Captain Swan AU for awkwardhook. Happy late Secret Valentine's gift, since you never got one from your original valentine. You requested CS dancing, so here it is. I hope you like it! I certainly had fun writing it.


"It's a Waltz, love, not a march." Hook teases. Emma huffs, staring down at her feet in concentration. Dancing has never been a skill she had needed, and it wasn't like she would spend her own money to take lessons for no real reason. Now, a part of her wishes she had though. Or that she had at least some sort of experience in it. Because it's all she can do to not step on Hook's feet, stomping around the room like an elephant. Her mind toys with all the possible excuses to leave; before she would have made an abrupt mad dash for the door, but she knows how much that would upset Snow.

It's a ball her mother (it still feels weird to think of her that way) has thrown, in celebration of the defeat of the Wicked Witch of the West, as well as their return home to the Enchanted Forest. For good, this time. Emma had tried to worm her way out of it, the idea of big puffy dresses and music and dancing is all very unsettling. She feels like she doesn't belong in the elegant setting, and has been counting down the minutes to it's end from the moment she began to put on her dress.

The one silver-lining of the evening has been Hook, who has stayed by her side the entire time (she would have killed him if he hadn't). He seems just as out of place in the ballroom as she does, but unlike Emma, he had the charm and confidence to finagle his way through it. And he also knows how to dance. She's equally proud and envious, as they step back and forth across the ballroom floor, narrowly avoiding running into another pair (she has to admit, it's a good thing Hook is leading).

"Relax, Swan." Hook laughs lightly, a sound that would have been pretty, had it not been directed at her. "You're putting too much thought into it." he says as if it were the easiest thing in the world, and not for the first time that night she finds herself wondering where he had learnt how to dance. The more she thinks about it, the more she realizes she doesn't know very much of his past at all. She knows about Liam, and Milah, and Rumpelstiltskin, and Neal (Baelfire back then), but the lesser details are a mystery. With a startling ache in her chest, Emma realizes that she wants to know, about everything. From his childhood to how he became a pirate, to what happened to him in Neverland and how he first teamed up with Cora. Emma wants to know it all.

"Where did you learn to dance?" the words tumble from her lips before she can stop herself, her first question of many, but the one best suited for the setting. The others would come later. Hook grins at her, twirling her around with his good hand; Emma barely manages to make it not appear awkward on her part. (She's well aware of the irony in her name; Emma most certainly does not have the grace of a swan.)

"Often the Royal Navy were invited to celebration balls in honor of their service. It would not do the uniform well to have their men stomping around like uncaged animals on the ballroom floor." He attempts to sound cheerful, but the longing and hint of sadness in his voice taints his words. The mention of the Navy brings back bittersweet memories for Hook. Emma selfishly wants to know why.

"You were in the Navy?" she quirks an eyebrow. That's something she's never known before. Emma tries to picture him in the blue and white uniform, all uptight and responsible and serious like Navy men are suppose to be. It's somewhat impossible. Not her flirtatious, cocky, self-indulgent Hook. But she has to admit it's easier now than it would have been in his pirate clothes.

Gone is the leather jacket and red vest, in it's place a tailored suit with a cravat around his neck and black suede jacket over his shoulders, covering a puffy white dress shirt. His signature hook is missing from his attire, instead using a prosthetic hand he had gotten from the modern world (which seems so long ago now), hidden by a black glove - the only leather in his entire outfit. He's even without his earring. It's an entirely new look, and Emma has to admit that she likes it. (She misses her pirate though.)

"Does that surprise you?" Hook asks, and she's startled by the sincerity in his voice. He wonders if she will ever see him as something other than a pirate - as Killian Jones, the man he once was. Emma understands that by the look in his eyes. She smiles at him, lifting her head higher with a jovial smirk stretching across her lips.

"I can see it." And the more she thinks on it, the clearer the image becomes. Yes, she can see some of the qualities of a naval officer in him. Hook has a certain code of honor, which he follows strictly, even in his piracy. And how he stood by their side the entire time they fought against the Wicked Witch and her forces, refusing to leave any man or woman behind in the midst of chaos. It isn't the first thing that comes to mind when she looks at Hook, but Emma can see it there, underneath the surface. It makes her love him all the more.

Hook grins back at her, pleased by her answer, and Emma returns it. Now that the door is open, she can't help herself but to continue on and ask him to tell her more, because she's dying to know. "How did it happen? What inspired the young Killian Jones to take up a life of service on the seas to a royal court?" she asks playfully, curiously. His love of the sea must have been a contributing factor, she thinks. But why the Navy? Why not straight into piracy, or a fisherman even?

"My brother." he says truthfully. He lets out a short sigh, nostalgic but not sad. "When I was a young lad, my father left me in port, on the run from his crimes. I only slowed him down. For awhile I lived on my own, stealing for my way of life, before Liam found me." Hook continues, and Emma squeezes his shoulder in support. She understands completely, her own childhood rearing it's ugly head in the back of her mind. "He joined the Navy as soon as he was of age, and had worked his way up to lieutenant. When he had heard of what had happened, he came looking for me. And he took care of me. I spent more of my life with my brother than my father, and it was he I wanted to be like." Hook laughs softly. "I wanted to be just like him."

"He sounds like he was a good man." Emma says sympathetically, smiling at him, recalling what David had told her of Liam's demise.

"He was." Hook sounds wistful, and Emma can see the thought of his brother pains him.

"And your father was a dick." she adds in, putting extra emphasis on the insult. He laughs and Emma grins, because she succeeded in her intent.

"Aye, he was too." And just like that the air of melancholy that was forming around them dissipates, all smiles and laughter. They sway back and forth, holding eye contact and grinning like madmen. And they're happy, completely ignorant of the world around them, only focusing on each other. They're so unaware, they don't even notice when the music stops, or when the other couples stop moving. It's several steps later when the pair finally fall out of their haze and grasp what's going on.

Emma blushes when the realization hits her, leaning in close to Hook's side and stubbornly lifting her head up to watch Snow, - who's standing up in front of all the guests with her father at the throne - as if nothing's happened. She can hear Hook snickering quietly, his arm squeezing lightly around her waist.

"See, that wasn't so bad now, was it?" he whispers into her ear and she can hear his grin; she doesn't have to look to know it's there. Emma bites her lip to keep from smiling, shaking her head. "Think of it as good practice for our wedding." Hook says, and she looks down at her left hand on instinct, admiring the shining diamond as she flexes her fingers.

"When our wedding comes, I'll be damned if anyone forces me to do something I don't want to." she tells him, and he chuckles, not doubting her words for a moment. Emma turns her attention back to Snow, a smile on her lips as she leans her head against Hook's shoulder.