Emma coughed, leaning against a parked car for support. Around them was pure mayhem, confused hotel guests wandering about, police officers trying to establish some semblance of order, firemen running into the building. Somebody gently grabbed her shoulder and before she came back to her senses, she and Killian were sitting in an ambulance, oxygen masks over their faces.
Shit. Out of the mayhem, a doctor materialized. He quickly examined them, then declared they had to go to the hospital for observation, to make sure they didn't have smoke poisoning. Emma was about to argue when two more people and another first aid responder entered the ambulance and they took off. It all happened in a blur.
She coughed again and caught Killian's eye. He was looking at her questioningly. Shit. Shit. Shit. He didn't have a social security number. Or a birth certificate. Technically, he was an illegal immigrant. They had to get out of this mess before somebody asked the wrong questions.
When they arrived at the hospital, it became clear that their escape might turn out to be easier than expected. Apparently, a lot of people had been exposed to the smoke. The chaos in the hospital was only slightly more organized than the one they had just left. They were ushered inside, then send over to one of the waiting areas.
Emma cursed as she spotted two police officers going around, asking questions and taking down information. While the two men were focussed on talking to some other guests of the hotel, she quickly grabbed Killian's hand and dragged him down one of the corridors. She turned a corner and quickly stepped back when she saw two more police officers approach from the other direction. This was just their luck. She looked around, then unceremoniously pushed Killian into a nearby supply closet, closing the door behind them.
"What the bloody hell, Swan", he grit out, before Emma turned around slightly and put a finger to his lips.
"If they ask for your ID, we're screwed", she whispered quietly.
"If they ask for my what?", his voice dropped to a whisper as well, matching hers.
"It's a paper that proves you have a right to live in this land. Since you don't technically have that right, they might send you away. Or at the very least, contain you until they find out who you are."
"Couldn't you create one of these papers for me using your magic?"
Emma blinked. She hadn't actually considered that option. Then she shook her head. "I've got no idea how to create something like that. Damn it. We should have asked Regina for that back in Storybrook."
"Well, no use crying over spilled rum, love", he said.
She actually had to smile at that. "We'll just have to wait it out. They're bound to go away sooner or later."
"What, in here?" Killian looked around. They were in some kind of walk-in closet, supply racks on every side. There was barely enough space for both of them. Emma was pressed firmly against him in the narrow space. A fact he'd been carefully not thinking about so far.
"Unless you got a better idea?"
"Couldn't we just walk out of here? Nobody knows what we look like or that we were even in that hotel. We could be here for a different reason."
"Sure. And we are walking around barefoot in sweatpants just for the fun of it. No, they will try to stop us if we make a run for it."
Both of them were quiet for a long moment, the silence falling heavily between them. Emma started shifting restlessly from one foot to the other. Killian made a small frustrated noise.
"Will you stand still for a bloody second?" The words were laced with irritation.
"Well, excuse me, but my feet are freezing."
Emma rubbed her hands over her arms, trying to get warm. She was wearing her jacket, but the thin sweat pants were doing nothing to protect her legs and her bare feet were, indeed, freezing. The only thing giving her a bit of comfort was Killian's solid form behind her, radiating heat. As if he'd heard her thoughts, he wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on her shoulder.
"Sorry."
Even though they came out muffled against her shoulder, she could hear the exhaustion, the exasperation in every word he said next.
"It's just that we never seem to be able to catch a break."
She leaned back into him, as if they weren't already as close as humanly possible in the cramped space. "I know."
They stayed silent for long minutes, but this time it wasn't uncomfortable. Well, the silence, not the situation. Emma wondered briefly if she was actually getting frost bite on her toes, when she realized there was something hard pressing into her back.
"This is hardly the time or place", she said, rolling her eyes.
He lifted his head slightly and grumbled into her ear. "It's not like I'm doing this on purpose, love. In fact, one might argue that it is you doing this to me." The last part was said in such a ridiculously flirtatious tone that she rolled her eyes again.
Killian, meanwhile, had removed his right hand from around her waist and used it to draw back the hair over her shoulder. Then, he started to kiss and nibble at the exposed skin on her neck.
"Hook", she said admonishingly while her treacherous body leaned closer to him. The memories of the hotel room, which were still fresh in her mind, came rushing back to her. Heat pooled low in her belly.
She somehow managed to turn around in the tight space of the closet and ran her hands through his hair, pulling him into a fierce kiss, surprising them both. He made a desperate sound in the back of his throat, then he crushed her against the door, deepening the kiss.
The thin fabric of their pants left nothing to the imagination. She could feel the hard length of him pressing exactly in the right spot and she moaned. The sound spurred him into action, his hips started moving in fast, frantic jerks.
He pulled back slightly to start kissing her face, her throat, her neck, his breath coming in short gasps. This was not how she had imagined their first time, frantically getting off in a hospital, for God's sake, but she had no intention of stopping.
Another moan tumbled from her lips and she could feel him shudder, his movements becoming even more erratic. Then suddenly he stopped and pulled back as far as the small space allowed. He put both his hand and hook on the door on each side of her head.
His voice was hoarse and deep, sending a shiver through her. "This isn't right. We have to do this properly."
She examined him in the low light coming in below the door. He was trembling, his body wrought with tension. She had never truly appreciated the iron of his control. Then again, she hadn't know before that he didn't have sex in two hundred frickin years.
She leaned forward a little. He had only been able to bring a hand's breadth between them anyway. She lifted her head and whispered, close to his ear.
"How about improper now and properly later?"
He made a sound which she could only describe as a low growl. His voice was wrecked when he replied. "Are you sure?"
She replied by kissing the shell of his ear, then along his jaw and down his throat.
He remained frozen in place for a second longer, then something snapped and he started thrusting against her. His hand snuck under her coat and shirt, cupping her breast.
She would have thought that the fabric between them would lessen the experience, but instead it somehow added to it, like they were teenagers stealing away for a secret make-out session, never making it out of their clothes.
Killian made desperate little noises in the back of his throat that were absolutely undoing her. His movements sped up, his breathing becoming more and more ragged.
Emma could feel her pleasure building with the delightful friction of each thrust and at the sight of Killian losing his control bit by bit, giving in completely to his desire. It was intoxicating.
Almost. Yes. There., she thought just as somebody opened the door, resulting in them ungracefully tumbling into the hallway.
