Emma filled Ruby in on what had happened the previous night between sips of much needed coffee. She left out the fact that Cora had made it to Storybrooke along with Killian, and she was grateful that Ruby was still in such a state of shock that she didn't think to ask about the woman; but Emma knew that once Ruby collected herself she would put the pieces together. It was only a matter of time before she realized what was really going on.

After Emma was satisfied that Ruby's curiosity was sated, she made some excuse about needing a shower, gently hinting that Ruby needed to leave. She took the cue, closing the door to the room quietly on her way out.

Emma pulled out her phone. She still needed to tell Mary Margaret her made up story about staying with Ruby last night. Just as she was about to press the dial button she reconsidered. A text would suffice for now. She quickly typed something up, making sure to include details about the copious amounts of whiskey she imbibed. She hesitated for a moment, fingers hovering above the keypad awaiting orders of what to press next. "Call me when you get done today," was finally punched out, and she sent the message moments later.

It felt wrong to tell her over text that she was going to be staying at the inn indefinitely because her sanity couldn't take another night of hearing her parents go at it. Plus, it gave her eight hours to collect her thoughts; come up with a way to break the news to Mary Margaret as gently as possible.

She began making her way over to the bathroom, stripping of her clothing as she walked. The tile was cold on her bare feet, feeling especially good on the bottom of her injured toe. She gripped the controls for the faucet, adjusting the temperature until it was appropriately hot. She made the mistake of allowing the raw wound on her foot to get caught in the stream of water. Something like a curse word flew from her mouth as she jerked her foot back instinctively. She reached up and pushed the shower head away so that it was spraying on the wall and stepped in once more, this time carefully positioning her foot so that it wouldn't get doused in the scalding liquid.

The strong water pressure felt good on her back as she stood facing away from the shower head, foot propped on the wall of the tub so that her toe was out of the path of the cascading water. She rolled her head from side to side, using her uninjured hand to smooth the shampoo out of her hair and lightly push down on the sore muscles in her neck.

What the hell were you thinking, Emma? The question had been racing through her mind ever since she'd woken up in Killian's bed that morning. You agreed to help him get rid of Cora. Bearing your soul was not included in the deal. She repeatedly chastised herself, blaming the whiskey for her severe lapse in judgement. A part of her refused to accept that explanation though, periodically piping up, You went to him, remember? And she hated herself for that. But she hated herself even more for not really hating what happened as a result. Maybe Ruby was right. Maybe you do feel som- NO.

She pushed the knob back in, halting the flow of water over her body. Beaded droplets continued to drip from her nose and fingers, her wet hair sending a fluid stream of them down her back. She gripped the shaggy towel draped over the bar just outside the shower and wrapped it around herself securely.

Steam still hung in the air, floating to the ground slowly. The mirror above the sink had a layer of foggy moisture covering it, obscuring Emma's reflection. She swiped her hand across it, starting herself in the eyes once her face was made visible. What were you thinking, Emma? She continued to gaze at the woman in front of her, willing her to provide an answer that didn't imply she had some sort of feelings for the man.

Frustrated with herself, she stormed back into the main room, throwing herself onto the bed angrily. She sat up after several moments, scanning the room for her discarded clothing. Her eyes stopped on a yellow piece of paper at the end of the bed.

"Came in while you were showering. Your clothes are currently enjoying a very thorough spin cycle. - Ruby"

She allowed herself to fall backwards onto the mattress once more, staring up at the ceiling with the hope that it would provide her with answers. Her eyes were just starting to drift closed when a knock at the door brought her back to consciousness.

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The final piece of the puzzle had fallen into place after Emma had left that morning. Cora had revealed her location. She was hiding in the woods just outside of town, apparently keeping close watch on her daughter's residence.

He changed into a set of clothing he'd swiped from one of the shops in town. Walking around Storybrooke while clad in all leather was a recipe for disaster, so instead he opted for a relaxed blue and green flannel button-up shirt and something called jeans. Satisfied that he was dressed plainly enough, he set off to inform Emma of the recent development, noticing how his spirits perked up at the prospect of being in her company once more.

He hugged the lines of the buildings, making sure to stay out of sight as best he could. The coat he'd taken had deep pockets, allowing for an easy way to conceal his hook. He walked briskly, hoping that she'd gone where he'd suspected. Given the fact that her parents had driven her to down the better part of a bottle of whiskey, he wagered that she wouldn't be returning home.

A silent prayer passed through his mind as he swung open the door to the building he'd been searching for. He scanned the front room. It appeared as though no one was working. He'd just placed his foot down on the first stair when a bubbly voice accosted him from behind.

"Can I help you with something?" He turned around to see a young woman with red lipstick dark brown hair smiling back at him sharply.

He cleared his throat and paced over to the desk she was standing behind. "Yes, actually. I'm looking for Emma Swan." He smiled brilliantly at her, filling the expression with as much charm as he could muster.

"And who are you?" Her arms crossed over her chest, and she shifted her weight so that one hip stuck out.

He paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer. Then, "Neal. I'm someone from Emma's past. Please, I've come all this way." The smile he shot her was less genuine this time. She was beginning to annoy him.

She stared back at him with a slotted gaze, appraising the truth of his reply. Then her eyes widened and she breathed in through a half-smile, clamping her mouth shut quickly as though she were trying to mask her reaction. "No you're not." Her arms uncrossed, palms now supporting her weight as she leaned over the wooden table. "But she's in room two." With a wink, she spun back around, walking out of sight.

He shook his head in confusion as he trudged up the stairs. What an odd lass, he thought as he reached the designated room. He brought his knuckle up to eye level and rapped on the door softly. A few seconds later he was locking eyes with Emma, her face poking through the narrow crack in the door she'd just barely opened.

Recognition of who was standing in front of her seemed to catch her by surprise, and she flung the door the rest of the way open, shooting her arm into the hallway to grab him by the lapel of his jacket. She tugged forward firmly, and he stumbled into the room, walking past her as she anxiously closed the door and checked outside to make sure no one else was out there.

"What are you doing here?" Her tone was exasperated, and she barked the words out in little more than a whisper. He hadn't noticed what she was wearing - or, rather, not wearing - moments before. Now that she was standing opposite him with her back was pressed against the door he got a full view of her attire. Her wet hair snaked over her shoulders and moisture still clung to her limbs. He could see the gentle curves of her body through the fabric of the towel, and his eyes lingered a second too long on the center of her chest where the material was tucked into itself. Her cheeks flushed and her arms shot up, grasping at the hem of the towel in an attempt to better cover herself. Pity. "Hook. What are you doing here? Did anyone see you?"

"I'm offended, love. You think me incapable of stealth?" He feigned hurt, throwing his hand over his heart in a mock gesture. Her lips straightened into a line, irritation showing in her features. "Maybe I'm here because I enjoy your company." He took slow steps forward, stopping half a foot short of her toes.

She leaned her neck forward, chin tilted up defiantly. "Bullshit." She skirted to the side, walking past him toward the opposite wall of the room.

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The last thing she had been expecting was to see him outside her door. Panic flooded her senses when she processed who he was - where he was. She'd grabbed him without thinking. If anyone saw him here...

She'd forgotten what she was wearing until she'd caught him staring at her nearly exposed chest. She made a mental note to kill Ruby when she finally returned with her clothes. Clothes. He wasn't wearing leather. Her eyes took in his new form, causing a warmth to grow in the pit of her abdomen. The flush in her face was beginning to spread to other parts of her body. She began to envision unbuttoning the fabric covering his chest, slipping it over his shoulders- Stop it, Emma!

"Bullshit." She tucked herself around him, dipping her elbow to avoid brushing her heated skin up against him. She stared at the empty wall in front of her, waiting for him to give her a straight answer - if he was even capable of doing such a thing.

"I came to tell you that I'm ready to move against Cora." She turned back around slowly, her head leading the movement. She knew that she'd promised to help him, but now that the time had come to actually act she wasn't sure that she could.

"Hook, I don't know if I-" Fear and doubt were overtaking her mind. What if they failed? What if this only strengthened Cora's resolve to hurt her family?

He closed the distance between them. She paced backwards in a feeble attempt to keep him away, but was eventually halted by the wall behind her. He, however, continued forward, only stopping once their faces were inches apart. She had to tilt her chin up slightly so that she could look him in the eyes properly. The familiar scent of him found her, the heady aroma making her eyes flutter. "Emma, you're the only one who can do this." The words came out in a hushed tone.

The monster of doubt had begun to grow inside of her. Her mind was reeling at a maddening pace, trying to think of alternatives to confronting Cora. "No, I can't! I got lucky last time! She-"

He slammed his palm into the wall beside her head, making her jump. "Dammit, Swan! I need y-" He took a breath to steady himself, squeezing his eyes shut tightly before meeting her gaze again. "I need your help on this. I can't take her alone, and no one else in this godforsaken town..." He stared off to the side, bringing his jaw toward his shoulder. His eyes were the first thing to raise back up, meeting hers as he slowly squared his face. His tone was softer, pleading, "It has to be you... Emma, I need you."

"Killian..." she whispered back, her hands subconsciously finding themselves on his chest. He'd moved his hips so they were now pressed against hers, and she could feel her blood pulsing through her veins, waking parts of her that had lain dormant for years. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and all she could think about was how perfect his body felt against hers.

His hand dropped down to her shoulder, resting lightly on the bare skin. Her breath hitched; his touch was like fire. He brought his head down so that his lips were hovering above her own, waiting for her to either push him away or give in. Her eyes flicked from his parted mouth to his ice blue eyes and back, silently giving her consent. His teeth ghosted over his bottom lip; he was half a breath away-

A sharp knock at the door halted his head. Emma blinked twice, pulling back from him as much as the wall would allow. His eyes searched her face and his head ticked to the side faintly, begging her not to pull away.

She slipped out of his touch, every part of her protesting the action. She heard him sigh heavily behind her. Taking a cleansing breath, she walked toward the door. Ruby had finally brought her clothes back, and just in time.

She turned the knob and pulled, "Thanks for washing them, Ruby, but-" Her hands fell to her sides in shock. Her mouth hung open slightly as she stared at the person in front of her. He brushed past her, striding into the room like he owned it.

"Wasn't aware you were expecting company, love." A smile was on his face, but his tone was warning. He'd shoved both arms back into his pockets, effectively concealing the unorthodox appendage.

"Killian, you need to go." Her eyes stayed transfixed on the intruder. Eleven years. Eleven years he'd left her alone. Why now?

He took his hand out of his pocket, shifting his weight and gesturing at the man who'd just interrupted them. "Wait, is this-"

"Leave, Hook." She continued to stare at Neal, who had yet to say a single word. He merely met her gaze, eyes unflinching.

Killian marched past her, slamming the door violently upon his exit.

"What the hell are you doing here, Neal?"