"Well, this is moving quickly. Shouldn't I buy you dinner first?" The cheeky grin didn't leave Hook's face as he wandered unhurried around Emma's apartment, not waiting for her to show him around. He ran the dull curve of his hook across the wooden counters and other furniture, carefully inspecting every nook and cranny, much to her annoyance.

"This is not a friendly invitation, Hook," Emma replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "You've proven that you clearly can't be trusted after that whole New York fiasco, and unfortunately, as the sheriff, I have to keep an eye on you. For your safety and Gold's."

"Or maybe you just want to keep an eye on me," he suggested playfully. "I'm warning you now, Emma," he glanced back at her pointedly before continuing. "Now that we're living together, soon just your eyes on me won't be enough."

"In your dreams, Hook," she said, rolling her eyes and reluctantly following him around her new place.

"I hope so." He stated cockily as he casually wandered into Emma's bedroom, hopping onto her bed without waiting for permission. "Is this our bed?"

"It's my bed… though now I have to burn everything on it. Thanks," she snipped, casting him a tight-lipped smile.

He let out a hearty chuckle at her obvious irritation, leaning back slightly, allowing himself to sink further into the comfy mattress for a moment and thoroughly enjoying her look of chagrin. Slowly, he stood back up, teasingly smoothing the bed covers down where he had been sitting.

"So, is that the grand tour then?"

"Pretty much," Emma sighed, heading back out of her bedroom. This time, Hook followed her obediently. "Oh yeah, the bathroom's over there," she pointed just to the left of the bedroom. As Hook drew closer in order to look over her shoulder, Emma crinkled her nose and sniffed. "Is that you?"

"Is what me?"

"That… smell…"

Hook looked outright offended. "Well, it's not as if I've had a maid service all this time."

"That's you? God, Hook," she cringed, taking a step away, raising her hand to signal him not to come any closer. Until a few minutes before, she had walked him from the docks to her apartment building and hadn't noticed out in the fresh air, but now that they were in such close proximity, there was a definite, dull stench. "Ok, you need a shower."

"A what?"

"When was the last time you bathed? Or washed your clothes?"

"I wash!" He was now arguing with her heatedly. "I'm sure you'd smell like roses after being locked in a closet for over a day as well."

Emma just looked him up and down, shaking her head. "Ok, I have no idea how to wash those, but you can't stay in them," She said finally, gesturing at his long leather coat, pants, and vest that he was wearing. "Just go… clean up a little, and then…" she paused, taking a moment to mentally scold herself for what she was about to suggest. "-Then we'll go buy you some new clothes."

The offense on the pirate's face dissolved into a look of amusement. "Excuse me, Swan?"

"You heard me, Hook. I'm not offering again."

"What's wrong with these? I suppose you want me to dress like that pretty boy, Charming."

"That 'pretty boy' is my father, and I don't care how you dress as long as you don't smell like that," she snapped dryly, growing impatient with the impossible man standing in front of her who was looking equally as stubborn. "Now do you want to go or not?"

"Not really."

"Too bad. You're not sleeping on my couch smelling like that."

"No problem there, love, I generally sleep naked."

"Go clean up. And take the hook off."

"No," he replied indignantly, holding his left wrist close to his body. "Just who do you think you are anyway? I've been nice until now, but-"

"I think that I'm the person who is letting you stay at her house for free for your own safety. And I'm not paying for clothes you ripped to shreds while trying them on." Hook stared Emma down as long as he could before narrowing his eyes and shaking his head at her. He gently twisted the hook at his wrist until it clicked, and pulled it carefully from the sheath that held it in place. He lifted it until it was eye level and wiggled it back and forth momentarily.

"Happy?"

~ASMG~

"This is ridiculous, Emma. What's wrong with my leather? It's more… sturdy."

"No, what you picked to go with it is ridiculous. It looks like that stupid shirt from Seinfeld," she quipped, motioning to the sleeved, puffy, white shirt he was currently sporting along with his black slacks. He was holding the simple dark grey hoodie with red lining that she had picked for him at arm's length as if that were the abomination in the mix.

"From what?"

She shook her head. "Nothing," she muttered, browsing through the clothes rack and picking a long-sleeved, black button up shirt. "Here, try this."

"Well, it's black…"

"Take these too," she said, handing him a dark blue pair of jeans. "I think these will fit."

"Emma, my other clothes are perfectly-" She shot him a paralyzing look that cut him off mid sentence. "What about this?"

She almost laughed at the green shirt in his hand. "Kiss me I'm Irish?"

"I rather like the first part," he smirked as she snatched the t-shirt away lightheartedly, hanging it back up. He watched her eyeing the other clothing seriously as if she was on a mission, and couldn't help but chuckle at her.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just never took you for the high fashion type that cared so much about apparel, love. Then again, I suppose you are a princess."

"I'm not," she snapped defensively. "And I'm not a princess. I just… Will you just go?" she asked impatiently, grabbing the hoodie from him and trading him with a second shirt she had just picked up, this one a short-sleeved, form fitting tee.

An amused smile crossed Hook's face. "You are bossy, aren't you? You really should put that bossiness to better use sometime." He took a teasing step closer. "And I don't mean here."

Emma raised both eyebrows, giving him a look that told him to go before she left him there, shoving him back towards the dressing room. "Hurry up."

Once he disappeared into the small room and shut the door behind him, she felt comfortable enough to leave the area, casually looking through the aisles for other things he might need. She sighed to herself, wondering why the hell she was clothes shopping with Captain Hook, but didn't dwell on it long before picking up a bag of white socks and a pack of boxers, setting them in her basket before walking back towards the dressing rooms. In it was a pair of black jeans, the hoodie, and some white undershirts.

"I am so paying for this out of the sheriff office's funding. There has to be some provision for that in the law, right?"

Her thought was interrupted by a soft click of the door. She looked up just in time to see Hook step out, shoulders slumped in a defeated, almost sheepish fashion. He was wearing the snug but properly sized jeans and the short sleeved light red shirt. It hugged his chest and shoulders just a little bit too tightly, and Emma couldn't help but stare at the transformation he had immediately seemed to go through. He was still wearing his smudged eyeliner and his hair was ruffled and unkempt, but he looked… good.

"I don't know why you're doing this to me, Swan-" he grumbled, shuffling towards the mirror closest to her and turning slightly to look at himself from the back.

Emma's jaw dropped slightly, ever so subtly, when she saw the way the jeans emphasized his backside that she had honestly never noticed. Her eyes moved to where his sleeves left off. Had he always had such nice arms?

"Swan, I said, what else do I need to-" he stopped suddenly, and his eyes lit up with the huge grin that slowly built across his face. "You like this, don't you?"

"Wh-what?" She snapped out of her daze, unable to control the deep blush that heat up her cheeks. "It looks fine."

"That's not what I asked, love," he smirked, purposely walking closer at a slow, sensual gait. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

His fingertips grazed her hip and she jerked back sharply. "No, I-I was just thinking about something," she protested hotly, fumbling for a good excuse.

"Oh, I know what you were thinking about, love." His eyes flashed dangerously with a mix of amusement and lust, his hand rest fully against her hip now.

"Jesus Christ, Hook. Does everything have to be an innuendo with you? I was just thinking about if I should pick up Henry a few things for the new house while we're here."

"Really, love? While staring at my a-"

"Shutup," she interrupted through gritted teeth, reaching into the basket and thrusting the hoodie at him. "Here, try this before you change back."

"The lady has a request?" he purred playfully.

"I just want to get out of here, so try it on, dammit."

He purposely let his fingers brush her hand as he submissively took the jacket from her, earning a hard look from Emma. He ignored it and pulled the sleeve over his handless wrist, easing it over his shoulder. "A little help, love?" he smiled, struggling to get the other sleeve on without a second hand.

Emma hesitated for a long moment before heaving an audible sigh and lifting the jacket over his shoulders, helping him get his other arm into the sleeve. She didn't want to imagine the satisfied, smug look that she knew had to be plastered all over his expression right about then. She stepped back after the job was complete and glanced into the mirror from behind him. She pursed her lips together, determined not to let him catch her looking again, so instead she looked at his face. He met her eyes in the mirror.

"Well?"

She nodded noncommittally. "It looks good. Now go change so we can get out of here."

To Emma's relief, Hook returned to the dressing room, suspiciously without another innuendo, only to open the door a minute later, completely shirtless with the top button of the jeans undone. "Emma?"

She turned with a groan at the sound of his voice. "What n-" The rest of the sentence caught in her throat when she saw him.

He cast her another wide, sly grin, clearly pleased with her reaction. He puffed out his chest out for a moment and then dipped back into the room without a word. Emma was left standing in the middle of the store, mouth slightly agape wondering if he had really just done that, and trying to figure out how to tell her pulse that it hadn't affected her at all. By the time he came back out of the room for the final time, he was completely dressed back in his old pirate pants and shirt, holding the new clothes underneath his good arm.

"Are you finished?"

"Are you, love?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm perfectly willing to try on more for you… if that's your desire…"

"We're done," she said firmly.

He laughed softly, placing the clothes into the basket, picking up the boxers she had placed in there earlier. "Maybe I'll model these for you later," he teased, just a bit too close to her ear.

She gasped and bit her lip, pushing him away from her, annoyed. "In your dreams," she repeated her earlier sentiment.

"No," he paused teasingly. "But I think in yours, love."

The End

A/n: Omg, I had SO much fun writing this. I have ALWAYS wanted a scene like this, and now it looks like we won't even get to see him in normal clothes. *le sigh* Not that I don't like the pirate garb. ;) I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I liked writing it. Please let me know what you thought. :D Also, if you don't mind, I have a poll about 2 new Captain Swan ideas I have, and I'd love your opinions.