He was trying so hard to get her to talk to him, when what she really wanted was for him to talk, to admit that he recognized her, that he knew her. And frankly, climbing the beanstalk was difficult enough, she didn't need to add small talk to it.

"You're something of an open book." he was telling her, but the things he knew about her would only be perceptive if he didn't know her, and if he did know her, well - he was just reciting things she'd already told him. He knew she was an orphan, knew from the first time they met when she was barely old enough to know what the word meant. He knew she had a son from the conversations he'd surely overheard just hours before climbing the beanstalk. But the next question caught her off guard.

"Have you ever even been in love?" he asked with an intensity she wasn't sure she'd seen in him before and she was taken aback, for the first time wondering if he really was the man she'd met in her dreams, or if that man was just a copy of the Killian before her now. She wanted to tell him yes, to remind him of Neal, to remind him of the time she'd kissed him when believing there was something between them. But if he truly wasn't the man she remembered, if he truly didn't remember her the way she remembered him, then she had to treat him as any other stranger and if he was a stranger, she wouldn't trust him with her vulnerabilities.

"No," she said with a sad smile, "I've never been in love." and they continued the climb.

When they reached the top of the beanstalk, Emma was struck by the severity of the massacre that had taken place there. She walked through it in a daze before cool metal was around her wrist pulling her toward him. She had cut her hand on the beanstalk and he was telling her that giants can smell blood before tending to the wound. She thought she saw something in his eyes then as he wrapped the scarf gently around her hand, pulling it tight with his teeth. If he recognized her, he covered it up with shameless flirting but something caught her eye and she blinked at his arm, breaking herself from whatever spell she'd succumbed to in his eyes.

"Who's Milah, on the tattoo?" she asked, her gaze resting on the inked heart on his forearm, there was a dagger through it and a banner across it where the name rested. His whole demeanor changed as he pulled down his sleeve to cover the reminder of some woman, someone she'd never heard of before during her visits to the enchanted forest.

When he looked up at her again, his eyes were guarded and his tone cool. The flirting and teasing manner that he had used up until this point had vanished and he brushed by her as it all clicked into place. This was the other part of his half-truth, the part that had been a lie by omission. Milah was the woman Killian had loved. Not you, a selfish voice inside her mind taunted, but she pushed it back.

"Rumplestiltskin, he took more than your hand from you didn't he?" she asked and he turned to her again, his face hard. "That's why you wanna kill him." the last part was a statement rather than a question and she saw him nod slightly.

"For someone who's never been in love, you're quite perceptive aren't you?" he asked without a hint of humor, they weren't playing anymore.

She wanted to tell him he could have told her about it twelve years ago, she wanted to tell him she would have understood. She wanted to ask why he didn't trust her, and yell at him for pushing her away all those years ago. But she couldn't. It wasn't time to reveal herself, but maybe she could give him a hint.

"Maybe I was, once" she paused making sure to meet his eyes pointedly "or twice." she said in barely a whisper and his face softened but he said nothing, just waited for her to walk forward before they turned together to catch themselves a giant.

"I don't mean to upset you, Emma" he called from the ground minutes later," but I think we make quite the team." and she looked from him to the passed out giant and felt something tighten in her chest as she remembered a similar statement from a long time ago.

'How old are you, Miss Swan?' he asked her with a kind smile one day when they were walking through the Enchanted Forest of her dreams.

'I'm six and three quarters.' she told him, bouncing along the path as though she hadn't a trouble in the world, because here in this place it seemed that she didn't… though she was a bit hungry.

'Killian, is there anything to eat around here?' she asked him and waited expectantly for what she hoped was a yes.

'Aye, little lass, the trees here are ripe with the juiciest fruits you can imagine, but I'll need your help to get them.' he told her.

'Because you can't climb because you only have one hand?' she asked him innocently, and then wondered if that was one of those questions you weren't supposed to ask adults.

'Exactly so, love. So I will show you the trees and help you up and you can throw the fruit down to me so I can catch it and make sure it doesn't fall on the ground and bruise.' he explained.

'Got it!' she replied, excited about the idea of climbing and especially about the idea of eating fresh fruit, which she never got at home.

After she had climbed two different trees and thrown down at least ten each of apples and peaches, he called up and told her it was time to enjoy them. She peered over the side of the branch that she was sitting on and he grinned up at her.

'You know, Emma, I think we make quite the team.' he mused and she had to agree.

She recovered from the memory quickly and gave him a sideways glance, hoping he hadn't caught her hesitation. They entered the giant's home, and were met with piles of treasure along every wall, and when Hook walked a little too close to a trip wire Emma grabbed him and pulled him back into her.

"It's about bloody time," he said in a low voice, wrapping his arms tight around her and she once again saw something pass across his face that she wanted to believe was recognition, a fleeting memory, something, before it was gone. Every inch of her body that was touching his was acutely aware of the contact, even with heavy leather between them. She searched his eyes for a moment too long before pushing against his chest to - reluctantly - free herself from his arms.

She pointed out the trip wire and he made a joke about her not needing to pretend if she wanted to touch him. For just a second she thought she did want to touch him. But she was still angry with him, and she still didn't know if this was all an act.

"Let's find the compass and go home." she said, and he merely nodded before they continued their search.