A/N: So I felt it was high time for some relief C': I feel like this breaks a bit aesthetically & stylistically from previous chapters so please forgive any lack of continuity . Hope you're having stellar days , & as always , thanks for being such rad readers !

"Hey there." Emma draped herself across Killian's shoulders, hands twining around his neck. She felt his heartbeat jump, her own skipping in response. That was something she would never tire of—the way they got glimpses into the effect they have on each other.

"You've returned." He sighed deeply, laying his hand over hers.

She savoured the warm contact, her face nestled in his hair, contrasted by the wind wrapping them in the scent of chill and brine. Then she pulled away, walking round the bench and taking the seat next to him.

"Is it done? This business." He asked, leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees.

"I wish." She flopped back until the back of the bench bit into her neck. "At least the ring's off."

"Aye, I noticed." When she didn't fill the silence he offered her, he continued. "Like a tot of rum to a wound, love. Do it quickly, if you would."

"It wasn't buying time for a second curse. It was buying time for some kind of…soul transfusion. Odette's memories are slowly merging with my own. It's like reverse amnesia."

She expected him to surge to his feet, to rant and ramble with fury, or, worse, lapse into a lethal silence. Instead, he scrubbed his hand over his face.

"You'd think after just making bail on the Underworld of all places, we'd have earned some sort of slack on destiny's part."

"You'd think." She agreed, reaching to wrap her fingers around his hook. She closed her eyes against the gently whipping breeze, the hair swirling in and out of her face. "Killian."

"Swan?"

"Can you do a favour for me?"

"Anything, love."

"Distract me."

"Oh, well. I've many a shiny thought on how to do that." His voice dripped with sin, and despite herself, a smile tugged at her lips. He shifted into her, knees knocking like buoys on the water, fingertips tracing her arm. "Let's go on an adventure, then, love."

He stood, offering her his hand and tugging her up beside him.

"I'm on call." She pointed out.

"I believe it's safe to say, under circumstances, that's more of a pleasantry. Why don't you let your father know you'll be playing hooky?" He waggled his eyebrows, and she punched him solidly in the shoulder. Ever since she'd made the mistake of enlightening him about the phrase, he'd taken the flimsiest of excuses to use it. Often in reference to them. Often in front of her parents.

The call was short, made shorter by the fact she struggled to concentrate as she juggled listening to her father on the other end, and batting away Hook's wandering hands on this end. He tugged at the ends of her hair, slipped his fingers and hook into her belt loops. David agreed in an instant, obviously relieved. She scowled a bit at the realization he'd been mostly humouring her before, but she couldn't be bitter long. He was too worried.

"Someone's taking their distracting duties to an extreme." Emma commented as soon as she hung up and slipped her phone back in her pocket.

"Someone's easy to distract." He singsonged in reply. "And I always take my duties to heart, Swan. Now then, let's away."

They ended up picking up onion rings at Granny's. Emma couldn't bear to stay in one place for long, especially one recently tarnished by Hunter, so they ate them on the go, wandering away from the town.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Hush, we're adventuring."

She filched one of his onion rings in retaliation, snagging it with one finger and biting into it pointedly.

"You blackguard." He feigned being scandalized. "You've more than enough of your own."

"Tastes better because it's yours." She shrugged. "Look it up. It's science."

He merely scoffed. As they meandered, they hopped from topic to topic, almost rapid fire. Soon Killian was swept up in explaining the life he'd built in some RPG game Henry had recommended to him weeks ago.

"It's truly ridiculous, the notions of pirates this realm has. But never mind that, I'm navigating the seas as this flouncy fellow named Sparrow, and I've already five of the Pieces of Eight—which are actually nine, figure that—but I'm well on my way to becoming the one true Pirate King."

"Haven't you already checked that off in real life?"

"That I have. It's a lot less painstaking and guilt-ridden this time 'round, however."

She mentally kicked herself for bringing up his villainous past, but he strolled on, unbothered. "You know, you might give it a go, love. There's a lass named Swann you can select, isn't that a riot?"

"Maybe." She said noncommittally, not able to bring herself to flat out decline when he was obviously so invested in the thing. She enjoyed a good bout of first person shooting every once in a while, but video games on the whole weren't her speed.

A couple minutes later she finally picked up on where they were headed.

"You're taking me into the woods?"

"Aye, I was wondering when you'd catch on." He reached up to scratch behind his ear. "If it 'twere at all possible on such short notice, I would have procured a steed."

"Like back in Camelot." Emma murmured, smiling as she remembered the bright flashes of the forest roaring by, her hands gripped tight around Killian's middle.

"Precisely."

They trudged through the woods seemingly aimlessly, abandoning their current path on what appeared to be Killian's whims.

"Hook." Emma stopped eventually, shaking her head. "Are you just trying to tire me out?" She hoped for his sake he wasn't giving her the toddler treatment.

"If I were simply looking to exhaust you, Swan, I assure you I've a much more comfortable means of doing so." The raised eyebrow left absolutely no room for misinterpretation.

She attempted to bite back her grin as she rolled her eyes.

Eventually the soft churning of running water reached her ears, and Hook picked up the pace, grabbing her hand and leading her forward. They broke through a particularly dense group of trees, revealing the bank to a wide creek.

"Oh." She said. It was mesmerizing, the slow, steady movement of the clear water, pierced through with sunlight peeking through the trees as it carried along clusters of fallen blossoms.

"Come along, then." He had stilled so she could take it all in, but now he urged her forward.

"Um, what exactly do you think you're doing?" She stood her ground.

"Taking you for a dip, of course."

"Ahahaha, cute. No." There was no way in all the various levels of Hell she was going in there.

"I'd take your jacket off if I were you, darling." He released her hand for the moments it took to shuck off his own. She made no move to follow suit.

"I don't need to take my jacket off because there is no way I'm getting in that water."

"Last chance." He warned, reaching back for her hand.

"Okay, okay, okay!" She said as he gave her a quick tug. She wasn't going down without a fight. But on the off chance this was a losing battle…She tossed her jacket on top of his.

"There's a girl." He grinned approvingly before his expression took on a devilish light. The change was instantaneous, within the second, he was hauling her toward the edge.

Emma let out a high-pitched squeal, digging her heels in to slow his progress. But he was determined, and fueled by the fact he had nothing to lose and everything to gain. He didn't play fair, hooking his hook around her upper arm to give himself leverage as he put the brunt of his weight toward the lip of the bank.

She caught him in the midst of shifting his weight, and she used it against him, becoming dead weight and toppling them both over in a flurry of leaves. She landed on top of him, pinning him to the ground. The air left him in one fell swoop. She laughed, not making any move to make things easier on him, and not bothering to pick the stray leaves and twigs out of his hair. He merely smirked, eyes alight with joy and mischief, and she knew she was in for trouble.

"Think you've won, then?" He asked, flexing his fingers against her side. She squirmed a bit, wary of his self-assured attitude, and entirely too aware of the lines of his body pressed close to hers. She finally realized the source of his confidence: the proximity to the water.

"Don't you dare."

He grinned boyishly as his arm went around her back, bracing her against him as he rolled in quick succession, sending them straight into the creek.

Sun-warmed water saturated her clothes instantly. The point they'd entered in was barely deep enough to have the water reach her knees. She waded out, accepting her fate and bent on revenge.

Killian pursued her, unable to contain his satisfaction. "Now that wasn't so bad was—"

She sent a concentrated splash into him, spraying his face.

"No, not so bad." She replied cheekily as he spluttered.

"Bad form, that." His eyes were dark as he stalked towards her.

For the second time, she realized she was in over her head. This time, literally, as he grabbed her and plunged them both below the surface. They were suspended for one bright moment underwater, the sun streaming from above like some holy light. She came up gasping, the sting of wild water in her throat.

"You, prick." She managed when she finally had her air back.

"Simple matter of tit for tat." He said. This time the darkness in his eyes wasn't a show of petty, light-hearted comeuppance. No, they were heavy with a much more preferable promise.

Her retort was lost on her tongue when she realized how close they'd drifted together, hips pressed under layers of drenched fabric. When he bent closer, she subconsciously sucked in a breath that made his lips quirk.

"You've got something in your hair." He explained, feigning purity as he picked a mangled flower out of her soaked hair.

"What a tease—" She didn't get the rest of the sentence out as his hand curled up into her hair, lips crashing into hers. The slide of his tongue against hers was dark and deliberate, and he swallowed the sound she made in the back of her throat. She pushed back his drenched bangs, the fingers of one hand knotted in his hair and those of the other shimmying up the wet fabric of his Henley in a slow drag that ended up with her palm resting over his heart.

"I missed you." She confessed when they finally broke apart.

He raised a brow and she sighed, forehead falling to his shoulder.

"Since all this mess started."

He hummed, and she burrowed into the feel of it reverberating in the column of his throat, feeling safer than she had in days.

"I don't know about you, love, but I'm about ready to not be wearing my clothes as a second skin. Let's head home." Killian said finally.

In a remarkable display of self-control, Emma bit back every innuendo that popped in her head. Instead, she interlocked their fingers and together they left the creek, stooping to swing their jackets over their arms before traipsing back through the close bouquets of trees. They went straight to their house, snickering at the odd looks they received as they dripped their way through town.

Emma showered first, emerging new with a mug of cocoa waiting on the counter. She took a grateful sip, eyebrows kicking up at the unexpected burn of rum. Killian muffled a laugh, dropping a quick kiss on her forehead before heading up the stairs to take his turn washing up. When he came back down, she had a blanket fresh out of the dryer that she draped round his shoulders, tugging him toward the couch. He closed his eyes in appreciation before pulling her down beside him, throwing an arm around her shoulder.

"Finally we've a moment to—what was the phrase?—Netflix and chill." He said as the red home screen stretched across the TV.

"This is a little tame to be Netflix and chill."

Twenty minutes into Pulp Fiction, Killian sneaked his hand up her tank top, cupping her breast, eyes never wavering from the screen.

"Netflix and chill?" He whispered solemnly a moment later.

"Netflix and chill." She confirmed just as seriously, though she felt a surge of affection spiral through her.

By the end of the film, they were tangled up in each other, Killian lightly snoring with his head pillowed on her chest, one hand at an awkward angle as it loosely gripped her hip, and his hook dangling over the side of the couch. She feathered her fingers through his hair before letting her hand rest on his lower back.

"Thanks for the distraction." She whispered.