Thanks to just a bit of inspiration from Pirates of the Caribbean for one moment in this chapter. That scene in the first film where Barbossa is eating with Elizabeth and says something about not needing to stand on formality here, if you're starving you can act like it. Yadda yadda. That is definitely making a distinct appearance here, I couldn't resist!

Chapter 4

Margot realized she had to snap herself the hell out of it. If she wanted any more answers about what the fuck was going on, currently there was only one person she could turn to. And now that she knew who, exactly, he was — not that he hadn't been exceedingly up front about that, from the get-go, she just hadn't been listening — she thought it prudent to at least try to tone down the sass.

After all, here was a man who dedicated his life to the pursuit of harming children. There was nothing more disgusting than that, as far as Margot was concerned, so she wasn't going to go out of her way to test his tolerance level. Shit, she'd already thrown up on his floors.

Moving quickly, she darted to the trunk of dresses he'd brought up. He said he'd expected her covered when he returned and who knew just how long that could be? Hook had clearly established himself as impatient, as well, and considering that she was about to be peppering him with endless questions, it wouldn't hurt to do as he asked. Er, told. Whatever.

When she opened the trunk, it was like seeing something from a period piece film set. But, yes, these must have been pirated from someone very rich because Margot honestly hadn't seen anything of quite this quality in her life. Real silk, sumptuous velvets, and actual fur — ermine from the look of it. Dresses made from brocade fabric looked like they'd been sewn with threads of shining gold and silver and the lace trimming each garment was extraordinarily delicate. There were corsets and slips too, and undergarments she genuinely had no clue how to deal with. There were shoes, delicate heels, satin slippers and expensive suede boots alike. There were even gloves and hats and jewelry and she supposed they must have just swiped the whole case in one go whenever they took over it's owner's ship.

She could have spent a great deal more time admiring everything but now she was rushing to get ready before the Captain returned. And he was right about the sudden oncoming blizzard, apparently, because she could feel herself shivering violently. The fire that Smee had earlier lit in the cabin was already dwindling and she'd restock it herself if she had too.

Forgoing anything she couldn't use — such as a corset — Margot reached for the warmest looking dress she could find. It was a beautiful silk silver gown trimmed in real spotted ermine. A silver, funnily enough, that wasn't unlike the flimsy lingerie she'd just stepped out of. It had a low cut scoop neck but delicate lace provided modesty and a velvet ribbon was sewn into the waist. Neither the sleeves nor the hips of the dress were terribly poofy, thank god, and it was actually quite slimming. The sleeves tapered out into lace that cut off just at the crook of her elbow.

Once she finished slipping into it, she realized that damnit to hell there was lacing all up the back of the gown that needed to be tied shut but she couldn't nearly reach all of it our even hope to feel what she was doing. With a sigh she knew she'd have to suck it up and ask the Captain to help her when he returned.

In the meantime, she chose some shoes, flat and thin but warm enough white little velvet slippers with what appeared to be real pearls embroidered into them. With a glance in a large mirror near Hook's own wardrobe, she realized her hair had dried in tangles from her fall into the water. Finding his brush — which he seemed to keep fastidiously clean as not a trace of one of his long black hairs could be found in it — she raked it through her hair until her blonde tresses finally fell blessedly straight again. Well, now his brush had her hair in it but she sure as hell had no plans to clean it out.

He still hadn't returned yet so she walked back over to the trunk. The guy had already flatly labeled her a whore when she'd simply tried flirting with him so seduction wasn't her aim — still, Margot hadn't met a man yet that didn't soften just a little for a pretty face so she started looking through the few jewels still in the former Marquis' daughter's possessions. Some of them were so large and gaudy that they were practically ugly. Finally she found what appeared to be a simple but rather large amethyst, about the size of a small peach pit. It was cut in hexagonal shape and hung alone and unadorned on a thin silver chain. Finally she found a stunning little white fur caplet that she gratefully threw around her shoulders as wind from the storm outside crept in through the wood cracks of the cabin.

And right as she finished, she heard a soft knocking at the door.

"Come in," she answered softly, resisting the urge to fiddle with her fingers while nervous.

When the door opened, sure enough, the once tropical island was now an intimidating mountain of ice. Instead of the sun beating down, snow was gusting forcefully from the sky and blowing into the room. Hook, standing in the doorway for just a second before slamming it behind him, had put on the brilliant red and gold coat he was so famous for over his black shirt and breeches. There was no denying who he was… Quickly melting snow dusted his long black tresses.

And as she assessed him, she was more aware this time when he began to study her, examining her new appearance slowly from the bottom up. He very obviously — somehow, without being creepy or lecherous — took his time gazing at her hips, her decolletage, and finally her neck. He revealed the ghost of a smile when his stare found the purple jewel necklace.

"You look stunning, Miss Belle. Silver is truly your color," he complimented her softly, "I knew there was a lady in their somewhere."

"You doubted it before?" she couldn't help but tease, partially making fun of herself and that skimpy costume which was suddenly beginning to seem very silly in comparison to the rich fabric on her now.

"That you were a beautiful woman? Not for a second. That you were a lady? Up until this very second," he laughed right back and even she had to smile because his tone held no genuine judgement or malice.

"You're cold," Hook noted next when he saw the fur caplet adorning her shoulders. "I'll call up Smee to restock the fire. Who knows how long this bloody storm will last while Pan throws his latest tantrum…"

"Wait, um, James?"she asked before he could reach for the door again. He turned to look at her quizzically and Margot couldn't help but sense that it was in part from being unused to hearing his first name. "Before anyone else comes in, I actually needed your help with something."

Margot slipped the caplet off her shoulders and turned around to reveal her still very much exposed bare back. Fuck it was like she could feel his gaze searing into her skin, drinking in every inch of her. Hopefully he wouldn't think she was trying to pull some kind of trick and run her through with his hook from behind.

But he wouldn't do that, would he? she thought, as memories about what she knew of him from popular culture filtered back. He'd consider that bad form…

"I've never worn a dress like this, they don't even make them where I'm from and I can't tie up the laces," she explained.

He didn't answer immediately and, for a second with her back still turned, she blushed when she realized — his hook! What if he couldn't…

"Even women who wear these regularly need help, I forgot," he replied easily though, and she heard him stride over to her in just two long steps. And then his hook and hand both were on her. Of course, he'd know how to do it, he was the captain of a ship after all! Everyone on board had to be able to secure a knot, missing a hand or not. Currently she could feel that it crooked through the lacing almost like he was crocheting her dress shut.

He worked quickly and deftly, sinching her in so tightly that it almost felt like she'd worn a corset after all. And every few passes, the cool metal of his hook or the warm callous of his hand would pass across her bare skin — she wasn't naive enough to even try and convince herself it was an accident, he fucking knew what he was doing.

His hook stroked the nape of her neck when he tied the final knot and Margot could not have hoped to stop the tiny little gasp that tumbled from her lips. The way they both stilled at the sound, Margot knew he'd heard her. A blush crept up hot and heavy over her cheeks and up into her ears.

"There you are," James said, playing it off surprisingly graciously, "Anyway, you're still cold, I'll tend to the fire myself. Smee should be bringing up supper shortly anyway. Have a seat Miss Belle."

And the way he avoided her eyes as he turned to busy himself with the fire — a task she was sure he didn't often have to complete himself — Margot got the sense that he was as unnerved right now as she.

"Thank you," she replied before sitting down in one of his luxurious leather chairs by his bookshelves and enormous globe.

For awhile, she allowed herself to simply watch him, entranced. As he built the fire higher, he ultimately removed the fabulous red coat again and tossed it onto his bed. Margot felt herself kind of missing it.

Finally, she cleared her voice, "So, um, this Pan… Peter Pan? He can change the weather?"

"You've heard of Pan?" he asked, standing when his work was finished, the cabin was quickly warming, "But you were shocked when I said Neverland?"

"I've heard of Neverland too… Just never believed it existed, same goes for Peter Pan," she shrugged, "I've heard of you too."

He smiled roguishly. "Pray, indulge me, what have you heard?"

Margot gave him an apologetic look, "To be honest? The general gist of it is that you hunt children and got a phobia of crocodiles after one bit off your hand."

The Captain looked so horrified that Margot had to struggle very hard not to laugh.

"I do not hunt children!" Hook railed, "And I killed that blasted crocodile years ago!"

Margot hid her laugh behind a cough. Regardless, Hook's eyes caught her sharply anyway but she demurred quickly. "To be fair, you've brought up Pan several times since I've been here."

"Pan is hardly a child," he growled before a light knocking at the door, "Come in!"

Hurriedly and without a word, Smee let in a small brigade of men, two of whom were carrying a large oak dinner table and two chairs, though Margot didn't know where they'd have room to put it. That question was answered when Smee began rotating a large crank she hadn't entirely noticed that began to lift Hook's giant bed into the air to be tucked up towards the ceiling. The men arranged a place to eat in its stead.

Margot let out a low impressed whistle, "You really got a legit hook-up in here…"

"Hook-up?" he snarled, not at all understanding her again.

"Sorry," she waved him off, "I have to remember to keep the slang… the, uh, colloquialisms from my time to a minimum. That had nothing to do with your hook, I was just saying your room is pretty impressive."

"I have resided in this cabin a very long time," Hook replied, still looking at her suspiciously, "But to answer your initial question, no, Peter Pan cannot control the weather here. Mysteriously, his moods and presence or absence appear to have drastic effects on the weather but I don't believe he has any real control."

Margot "hmmed" thoughtfully though she's almost forgot asking that question; it had been more awkward small talk. That, and, she was presently very distracted. Behind the men who had set up the table and chairs, were a troupe of others bringing in candelabra and silver and glassware. And then, the aroma of food hit her nose and Margot realized in her shock she had barely noticed how ravenous she was.

After the men lay out the table settings and lit the candles — with Hook still standing beside the now roaring fireplace, barking out the occasional order — the food came. They brought everything from platters of fresh fruit and grilled vegetables, to towers of seafood, to a freshly roast duck and beautiful French pastries and elaborate cakes. Suddenly, the once large table looked overwhelmed with food and Margot couldn't believe it would be for just the two of them.

Hook could see very well how hungry she was and felt pleased. Particularly when it came to women, he vastly preferred to catch his flies with honey instead of vinegar. From the beautiful jewel she'd picked for herself to the way she was eyeing a serving tray of fresh steamed mussels, he knew his plan was succeeding. Miss Belle would be absolutely pliant when it came to answering all of his questions, he was sure.

Approaching the table, he pulled out one of the chairs as his men cleared the room, "Please Margot, have a seat. I thought we might continue to get to know one another over dinner instead of blankly interrogating one another," he said, his Hook extended towards her in invitation, "Much more civil, don't you agree?"

She nodded and leapt up from the leather chair earthly, plopping herself down in front of the feast in what she was sure her friend Sarah would call a terribly unladylike fashion. Margot had yet to come to appreciate the British sense of propriety, though. Neither had her mother, apparently, considering she'd left and moved to America and was frequently considered gauche even by American standards.

"Help yourself, my dear. We have no waitstaff here," he said after pushing in her chair and seating himself opposite her. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes; obviously she hadn't been waiting for servers but even she knew that it was polite to wait for everyone to sit down before starting to eat.

Regardless, she took his invitation at face value, and immediately reached out, ignoring serving utensils, to pile cuts of meat, rolls, and slices of cheese on her plate. She dug in without another word, scarfing down a succulent piece of roast duck first and allowing herself the small satisfaction at groaning aloud at the taste.

"Goddamn I was hungry," she said, mouth still partially full causing Hook to quirk an eyebrow in distaste but not caring, "Oh my God, who made this? This is like the best Peking duck I've ever had, tastes like I'm in a really expensive Chinese restaurant."

"I believe one of our cooks is from the somewhere in the Orient…" he responded casually, still slightly in awe with the feral way this woman ate.

For Margot's part, his archaic use of the term "the Orient" was was gave her pause but she was too hungry to think on it too long. Besides, despite her hunger, there were more pressing matters to consider.

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping her lips as politely as she could muster with a napkin at her place setting, "But you said earlier, that when you found me I had fallen from the sky? Did I really hear that right?"

"Aye, you don't remember?" the Captain asked, slicing into a cut of pork in a far more refined manner than she'd probably seen anyone ever use cutlery before. His table manners probably would have even made Sarah's hoity-toity fiance Rex jealous. "Smee reported that he spotted a fairy carrying you."

At this, Margot finally did burst out laughing, nearly spitting some of the fine wine that had been poured into a crystal glass for her. As usual, Hook silently regarded her until she had a chance to compose herself with those ever-so-subtly judgemental eyes that she was really coming to resent. She did not care to be continuously assessed like there was something wrong with her.

"I'm sorry… I'll buy Neverland, considering that I ended up in the tropics with no explination and those tropics turned into an arctic tundra in less than twenty minutes but I just… I'm sorry, fairies?"

"Well I'm not sure else how you would have gotten here, unless you can fly yourself?"

"With a good pilot, sure, I fly just fine."

"In this case it would appear that a fairy guide was your pilot, Miss Belle. And I implore you to remember who, exactly, it was and why they wanted you here," he said, his tone holding just a hint of malice and that constant suspicion.

"I don't know how I got here but it definitely wasn't via mystical creature!" she argued, growing more vehement by the second, even as she continued shoveling food into her mouth. Hell, her hungover stomach had needed something solid.

"Again you say you've heard of Neverland," Hook argued right back, "So surely you should be familiar with the fact that it's inhabited by many species of magical creatures, not just the fairies. Mermaids, unicorns…"

"Oh come on, not all of that can be true! What's next, there's dragons here too? Look, I don't believe in unicorns or mermaids. I don't believe in-" but Margot couldn't finish the thought. It was like the word fairies was physically stuck in her throat. She tried swallowing, noting that she really needed to slow down when she ate, and tried again, "I don't believe in-" She frowned when it happened again. It was completely beyond her control. With a determined frown she fisted her hands at her sides and shut her eyes tightly as she attempted to force out the words, "A fairy couldn't have brought me here. They aren't real. I don't believe in-"

James watched her with furrowed brows as realization began to dawn.

"Well my sweetling, it appears it doesn't matter if you believe in… them… or not," Hook said, avoiding that particular phrase for the first time in his life, "Because you are one."

"I'm sorry?" Margot asked, "I'm one what?"

"You're a fairy."

"Oh, shut the fuck up."

"You watch your tongue while you're a guest aboard my ship, girl! Or you'll soon find yourself a prisoner in my brig!" he spat, raising his Hook to point at her. Margot actually reeled backwards a bit; it must have been her imagination but he looked literally so angry that his eyes seemed to be turning from cold blue to angry crimson.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," she said immediately, putting her hands up defensively, "You're right that was rude, you just took me aback. I only meant… first you say a fairy brought me here, now you're saying I am one? Why on Earth would you think that?"

"Because the only people who are physically incapable of saying 'I don't believe in...them," Hook explained, gesturing towards her at the word them, "Are fairies themselves."

"So, are you a fairy?" she asked, skeptical.

"Of course not," he scoffed.

"Then why can't you say it?"

"Why did you claim to have heard the stories of Neverland if you haven't? Every time someone says that, a fairy falls down dead," James explained, "And for all we know, it could bloody well end up being you."

Well hey Captain Hook, that's pretty thoughtful! Or maybe just selfish. He does want to keep her alive to see if she's playing a part in Pan's war, after all. And maaaaybe he's already starting to be a teensy bit attracted? ;)

Our first solo Hook/Margot chapter! Thoughts? Miss the rest of the characters' plots? Want more Pan? Let me know! And please fav or follow or both!

Sorry for any major editing errors, in all chapters not just this one, I've been writing a lot of this on my phone and need to go back and make real edits.