fire under her skin
It happens during their fourth day on Neverland.
The Lost Boys ambush them at midday, shooting off poison arrows and wielding wicked lances. Emma finds herself fighting them alongside David, the strikes of her cutlass brutal and with little finesse. Regina and Rumplestilkskin wield their magic effortlessly, taking out the brunt of their assailants, while Mary Margaret brings up the rear, her arrows flying swift and true.
Out of the corner of her eye, Emma spots a flash of metal.
Leaving David to finish off the last of the Lost Boys circling them, Emma turns her attention to it. Her blood runs cold at the sight.
Hook is simultaneously fighting off four Lost Boys at a time, and is visibly exhausted, his movements becoming slow and ragged.
One slip is all it takes.
Felix raises his spear, the tip glinting dangerously with poison; a sneer on his lips. "Goodbye, Captain."
Emma doesn't think. She simply acts.
The cutlass falls from her hand and suddenly she can feel magic, coursing through her body, making her feel like she's being thrust into a burning fire and doused with ice water at the same time.
"Hook!"
Emma gives a twist of her wrist and suddenly, the weapons of the Lost Boys turn to dust. They look down at their hands, bewildered, and then another blast of magic renders them unconscious; courtesy of Regina.
Emma slowly glances at the other woman, who looks grudgingly impressed.
"Nice work," Is all Regina says before she abruptly turns and walks back to the camp.
Emma looks around at everyone else. The smirk on Gold's face is far too knowing and calculating for Emma's comfort. Her parents look worried and proud in the same way only parents are capable of. Neal's expression probably stings the most; he's looking at her with a mixture of fear and disgust.
She purposefully avoids Hook's gaze.
Neal's voice is wary when he speaks. "Was that-was that your magic?"
"Got a problem with that?" Emma asks icily. Neal flinches, but wisely keeps his mouth shut, instead joining the others as they walk back to the camp.
Emma makes to follow them, but is stopped by a warm hand on her shoulder.
A shiver wracks through her body at Hook's gentle touch. The magic in her soul is already coursing through her veins, sizzling under her skin and heightens every sense in her body. Hook's touch is light, but it causes her heart to pound and her magic to hum…hum in satisfaction.
Emma turns to him and tries to keep the flush from her cheeks at his proximity. "What?" She asks, her voice brusque.
Hook gives her a soft smile, filled with gratitude and affection. "Thank you, love."
Emma's magic sings, fire scorching though her veins, the effect leaving her light headed and dizzy. She has to move away, now, before she does something stupid.
Like kiss him.
Yeah, that would be pretty stupid.
"You're welcome," Emma breathes, inwardly fighting a war with her instincts. Her mind warns her to back away, to end this before it starts; but her heart urges her to touch him, to kiss him like she had only a few days ago, to obey the wishes of her magic, which seems to delight in his presence for whatever reason.
"Swan, are you alright?" Hook scans her worriedly, seemingly unaware of the less than decent thoughts searing through her mind. "You seem flushed."
Emma's blush only deepens at his words.
"I'm fine," She says curtly, spinning on her heel and walking away.
Yeah, she should definitely stay away from him.
(Easier said than done.)
By the time night falls, Emma has calmed down considerably, her magic a now a soothing hum under her skin and her heart slowing down to its normal rate.
Emma glances around the camp. David and Mary Margaret are curled up together, already fast asleep, Regina is brooding in a corner, Neal and Gold are talking quietly and Hook….
Hook isn't there.
Emma hesitates for a moment.
Going after him is a bad idea, quite possibly even worse than her kissing him before. She might have come down from her high now, but there's no telling if her magic will begin to act up again like before.
It's a really, really bad idea.
But she's tired of not listening to her instincts, damn it.
Five minutes later, Emma is making her way out of camp and following the tracks Hook left.
She finds him in a small clearing, leaning against a tree, his eyes half shut as he tilts his flask to his mouth.
Hook stills at the sound of her footsteps, stiffening momentarily before he raises a brow at her, smiling wryly. "Looking for some company, love?"
Emma automatically rolls her eyes and shuffles closer. "I was wondering where you were," She mumbles, and his grin grows wider. Ignoring his damned smugness, Emma holds her hand out expectantly for his flask. Hook lets out a long, exaggerated sigh but relinquishes it with no further protest.
Before she can drink from it, however, Emma pauses, noticing that there's a long, jagged cut stretching over his hand; inching close to his wrist. "You're hurt."
Hook glances at it carelessly. "It's nothing, lass," He says dismissively and Emma scoffs a little.
"Yeah, right," Setting down the flask on a tree stump, Emma moves closer and takes his hand in hers, ignoring his sharp intake of breath as she does so, and the flames that ignite under her skin at the simple touch.
"I can-"She pauses hesitantly, glancing up at him. "I can try and heal it. With my magic, I mean," Fidgeting under the heat of his gaze, Emma focuses her attention on the wound. "I'll try, I just-I don't want to accidentally turn you into a toad or something."
Hook chuckles then, the sound low and husky. "I trust you," He says quietly and Emma's heart pounds rapidly, not because of her magic this time, but because of something else entirely.
"Alright." Emma breathes in deeply and cautiously moves her right hand over the cut, squeezing her eyes shut. She can feel her magic begin to rise, and white stars burn behind her eyes and there's a whoosh and brief, pure moment where she honestly feels like she's floating.
Opening her eyes, a genuine grin stretches across Emma's face when she sees that the wound has been healed completely, not even a trace of a scar left behind. She looks up at Hook and he's smiling, too, awe and wonder in his eyes.
"That's bloody brilliant, love," He praises and Emma blushes hotly, pulling away and taking a step back. Hook frowns, then.
"You're doing it again," He points out. "You're backing away. You did it right after you saved me, too."
Emma squirms a little, unable to form a reply. She can't just up and say, Yeah, well, using my magic around you makes me super high and makes me want to kiss you. That's it, no big deal.
"Swan?" Hook prods again, and she sighs loudly, wrapping her arms around herself.
"My magic likes you," She mutters and he blinks in utter confusion.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me," Emma snaps, her face red. "My magic likes you for some goddamned reason and it makes me want to do crazy things when I'm around you and-"
"Crazy things?" There's an obnoxious grin on his face now, and Emma wants to slap it off. Or kiss it off. Whichever comes first. "Like what?"
"Like kissing you," Emma says bluntly and Hook's jaw drops, clearly not expecting her to be so frank. "And more," She adds meaningfully, and he actually blushes.
She has to fight back the smile that threatens to rise at that.
"Well, um," Hook coughs and scratches behind his ear in a nervous tick Emma's come to recognize. "Uh, that's-"
"Relax, I'm not going to going to jump you right here," Emma says with a roll of her eyes. Hook tries to smirk at her, but fails miserably.
"I wouldn't complain if you did, love," He says, but it's hard to take him seriously when his cheeks are bright red.
"I'm sure you wouldn't," Emma mutters. "Come on, let's get back to camp."
"Emma, wait," Hook stops her and she almost gasps when he suddenly takes her hand in his. She's about to ask him what the hell he wants, or pull away, or something; but then he suddenly raises her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss against the sensitive skin of her wrist, shutting his eyes.
She almost sinks into him, pleasure sizzling in her veins at the touch, a shudder wracking through her body. Hook opens his eyes lazily and meets her gaze and Emma groans when he suddenly pulls away, stepping away from her; his face full of mischief.
"We should be getting back, love," Hook drawls and begins to walk away. Emma stares after him, gaping in outrage, his kiss branded into her skin.
Bastard!
Two can play at this game, she thinks and hurries after him, determined to finish what they started.
She's playing with fire, but then so is he, and to hell with the consequences.
She's definitely not done with him.
"You're going to have to choose, Emma."
And somewhere in her heart, Emma knows she's already chosen.