow-white ones, light gray ones, silver ones... he shook his head. If he looked any longer he'd chicken out and so he made his way through the muck and grime.

He had never once considered how hard it would be to catch a swan. They had spotted him from a quarter mile away. Some had managed to fly away deeper into the swamp, some just sat there eating. All of them had managed to let out gnarled yelps in swan-language.

The closest one was a dark silver one, and he made attempt to grab it. It didn't challenge him much, just croaked its displeasure. It had never fallen to Hook that some of these birds might be males, but he still eyed it.

"Okay Emma, this is for you." He said, gulping down his pride, which was covered in feathers. His lips pressed against the bird's yellow bill, which managed to squeal even more in displeasure. It fluttered around, the claws on its feet catching him on the arm and scratching deeply. The neck frothed around his hook, nearly strangling itself on the cold iron grasp. He gasped, setting the bird down - more like throwing it - and watched it wither on the ground until it stood up and fluttered away.

"Not Emma." He breathed, frowning. Hook then looked at his arm, there was three long cuts along the hair that bled. Along his mouth line loose feathers hung, making him look awfully like an idiot.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, finding another bird. This one put on more of a fight, maybe because it was to a male, which left deeper gashes down his arm.

The third one he picked up with slight hesitation but never less he picked it up, cradling it around his hook. It didn't give much of a fight as it as it did bite him hard on the lip.

The fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh went the same way.

There were cuts down both arms, and a hole in his jeans. His hair was messed up and hook hung at an odd angle. But the funniest was his mouth. White feathers and swamp-slime hung around his lips. "Anything for Emma," he assured himself. But the words were hung with fear and slight disbelief.

The fear grew stronger until he had finished kissing the 34th bird. There was a glaze in eyes, something that had never streaked the irises, and it was fear. Maybe he'd call in Charming or Henry to finish the job? They loved Emma right? Their kisses would work?

Hesitantly he picked up the next bird. It was snow-white with deep green eyes and held its self in a way that looked bored and smug. It didn't fight, just stared at him in hostility. "Stupid bird," he muttered with irritation. Very slowly he poised his lips towards it and the bird bit him. It took both of its yellow jaws and clamped him hard on the chin.

Hook threw the bird down. "You stupid git of a bird! I've had shipmates that behave better then you! You foul fowl!" He snorted, swearing out the bird. But the bird did not flee from his words, it sat there and, did it roll its eyes at him? Again he snorted, grabbing the bird. "Come on lass, just once."

And he pressed his lips hard to it, and then proceeded to throw it down. He turned his back, snorting. But something caught his eye. It was a tunnel of white that churned around the bird, hiding it from all to see. The other entire swans fluttered away in fear, and only he and the bird stood there.

When the light died down there was Emma, head towards the swamp ground. She was wearing a white gown with her hair curled. She looked up at him, grinning. "Did you like the bite? It was meant for your lip."

He just stood there, memorized by her beauty. There was lightness in his eye as he helped her up. "You've just made me go through hell," he expressed.

She was still grinning, inches from his face. "It was quiet funny." And then there was a shocked gasp from her as his lips fell onto hers. The kiss was hard and filled with desire and she returned it with eagerness.

Moment's later he pulled away. "Lets get this god-awful thing off of you, I never want to see another bird ever again." The words were laid with hunger, as he looked her over, pulling away the swan-feather dress.

And she they danced in the swamp, the birds watching them and the sun on their backs.