The Runaway

Rating: T

Summary: Every few months it was the same. They'd get notice that the rebellious princess had once again fled the palace, and every time he'd rescue her. It was torture.

The ship creaked and swayed with the rolling of the tides, but the princess glided across the captain's quarters as if she had been born at sea. And she should. This wasn't her first time aboard The Jewel, a detail that Lieutenant Jones was all too familiar with over the past year. Her pale blue dress (a bit tattered at the edges and worn) slid along the smooth, wooden floor as she walked towards the porthole, stretching on her tip-toes to peer out, looking all innocence and elegance – a ruse that he would be much more inclined to fall for if he didn't personally know any better. It was then that he finally cleared his throat loudly (positive that she had been well aware that he had been standing in the doorway for some time now), knowing that if he watched her pretending to be alone in that little room for much longer that this little visit would turn into something entirely different, something that he'd thought about far more than was proper for a Lieutenant to a princess.

Her dress spun around her ankles as she whirled towards the sound, her expression full of mock-surprise. "Oh, Lieutenant, forgive me. I didn't realize that you were there," she offered innocently with a slight curtsey.

He nodded curtly, swallowing hard. "Of course you didn't, love," a sarcastic voice in his head retorted, but the Lieutenant in him simply said, "Princess," bowing his head a bit as to avoid looking her in the eye – she wasn't the only one who could put on false airs of professionalism. "I've come to inform you that the winds have been greatly in our favor on the trip home. We'll be making port shortly before dawn." He wanted to wait for her acknowledgement and leave it at that, he wanted to turn on his heel and walk out of the room and tell Liam that he had done as he had been told, but he found himself stuck to the spot, staring holes into the floorboards, daring to look into her green eyes only after a painfully long moment. "…I trust you are well?"

She smiled, and he swore he saw a brief glimmer of triumph in that smile as she let herself fall into a large, plush lounge that sat in one of the corners of the room. "Very well, thanks to my rescuer," she teased in a light, airy tone, reclining against the back lazily, letting her arms float up above her head and crossing lightly at the wrists, her dress slipping up her leg just enough to expose a hint of her calf.

His breath caught at the sensual display and for a moment, he couldn't remember what the professional thing to say was anymore. He couldn't think of anything to say. How could he? He was too busy remembering what it felt like to be sprawled atop her, sweating, wanton, kissing her neck, letting his two hands roam freely over her smooth, pale skin, remembering every moan, every gasp that he elicited from her (her voice so different than the 'polite princess' one that she put on now), remembering how he couldn't have her again – and it was bloody torture.

"You can't keep doing this, Emma."

She glanced back at him, quirking a playful eyebrow, pleased that he had finally called her by her name and taking the defeat in his tone as another triumph. "Doing what? Shirking my duties as a princess? Does Lieutenant Stick-In-The-Mud Jones disprove of my rebellion?" She went on with a roll of her eyes.

"Running off like this. Putting yourself into danger," he scolded, more gruffly than he had intended, fist curling at his side. "The King and Queen-"

"The King and Queen have a remarkably reliable navy at their command that seem perfectly capable of-"

"Why do you keep doing this?" To me. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air like a thick fog that surrounded them.

"Because I know you'll rescue me."

"And why do you want us to rescue you, Princess?"

She sighed, tipping her head back as if in impatience. "Do you really need to ask, Killian?"

"I… It's Lieutenant Jones."

His stuttering correction seemed to only egg her on further. "So commanding about your name, aren't we, Lieutenant? One night you're just begging me to say 'Killian' and the next it's 'Lieutenant Jones'. It's not polite to send such mixed signals," she retorted primly, clucking her tongue.

Killian swallowed hard, gritting his teeth so tightly together that it pained his jaw, finding himself growing more and more frustrated with every smirk she cast his way. Damn the woman for being able to get to him like this, damn this proper princess act, damn her!

"I wasn't- Gods, Emma, I wasn't aware at the time that you were the bloody princess," he hissed, careful to keep his voice low. "You were- I was- I could be stripped of my rank, hells, I could be hanged for this should anyone find out! What would my brother-"

"And yet you still come to my room on the long voyage back to my parents' realm, rather than your brother…"

There it was. The straw that broke the camel's back. Of course he came to her, what choice did he have? She'd gotten under his skin, seduced him like a siren and then refused to leave him to his misery. He had been naive and happy to merely sail the seas with Liam before he had met her and now he was under her spell. All thoughts of propriety left him as he finally allowed the anger of the past year, the temptation, the teasing, the nagging irritation that kept bubbling below the surface every time they were sent to retrieve the impudent, runaway princess begin to rise.

"Why do you do this? Is it to torture me? Is it to make me lose my military bearing? To get me to bloody admit that I haven't gone a day without thinking of you since those two nights at port ten months ago? God damn it, Emma! Just tell me what you want from me!"

Emma looked as if she'd been slapped in the face, his anger lashing out at her like the bite of a whip – it wasn't often that a princess was spoken to like this, and now, looking into his pained expression, she felt ashamed of all the teasing. She truly wasn't as smug as she had been playing herself off as, she wasn't so confident that she'd roll her eyes and tell him to leave her presence and return when they've arrived like another might. This was a game that she had been determined not to lose, she had been determined not to break first. If she did… She wouldn't allow herself to be seen as so vulnerable, but now, having sentenced him to the same fate, she felt only guilt.

Suddenly, Killian felt like he may have gone too far. He had formed the words to say as much when she spoke.

"Maybe I don't like being a princess," she began slowly, drawing circles into the lounge with her finger, staring at it for a moment before looking up into his burning gaze, sitting up, her voice becoming stronger. "Maybe I feel more at home among the farmers and at the taverns chatting up sailors than with the castle guards or stuffy noblemen who want nothing more than my hand in marriage," she paused, lifting her eyes, only sincerity left there as she dropped her voice to a whisper. "Maybe those two nights meant something to me and I just want to see you, Killian."

A sharp knock at the door interrupted them, followed by a creak as it swung open. "Princess," Liam nodded cordially. "Lieutenant Jones, I need you on the main deck. I trust you've told the Princess the news?"

"Aye, Captain," he replied quickly, shooting a wary glance at Emma before looking back at his brother. "I'll be up in a moment, brother."

"I'll need you now, Lieutenant, the winds are picking up too quickly for my liking."

Killian took a deep breath, nodding once to his brother, then once to Emma, casting her a soft, apologetic look before making a move to follow his captain. "Princess," he managed, aching knowing that it was likely the only goodbye he'd get, knowing that by the time they'd reached her kingdom that she'd be surrounded by crew members and guards and servants that would escort her back to her castle.

"Until next time, Lieutenant Jones."

He finally allowed himself to smile, a quiet chuckle rumbling from his chest. "Until next time, Princess."

End

A/n: This is a oneshot, but I'm considering writing a smutty prequel about those two nights. Yes? ;)