Taking Back Neverland—pt. 4

CS Genre: AU (Actors who "hate" each other)

"Alright everyone! Break's over!" Leroy growled, stopping into the break room with a scowl. "Let's get this show on the road."

Killian groaned. It had been a long day; these hours were killer. Taking a last gulp of his water, he got to his feet and offered his costar his hand. "Guess we'd best go, Swan."

She closed her eyes tightly, burrowing farther into the couch she'd claimed as her own when they'd started in on their break. It amused (and kind of impressed) him, her ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat.

"Don't want to. Comfortable," She groused.

He laughed and tapped her on the shoulder. "Are you really willing to risk Leroy and Regina's wrath, love?"

She cracked an eye and then sighed. "Guess not."

Emma took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. He smiled as they walked the few steps back to the set. To tell the truth, he found this woman fascinating. Certainly they hadn't started on the best footing. She'd fairly run from him that day of the chemistry test. But despite the rocky start, he believed things were going well now.

Well, as well as he could expect.

The lass had walls as thick as he'd ever seen. It was clear that someone had hurt her; badly. Killian felt the anger burn at the thought, wishing he could confront the cad who'd wounded this wonderful woman so deeply. What manner of man could treat another person in such a way that she no longer believed in the possibility of love?

Killian sighed. He supposed it was truly none of his business who had hurt her. What he hoped would one day be his business was how to help her heal. If only the lovely Miss Swan would let him.

One of the make-up artists snagged him on his way back to set, insisting she desperately needed to reapply guyliner. As the woman worked over him—and a second appeared to artfully muss his hair, Killian focused on the scene ahead.

Anna had woken to the sound of crying during her their first night on Neverland. Going to investigate, she'd come across none other than Peter Pan himself who'd given her a blank map. He'd assured her that the map would appear as soon as she acknowledged who she really was. After several fruitless attempts, she finally succeeded, and the rescue mission finally had something to work with. Such was the backdrop to Hook and Anna's first big one-on-one scene of the day.

As the women worked over him, Killian reread the script, closed his eyes and went through his standard "get into character" routine. It was shockingly easy with this role. There was something about Captain Hook that reminded him deeply of himself—and despite what he'd said to his mate before the chemistry test, in moments of true honesty he couldn't deny it.

Acting as though he were falling in love with Emma Swan was…barely acting at all.

"Looks like you're devilishly handsome again, Captain," the make-up artist said, with a playful tap to his cheek.

Killian smiled winningly up at her as he got to his feet and prepared to head to set. "Thanks, love."

Emma was waiting when he reached the set, which replicated a dark, sweltering jungle. She paced back and forth, bounced on the balls of her feet, muttered to herself, stopping every once in a while to consult her script.

Killian leaned up against an artificial palm tree, his arms crossed, an amused smile on his face, and unabashedly watched her. After a moment, she noticed his perusal, and a lovely pink shaded her cheeks.

"What?" she asked defensively. "Never seen an actress get into character before?"

His grin widened. "Never one so lovely as you," he said smoothly.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Do those lines ever really work on anyone?"

"I assure you, Swan," he said, pushing off of the tree and ambling over to her, "I'm not in the business of using lines. I assure you, my comment was quite genuine."

"Yeah, well…" she said, uncomfortably. "I guess we better get to it then."

"As you wish," Killian said, taking his place at Emma's side, both of them looking down at the map as they each held a corner.

"Quiet on the set!" Regina shouted regally. She waited for her command to be obeyed, and then turned back toward Killian and Emma. "Alright, annnd…action!"

Hook handed the map back to Anna, and she folded it up. "Excellent show of patience love. And that's what defeats a nasty little boy."

She looked startled for a moment, surprised eyes meeting his. Was this woman truly so unused to receiving praise? Bloody hell! There was something almost criminally tragic about that. Hook reached beneath his leather coat and grabbed his flask from his back pocket.

"I certainly hope so," Anna responded. Her eyes narrowed as she saw the flask in his hand. "Is rum your solution to everything?"

He smirked. "It certainly doesn't hurt."

Hook took a drink, and then handed the flask over to Anna. Despite her half-hearted complaint about his libations, Hook noted that she took the container readily enough, and immediately brought it to her lips. He watched her intently, something about his flask in her lovely hand, her lips against the opening affecting him in a way he didn't even want to think about.

"So, just how did you unlock the map?" he asked, desperately trying to regain his emotional equilibrium.

She shrugged, and then looked up at him, her eyes filled with the barest traces of pain and insecurity. "I did what Pan asked."

"Just who are you, Swan?"

She grinned at him, more than a hint of flirtation in her eyes. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Aye, he would. He'd like to know everything about her. Every bloody thing. He paused for a moment before answering, his eyes radiating his sincerity. "Perhaps I would."

He'd shocked her; he could see it in her eyes. She held eye contact for barely a second before dropping her eyes, returning his flask, and walking determinedly away.

Hook sighed. He must go slowly, gently. Those walls of her would take some time and patience to breech.

"Aannnd cut!" Regina called, broad smile on her face. "You two have some of the best chemistry I've ever seen. First take and you nailed it! Let's try one more take to experiment with different camera angles, but honestly? I think that's just about a wrap!"

Killian took a long, deep breath and slowly let it out. It was no wonder their performance—his at least—had come off as sincere. Somewhere between "action" and "cut" he'd ceased acting at all. He may have been repeating lines written for the dashing Captain Hook, but he meant every word. He did want to get to know the lovely Emma Swan.

He could only hope she'd one day give him the opportunity.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Emma stepped through the studio doors and made a b-line for the refreshments table in the lounge. She was running late today, and she desperately needed to get into hair and makeup, but if she was going to survive filming she needed coffee first.

Lots and lots of coffee.

Emma poured herself the tallest cup she could find and breathed in the steam, closing her eyes in pleasure, the strong scent comforting and relaxing her. She took her first sip and nearly groaned. If she was going to deal with Killian and his ridiculous….everything…she needed a cup or five of good coffee first—and this was really, really good coffee.

Come on Emma, her inner voice (which sounded waaayyyy too much like Mary Margaret) chided, don't you think you're being a little unfair? Killian's really…not that bad.

She sighed and took another sip. She had to admit it was true. He'd actually been a total gentleman ever since this whole project started two weeks ago. Not only that, but she actually liked him. He was funny and charming and witty, and near the end of long filming days—when she was too exhausted to keep her guard up—she'd talk and laugh with him in between takes.

And that was kind of the problem. She had no intention of ever dating an actor again—particularly one that was as handsome and charismatic as Killian freaking Jones. Especially not one who had a string of woman five miles long that would do anything to be with him.

She'd learned her lesson with Walsh that actors were the worst, because they could act. He'd pulled off an Emmy worthy performance, making her think he cared about her, loved her, but in the end his true colors had shown through, and she'd gotten her heart broken.

Never, never again!

But Killian's not Walsh, her annoying inner voice reasoned, Your 'super power' hasn't so much as reared its head with him. He is who he makes himself out to be.

Maybe, but Emma wasn't ready to chance it.

Although, if she were being brutally honest, it was becoming increasingly hard to stay indifferent to him. The other day when they'd filmed the scene where Hook told Anna he would like to know who she is, the way he'd looked at her…the way everything about his body language had been attuned to her…it was overwhelming. It had taken every bit of her acting skills not to turn tail and run—before the script called for Anna to, at least.

But it wasn't just when they were acting. Throughout the day from time to time, she'd feel his gaze upon her, and she'd look up and catch a look of similar longing and intensity in his ridiculously blue eyes. Killian Jones's eyes not Captain Hook's eyes. Emma tried to convince herself he was just trying to stay in character, but…well, deep down she knew the truth. Killian was starting to have feelings for her.

Would that really be the end of the world? Emma growled, snatching a donut hole and shoving it in her mouth. Was it not bad enough Ruby was constantly asking her what it was like to work with "Captain Hottie" as she called him, did even her subconscious have to push her toward him?

Trying to distract herself, she grabbed her script out of her jeans pocket and went over the scene for the day. (Yeah, great distraction from Killian, Emma, considering today you'll be exclusively working on scenes with him!)

Today, they'd be filming the scene in Baelfire's cave—the one where Hook tries to comfort Anna, and she doesn't want any part of it. Emma looked down at the words once more.

Anna: Look, I know what this is, you trying to…bond…with me. Well save your breath because I'm not interested.

Man had Regina type cast her! It was like the script writers had gotten into her own head when they wrote that line.

You do know, right, that Anna was only so standoffish because she does have feelings for Hook? She's afraid to explore them, but she knows full well that he's someone she could fall deep and hard for.

But she was Emma, not Anna.

You sure you don't protest too much?

She really needed to do something about that inner voice; it was annoying as hell!

"Hi! You're Emma Swan, right?"

Emma startled at the sound of the young voice, and turned to look into a pair of sparkling brown eyes.

"Yeah," she answered. "And who are you?"

He grinned. "I'm Henry. Your son."

For a moment, panic hit her, memories of the pain as she gave birth, the far greater pain as she watched the nurse carry away her newborn son forever.

Then reason returned. This was Henry, her on-screen kid. This had nothing to do with…well…the worst day of her life.

Emma stuck out her hand, and he put his much smaller one in hers. "Nice to meet you, kid."

"Nice to meet you too!" he said enthusiastically.

A pang went straight to Emma's heart at the sound of his voice, the feel of his little hand in hers. There was something so achingly familiar about this little boy. She had to swallow a substantial lump in her throat before she could speak again.

"So, Henry, we've been filming for almost two weeks. How is it I'm only now meeting you?" she asked.

He shrugged. "My mom only lets me film in the mornings, then I have to work on school work. That was our deal when she hired me. I could be in her movie, but I had to do my school work when my scenes were over."

"Your mom hired you? Who's your mom, kid?"

"Regina Mills!" Henry said.

Emma's eyes widened. "Didn't know Regina had any kids."

"It's just me," Henry said, eyeing the plate of donuts. "She really wanted a baby, so she adopted me, and now I'm ten years old. Well, gotta go. I'm doing a scene with Peter Pan today!"

And with that, he was off.

Ten years old. That's pretty close to the age her own kid would be now. She wondered where he was, how he was doing. The familiar pain and guilt hit her. She knew what it was like to be in the system. What if…what if he'd never gotten adopted? What if he'd been taken in by one of those awful foster families that was only in it for the money?

She tried to deal with it by reminding herself that she was giving her kid his best chance, and that normally worked (although a small, niggling part of her always reminded her that she was adopted by the Nolan's just after jail. She would bet all her savings Ruth Nolan would have given her baby a place to live as well.)

Mostly it worked; mostly she was able to shove the painful thoughts aside, but there was something about seeing Henry…something that tore at her, made her raw.

"There you are," came the British accent. "Your make-up artist is looking for you; we start filming in half-an—are you alright there, Swan?"

Emma quickly swiped at her eyes, pasted on what she hoped was a carefree smile, and turned toward Killian (who looked better than any man had a right to in his pirate leathers, guyliner and shirt unbuttoned nearly to his navel, damn him). "I'm fine. Thanks for reminding me; running late today."

His brows furrowed as he looked at her, the concern evident in his eyes. She made a move to step past him, but he stopped her with a gentle hand to her arm. "No, love, you're not. You look like you're near to falling apart. What's wrong?"

She dropped her head, unable to stem the single tear that slid down her face. He swiped at it with the pad of his thumb. Finally she sighed. Killian was far, far too perceptive. No way she'd be able to bs her way out of this one.

"Alright, I'm not fine," she said, a touch of irritability in her voice, "happy?"

"Not remotely," he said gently, the warm rumble of his voice nearly making her shiver. "Anything I can do to help?"

She shook her head. "I appreciate your concern, but…I'll be fine. It's just, some rough memories from my past kind of reared their ugly heads today."

He was silent for a long moment, and Emma looked down, her hands going to her back pockets, her stance defensive. Finally he spoke again, and his voice was so gentle, tender, hesitant it nearly undid her. "Emma…I too know what it's like to have a painful past."

Suddenly it was too much. All of it. Way too much. She looked up into his concerned face and hardened her heart. "Look," she said, "I know we have to work with each other and everything, and it's a good thing if we get along, but you don't have to, you know, bond with me. I've been dealing with my crap on my own nearly all my life, and I'm…I'm just better alone."

And without another word she pushed past him and nearly ran to the make-up artist. It was only when she'd left the lounge that she realized how ridiculously close to the script they were using today her conversation with Killian had been. Talk about art imitating life!

Well, sort of. She had no intention of ever letting her walls down for Killian Jones.

Yeah, me thinks you doth protest waaaaaay too much, helpfully supplied her inner voice.

Notes:

-I'm baaaaack! My two week trip to France was great. It was a very, very, very much needed break from the stress and hum-drum of everyday life, but now I'm back, renewed and rejuvenated and ready to write more fluff!

-So, basically Killian is falling hard for Emma—and vice versa, but Emma is still in full-on denial mode. (So…basically exactly where they were in the Neverland arc.) Next week we'll get to much more actual interaction between the two of them!

-Up next: David and Mary Margaret ask Killian and Emma to have dinner with them after filming one day, and that gets quite interesting—particularly after MM starts feeling ill, and David has to take her home, leaving the other two to finish dinner alone. The next day, on set, Emma and Killian film a rather pivotal scene. :-)