They had already performed this song. He counted the beats in his head.

One - two - three -
Four - five - six -
Seven - Eight - and -
One - two - three -
Four - fix - six -
Seven - eight - and -

"You owe me a dance, Lametenant."

She had slinked beside him immediately after their eyes locked in the ballroom. He had carelessly glanced her way one or two times. Perhaps it was three or four when he caught wind of the fifth or sixth glass of champagne she lusciously talked out of another awestruck nameless aristocrat. Princess Emma was erratic, and clever, and beautiful, and crafty and a bloody siren.

"Your Highness." He bowed and straightened his back as she returned her empty drink to a servant with a tray who happened to be wandering by.

"What are you doing here?" She muttered pretending to be uninterested in his answer as she directed her eyes on the band.

Killian recognized what she was trying to do; she was attempting to bait him. Her tricks may have been oblivious to some other target, but he, he could read her like an open book. That, and well, he had first hand experience in her tactics. Emma'd find a way in, and then pull her victim down fast. Hard. Fast. He moved his head as his thoughts jumbled into garbled nonsense. Not tonight, he promised himself wordlessly. Not ever again.

He chuckled, but it was to keep up appearances for those lingering by with curious eyes. Their bitter words were always masked behind a facade of pleasantries. "It's a military ball, Your Highness."

"Yes, but last year you practically begged your Captain to allow you to stay behind on the ship." Emma moved for one more glass of champagne. "To avoid me no doubt."

"Aye." He confirmed. "I needn't see you more than necessary, Your Highness."

"So honest." Emma held the glass to her rouge lips. "Perhaps I'd like you to be here."

"Whatever for?" Killian pursed his lips tightly together. Everything about her demeanor and mannerisms radiated confidence. He had been suckered in without realizing it. Two could play her game. He offered his hand to her; a gesture that suggested he would enjoy her company on the dance floor. Emma slowly tugged her bottom lip in her mouth "Would you care to dance with me, could that be it?"

His sarcasm elicited a laugh. "To get under your skin." She admitted with a wry smile. "Be wary sailor. I may accept your offer."

"I'm afraid dancing won't secure the victory you seek, Your Highness." He shifted his hand back toward his side. "You wont get a rise out of me by dancing."

"Liar." She drawled without batting an eye.

As much as he could read her, the same could be said of her. Emma floated closer to him with a cheeky grin as her hands gently tugged the fabric of her emerald green gown. He intuitively stepped back. She was most dangerous when she was close. The proximity always gave him a cocktail of mixed emotions; anger, annoyance, and at times, a tiny sliver of fear. She was unpredictable like the sea; beautiful and taunting.

"Drunkenness is bad form." She lifted her eyebrows imitating his accent. He circled his eyes. "Bad form indeed, Your Highness."

"That's not what I said." He chided clearing his throat. His eyes roamed the room. Luckily his brother was out of earshot. Nobody of consequence was nearby to eavesdrop their current exchange, so he hardened his face and leaned forward to fight her gaze. The corner of her lip twitched. "You certainly do exaggerate the incident more each time we cross paths."

"Exaggerate?" Emma growled. "I have no need to exaggerate your prude behavior, Lieutenant."

"Prude?" A grunt escaped from the back of his throat. "I may be many things, Princess, but prude is not one of them."

"Oh Lametenant, you certainly don't expect me to believe that."

Here we go, he thought. Take a step back, don't let her get under your skin. This is ridiculous, he lamented. Completely laughable. How can one woman garner such a reaction? You are at the bloody palace, for gods sake. Not only do you need to maintain good form in front of your Captain and crew, but also the kingdom's fashionable society; the King and Queen - and gods, this woman.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think I struck a nerve." The pleased hum of her voice erected the hair on his neck. She was looking rather smug and sure of herself. As his blue eyes met her green, there was a jolt. Something new; something intense; something foreign to the both of them. She was intoxicated; he inhaled the sweet liquor on her breath. He needed to end this before it got out of hand. To do so he had to switch his tactic. Tit for tat would gain him nothing but a headache.

"I know what you're doing."

"Oh?" The Princess laid a hand on his chest. "And what's that, Lametenant?"

He winced as the white gloved fingers outlined circles along his vest. "You're baiting me."

"I am." She laughed. "Is it working?"

"No." It came out much more harsh than he intended.

She smiled victoriously. She had him right where she wanted him. "Liar."

Killian shook his head. Her hand felt like it was scorching through his uniform. She noticed his hesitation to remove it. A mischievous spark set her eyes ablaze. She tousled his hat and yanked on his ponytail. He let out a long breath.

"You don't like this." She shifted her hand to his cheek. "You don't like when I get close."

She was right and wrong at the same time. "What are you doing?" He hissed. "There are over 100 people in this room. What if one takes the moment to notice-"

"Then you'll get the trouble you so rightly deserve."

At that, his eyes narrowed. "I beg your pardon?"

"You stole my first kiss from me. You took a moment that was supposed to be special, and twisted it into one of your high and mighty moral quests." Emma took his hat and placed it on her head. He tried -and failed- to keep his hands at his side. Before he realized what he was doing, Killian reached for his hat the way he used to reach for stolen toys Liam ran off with when they were children. Dignity and propriety be damned! She was deriding him with his bloody hat at a military ball in front of his Captain, crew, and King and Queen.

"I stole your first kiss?" The words rolled off his tongue like venom. "That Prince can sod off. What sort of man coerces a 16 year old girl into a storage closet with a bottle of rum?" He swiped for her head once more, but she was quick and moved to his left. He was answered with a wink. "He was taking advantage of you. His hand was hiking up your skirt when I walked in."

"It was my decision to sneak off, Lieutenant. I was not some damsel in distress that needed you to save me." Emma kicked his boot, and he held a sigh. Wandering eyes of nearby attendees settled on them. His whole body hardened. He looped the word composure in his thoughts as Emma ensnared him with the same argument they had at every encounter with one another since the incident occurred. "You forget that you are only three years older than me," she continued delivering another firm kick. "Don't patronize me." Emma grabbed his hat and set it atop his head so that it dangled lopsided by his right ear. "Philip has not talked to me in nearly two years because of you."

"Princess, it was my job." He sighed adjusting the hat. "What do you want me to say? That I apologize? Well-" Images of the much older Prince with his clammy hands on her knee flickered in his thoughts. Killian snickered. "I certainly wont apologize. If anything, you should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" She seethed. He swallowed hard. The Princess brought her face to his. Too close. Far too close. Her breath was warm on his cheeks. The way her hand was clasping to his jacket.

Oh gods.

"Princess, please." He whispered. "What are you doing?"

She grinned before shoving him hard in the chest. "Thank you, Lametenant for humiliating me at the beginning of a two week journey on a ship surrounded by nothing but open sea. Thank you, for telling your Captain who returned the favor by telling my parents. How ever should I repay you?"

She was challenging him. He never was one to back down.

"You already graciously repaid me, Your Highness."

"You think your brother reprimanding you for-" she made air quotes - "lewd behavior at the palace is justice?"

He bit his tongue and tasted iron. "Bad form, Your Highness. I'd expect more out of a Princess."

"Well you learned the hard way that I am not an ordinary Princess. This isn't over, Lieutenant. The night has only begun."

Wonderful, he mused as she turned her back on him. There was no glance behind as Emma drifted away from their niche of the ballroom and back into the sea of aristocracy. It wasn't long before she grabbed the attention of some other noble. Gods, the flirting. Her silky gloved fingers lightly pressed to her lips as she fabricated a smile. The high-pitched laughter that reeled the poor fool into her web. Not a minute later he had acquired her yet another glass of champagne. And Killian silently cursed at himself for watching. He was unable to place his attention elsewhere.