CHAPTER 3

WAISTCOAT (noun) – A close-fitting waist length garment, typically having no sleeves or collar and buttoning down the front, worn especially by men over a shirt and under a jacket.

Emma sat on the couch at Granny's place trying to concentrate on what was being said. Usually when she attended an important meeting such as this, her mind was solely focussed on the problem at hand. She never had any trouble blocking out unwanted thoughts or random musings because she knew that it could cost someone their life if she missed even the slightest detail of a plan.

Except tonight was different.

Tonight her gaze kept surreptitiously sliding over to the pirate standing by the window, or more specifically, his new waistcoat.

She'd never seen him in anything but all black before and the splash of red that now adorned his torso seemed to draw her attention like a moth to a flame. She glanced at his face and saw by his furrowed brow that he was listening intently to what David was saying and it reminded her that she should be doing the same.

With a determined effort she dragged her gaze away from him and tried to tune into her father's voice but instead her mind wandered back to a couple of evenings before when she asked Hook to join her for dinner. It had been an impulsive reaction to all that had happened, not only that day but a week before that too.

Losing Neal had hurt terribly, more so because she knew she'd had a hand in his demise but she didn't feel guilty about her choice, it was the right thing to do. She knew that now and she'd made peace with her decision.

Unfortunately, while she was still working through her pain, she'd lashed out at those around her and Hook had been the main recipient. She'd known what she was doing but hadn't been able to stop herself, especially when he seemingly kept putting himself in harms way. The day the flying monkeys attacked had been the final straw. The pure heartache and terror she'd felt when Hook had willingly risked his own life to save her had been overwhelming. In that one horrifying moment it had hit her just how much she would lose if he weren't around anymore.

And it had frightened the hell out of her.

The depth and strength of her feelings had come as a shock. She knew she'd been slowly letting down her walls around him, but even she hadn't realised quite how much until that moment.

Still, just because she acknowledged to herself that she more than liked the pirate, that didn't mean she was going to jump in to any kind of a relationship with him straight away. She was still far too cautious to do that, been hurt too many times but she also knew she couldn't ignore how she felt any longer either.

And that's where her quandary lay; because while her head was telling her to take baby steps, her heart was demanding she just take him…period.

It was a constant battle within her but one her head fought against valiantly even though she was finding herself siding with her heart more and more. Especially when he was dressed like that she decided as her eyes started drifting over in Hook's direction again.

What the hell was it about that waistcoat that had her insides do a little dance every time she looked at it?

Why couldn't she quell this crazy urge to run her hands all over the soft looking fabric and push that ridiculously long coat of his off his shoulders and onto the floor?

Hook shifted slightly, startling her out of her reverie and her gaze flew up to his face to see him staring back at her with a slightly bemused expression. She felt a surge of heat flood her cheeks but before she could look away, she saw a spark of realisation light the pirate's eyes and a knowing grin spread across his face.

Emma's mouth tightened in aggravation at being caught and she shot him a glare before returning her attention fully, she was relieved to find, back to her father.

The meeting concluded twenty minutes later with nothing being resolved, as was the norm lately. No one seemed to have any new ideas for defeating Zelena and Emma was beginning to feel the burden of her Saviour role weighing heavily upon her shoulders. It was down to her to think of something but try as she might, she kept coming up empty.

"Fancy a quick one, love?" Hook suddenly suggested in a low voice right by her ear.

Emma rolled her eyes and found she had to suppress a smile at his obvious innuendo. She should have expected that he would seek her out. He seemed to have a knack of materialising out of thin air right into her personal space whenever she was feeling particularly low.

"I assume you're offering me a drink?" she clarified coolly as she turned her head and arched a brow to look at him.

"What else would I mean?" he countered, his expression the picture of pure innocence.

Emma held his gaze a moment then let out a sigh and shrugged her shoulders.

"Sure, why not?"

Hook smiled then stood back to let her pass. He watched her put on her red jacket then walk away to let David know what she was doing. The pirate received a look from the Prince that told him to keep his daughter safe. Hook gave him a brief nod then followed Emma outside.

They walked along the street in relative silence, keeping a wary eye out for Zelena or any of her winged spies. Thankfully they reached The Rabbit Hole without mishap and were soon ensconced at a table to the rear of the place that offered them some privacy to talk without being overheard.

Hook poured Emma out a large glass of his favourite rum then saw to his own before placing the bottle down with a thump in the middle of the table. Settling back in his chair, he raised his glass in salute then closed his eyes and took a large swallow, savouring the warmth of the spicy alcohol as it slid down his throat.

With her own glass halfway to her mouth, Emma paused and watched his enjoyment in fascination. From the long line of his neck as it arched back, to the movement of his throat and the way his tongue darted out to run slowly over his lips so that he could relish every single last drop followed by a low hum of satisfaction that announced he was done.

Just as he opened his eyes, Emma broke free of her daze and quickly downed her own glass. She welcomed the burn, although even that wasn't quite enough to blot out the fact that she'd just found his simple act of having a drink more of a turn on than she would ever admit to.

"Nothing like a spot of rum to get the juices flowing, eh, Swan?"

Her gaze flew to his but as far as she could tell there didn't seem to be anything more behind his words than face value and she found herself nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, it's got quite a kick," she muttered.

"Another?" he asked, picking up the bottle again.

"Uh, no, thanks," she declined with a shake of her head.

Hook quirked an eyebrow but didn't push, choosing to pour himself another healthy glass instead.

Emma purposefully looked away this time as he raised his glass. She already ogled him quite enough for one evening. Unfortunately for her, instead of staring down at the table or something equally as mundane, her traitorous heart overruled her brain and her gaze latched onto his red waistcoat once more.

Up close the material looked like velvet and the urge to touch it came back anew as she suddenly wondered where he'd obtained the garment.

"Is that new?" she blurted out curiously, pointing at his waistcoat.

Hook was surprised at her question and put his glass back on the table. He knew that Emma had noticed his change of attire but he hadn't expected her to mention it and quite frankly, he wished she hadn't. Letting out a sigh he looked down at his clothing with a pained expression. He hadn't wanted to wear the red one, there were too many bad memories tied up with it; a past he dearly wanted to put behind him, but he'd felt naked without his black leather and as that was currently at the tailor's being mended after his tussle with one of Zelena's minions, he'd reluctantly put it on.

"No," he replied quietly as he looked back up at her and forced a smile. "Quite the opposite."

Emma looked at his face clearly seeing the pain in his eyes and felt a pang of sadness for what the pirate must have been through during his long life. He'd never told her all the details, just odd comments here and there. They were very much alike when it came to opening themselves up. Always ready to hear but not to tell. Both deflected questions when things became too painful. It was like staring in a mirror at times.

"Well, I like it. It suits you," she told him with a sincere smile.

Usually Hook would have retorted with a smug comeback about how he already knew that as she'd not been able to keep her eyes off of him during the meeting, but this time it just felt wrong. He understood she was offering him some comfort, although she knew not what for and as much as he felt he didn't deserve it, just this once he dearly wanted to accept it. He needed to.

"Perhaps I will wear it more often then," he finally conceded with a small, but this time genuine smile of his own.

They stared at each other for a moment then Emma looked down and pushed her glass towards him.

"One more then I'd better get back."

Hook took her lead and poured out a generous helping of the spicy liquid for them both then raised his glass and clinked it against hers.

"Bottoms up, Swan," he toasted with a wink.

"Down the hatch," she countered wryly.

His deep laugh brought forth a grin of her own and Emma decided that maybe taking baby steps wasn't going to be such a bad thing after all.

END CHAPTER 3