Author's Note: Thanks to all of those who've shown an interest in my story! I'll try to update at least weekly, if not more frequently.

Chapter 2: Another Vision

Emma woke with a disoriented start. She wasn't sure exactly what she'd expected, but she didn't think she'd wake alone in Hook's cabin. His heavy leather coat was slung over a chair, but he was nowhere to be found. Just being in his cabin and in his bed, she felt surrounded by him. She hadn't had much of an opportunity to be on his ship. She sat up, slipping her feet back in her shoes and climbing up on deck.

For a few seconds, her heart rate accelerated to panicked levels when she looked around and didn't see him. Her lungs filled with air as she prepared to scream his name, and just before she spoke, she heard a rustling in the sails above. Taking a few steps back, she stared up, and there he was. Imagining him as a pirate wasn't strange, that was, after all, the man she'd known. It wasn't weird to see him at the helm, or wielding a sword to battle their latest threat. She was not, however, used to seeing him as an ordinary sailor.

He moved almost effortlessly along the masts, tugging ropes to adjust the sails without even thinking about his actions. For a man with only one hand, he moved with shocking grace in his duties. Emma was struck by the relaxed joy on his face. It was almost a window into his past as she realized that he hadn't always been the feared pirate Captain Hook or even Hook the Hero, and at one time, he had been just an ordinary sailor. He'd probably done some of these very same things as a boy. It was hard to imagine the man she'd come to know as a youth, learning these things for the first time.

Emma leaned back against the rails, fixated by what he was doing and the way that he moved, and then she stood upright with worry as she watched him leaning out precariously from the mast as he reached for the next rope with his hook. He was balanced on the edge of his toes, his hand gripping at the mast so he wouldn't fall, and every sense in her body focused on her worry for his safety. The next moment, in a flash of white, he appeared unsteadily but safely on the deck.

"What happened? Why am I down here?" he asked as he patted his chest and looked around to make sure he hadn't been transported somewhere else yet again. Her eyes were filled with relief and he cocked his head, "You did this? With magic?"

"I think so," she hesitantly admitted, looking at her hands.

"Were you trying to rescue me?" he smirked, sauntering closer.

"Sometimes instincts kick in and—"

"I can't blame you if your instinct is to protect someone you care for…" he said, fishing for a response. She looked away, still avoiding any such admission, so he reluctantly continued what he had been doing.

Walking back to the mast without any further delay, he started to climb back up. He didn't go far, sitting on one of the crossbeams and pulling out his telescope.

"What do you see?" she shouted up.

"Birds," he replied as he squinted at the scene ahead.

"Like regular…birds? Is that good or bad?"

"They're not flying monkeys, if that's what you're asking. It's good. Hopefully. Birds never stray far from land. I say we head toward land."

"Agreed," Emma replied, watching him drop back down from his perch.

She followed Hook to the front of the ship and saw a few sails and buckets set along an open space. "What's that for?" she asked.

He poured the buckets and basins together, handing her the one with the most water. "You wanted water to drink. I collected some during the night. It's not seawater, so you can drink it. Should probably still boil it once we have a fire."

"Thank you," she answered sincerely before she watched him turn to attend to his next task.

"Next we need to consider sustenance. There's a little cured and salted meat left and a few sea biscuits. Sadly I have no idea how long anything has been sitting here." Emma made a face of disgust and he replied, "That's what I thought you'd say. Care to try a hand at fishing?"

They spent the day heading steadily toward the land they could now vaguely see if they used his telescope. Hook showed her a few of the basics of sailing. He showed her how to start a fire in the ship's sandbox so they could boil water and heat food. As much as this wasn't a life she could imagine living every day, it was fun to play the part of seafarer.

As the sun began to set that evening, wrinkling her nose, she asked, "You don't have a shower hidden somewhere on this thing do you?"

"A shower? No."

"With our previous time travel, I don't even know how many days I've been wearing these clothes and I'd really love to clean up."

"You see that tub?" he asked, pointing to a large half barrel. "That…is the best that I can offer. Since I don't know what lurks in these waters below, I wouldn't recommend hopping in."

"How do we get the tub down to your cabin?"

"To my cabin? No. You don't want to haul the tub and then all of that water up and down."

"So pirates take baths in front of all the other pirates?" she laughed.

"Have you seen most of my former crew? I don't think anyone was interested in watching. And, honestly, most pirates aren't quite as interested in maintaining a dashing appearance as I am. I'll haul up a few buckets of seawater. We can heat some so your bath isn't so cold."

"What if something happens?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know…flying monkeys, wraiths, bands of pirates who attack the ship," she suggested.

"If any of those things attack the ship, I don't think going below deck is going to help all that much." He thought for a moment, and then offered, "Fine. I'll help you get the tub below deck right next to the ladder in the cargo hold. We can dump the water down into the tub from up here."

She smiled. "Do pirates have soap?"

Hook gathered a few old rags to dry with and a lump that he insisted was soap, but she wasn't so sure. Handing her a heap of linen, he said, "Should be some togs in there that'll suit you if you want to wash yours."

"Togs?"

"Clothes, love. Something to wear. Although if you prefer to let yourself air dry…I'm not opposed," he smirked.

By most standards, seawater in a barrel was a less than ideal bath, but it felt so good to scrub the dirt away from her body. When she was done, she washed her clothes as best as she could and hung them near the windows to dry. She found some loose linen pants and a shirt in the pile he'd given her. She nearly drowned in them, but at least they were clean and would keep her covered until her own clothes were dry. She began taking bucketfuls of dirty water and tossing them out the window of the cargo hold.

As she dumped one of the last buckets of water, she turned around and was startled by a bright blue spiral of smoke. It was accompanied by a loud sound, like a storm right there in the belly of the Jolly Roger. She stared into the expanse of blue smoke and watched as the center smoothed into a flat surface and a vision appeared. Emma knew she had not called this vision, and nothing made it clear to her what or who was causing it.

The image was similar to the one they'd seen the night before, but she did not see the same little girl that she'd seen in the mirror. The spinning vortex darkened from a blue to gray as she saw Hook, standing on the deck of the Jolly Roger. The scene was perfectly clear. He stepped up, walking out along the plank, prodded by the tip of another pirate's sword. She saw the image of Hook take a deep breath as he prepared to plunge into the ocean below. Before he could leap, she saw a pained expression cross his face and, as the vision backed away, she could see that the dark pirate who had been forcing him to walk the plank had stabbed Hook in the back with his sword, and then pushed him into the water. Emma gasped, covering her mouth in horror as tears filled her eyes. In the next moment, the image and the twirling smoke it could be seen in vanished, and everything was silent again.

"Killian!" Emma yelled as she quickly scaled the ladder and dashed on deck.

He was standing next to a few empty buckets. It was obvious that he'd taken a moment and cleaned himself while she was gone. "See how much faster it is to wash up with a few buckets on deck without having to haul all of that water-," he started to argue, but stopped when he saw how upset she was. "What happened? What's wrong?" he asked worriedly as he lunged to the ground for his hook and sword so he'd be prepared to fight, if necessary.

"You're okay?" she asked while he engaged his hook and waited for her explanation.

"Of course I'm okay. Tell me what happened!"

"You didn't hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"A vision or a sign…I don't know what it was. It was loud. I think something is trying to warn us."

"Maybe you just fell asleep."

"I was awake, standing up. I was emptying the water from the tub. It wasn't a dream," she adamantly answered.

"What did you see, love?"

She held his face between her hands, shaking her head as she tried to erase the image of his painful death from her mind. Her hands moved behind his neck, feeling the droplets of water trickling from his wet hair and the damp fabric at the collar of his shirt. His eyes looked different without dark lines painted around them, and she could see the concern he felt in the blue depths that gazed upon her.

She had no words to express how happy she was that he was still there before her, or the fear that she had at the thought of losing him, or the sorrowful ache that even the potential of his death caused her. Hook was terrifying both because of what he could become to her and how important he already was, but some part of her believed that just maybe he could be the man to help open her heart. She knew she couldn't lose him. "Nothing is going to happen to you," she said before she crushed a kiss to his lips.

The emotions surfaced almost like an unseen burst of energy, the intensity of their connection sending miniature shockwaves through each other and even their world. Placing delicate kisses against her lips and chin, he paused for a moment and said, "What, exactly, do you think is going to happen to me?"

"Nothing," she answered, determined not to let him worry with the future. She'd heard how dangerous knowledge of the future could be during their encounter with Rumpelstiltskin.

"You really aren't going to tell me?" he asked.

"Kiss me," she replied as she wrapped herself up in his embrace again.

He didn't hesitate, feeling the draw of being pulled in by the woman he'd wanted for so long. His fingers had been at the back of her neck, and she reached for his wrist to guide his hand. She dragged his palm down her shirt between her breasts, keeping his hand against her until she could guide his fingers under the billowy shirt that she wore.

He looked at her questioningly one last time, desperately wanting what he thought she was offering, but expecting to be pushed away as he so often had been. She touched him, sliding her fingers through the hair that dusted his chest before she started to open the buttons. A million questions went through his mind. As much as he wanted her, he didn't want her to see him as an impulsive mistake and push him away even more than she had before. He covered her hands under his as he held them to his chest. "Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked softly.

"Yes," she whispered, gasping softly as she pulled her hands from his chest and slid back against his body.

Opening his shirt, she let it fall on the ground, her hands running over his bare torso and over the bands that kept his prosthetic secured to his body. She stepped back for a moment, and she could see from his flinch that he thought she was walking away again, but standing before him, right on the deck of his ship, she took off the flowy shirt that she'd just put on, and stood before him. He actually looked away for a second, always the gentleman, at least when it came to her. She waited, and when he looked at her face, he found a subtle, welcoming smile, and finally began to take in the vision before him. She was shirtless, but wore a pair of linen pants often worn in his world beneath clothing or for bed. They were so big that they were tied with a long piece of fabric that barely kept the pants over her hips.

"You are so beautiful," he said, unable to stop the words.

His hand reached out for her, tracing the caps of her shoulders down the silky skin covering her femininely muscled arms. When he reached her hand, he took her fingers and pulled her toward him, the heat from their torsos igniting their mutual passions as they kissed again. She could feel the roughness of his chest against the softness of her breasts, her nipples forming tight peaks from the anticipation as she felt his body against hers. He pulled her back a few steps, toward the hatch to his cabin. Stepping carefully down a few rungs, he looked up at her, holding out his hand as she descended.

He reached up to latch the door above him while she was pinned between his body and the ladder. She wrapped a leg around his hip, her desire for him, for the man she'd been pushing away, building so intensely that she felt she had no other choice than to be with him. "Patience, love," he quietly demanded before he grabbed the rung with his hook so they wouldn't fall and held her close with his hand as he stepped the rest of the way down.

His beard scratched along the sensitive skin of her neck, down to the hollow above her collarbone. She heard him disengage his hook and drop it on the table, and she guessed that he was concerned that, in the heat of the moment, he may inadvertently hurt her. He put her feet back on the ground and easily untied the fabric that held her pants up and let them fall to the floor. She had no undergarments, her panties and bra had been washed with the rest of the clothes she had previously been wearing, so her temporary pirate's garments were the only things that she'd had on. His hesitation seemed to disappear now the he felt certain her consent was offered, or perhaps he was so caught up in a haze of love and lust that he couldn't be bothered with hesitation any longer. As soon as she was naked before him, beautifully vulnerable and exposed, he pulled her flush against him again. She felt his hand grab her ass, pulling her against him so there was no space between them. She felt his growing arousal pressing against her body through his pants, and heard the lusty sound of his groan when she rocked against his erection.

He lifted her higher, unlacing his own pants and removing them as quickly as possible. He nearly trembled with his desire for her, and the way he needed her so badly spurred her desire for him to even greater heights. He placed her down on his bed, climbing slowly over her and shivering when she wrapped her legs tightly around him and moaned, "God, Killian, I want you."

"I want you, too. More than you could know," he breathlessly replied.

He was taking his time with her, lavishing kisses on her, nipping and lapping at her breast, neck, tummy and ribs. She felt adored, venerated by this man that she'd been trying to protect herself from. Her body ached with need, so she rolled him, watching him smile at her impatience and insistence. She wasn't like other women that he'd known. She reached between them and wrapped her fingers around his cock. He was already completely hard, ready, and she started to stroke him, slowly pumping up and down along his shaft. He swallowed as his desire built and he tried to remain in control of his reactions.

Growing impatient himself, he touched her knee and followed up along her thighs, his calloused fingers moving steadily upward between her legs. His finger slipped between her folds and found an abundance of wetness, and he felt that surge of need intensify between his legs as he realized her physical desire equaled his own. Her fingers tightened around him as she lifted up and guided him into her body. He was surrounded by the warmest, tightest, most welcoming body that he'd ever remembered. She surrounded him, holding him firmly inside her as her body slowly adjusted to his presence. She didn't move for a bit, enjoying the feeling of this man, in her body at last. She'd wanted it just as much as she'd fought it.

Her hands pressed down on his shoulders to keep him flat on the bed. She wanted to be on top of him, wanted to take him and claim him for her own. His thumb moved carefully, parting her moist folds to press her clit. It was just the right amount of pressure and contact, because her womanhood throbbed with need already, but as he slowly circled her tiny, sensitive nub, she felt the need to move.

With her hands still braced on his shoulders, she leaned forward to kiss him as she started to undulate over him. He kept his handless wrist against her side. How he wished he had that missing hand so he could feel more of her. As her yearning swelled, her pace quickened. He could feel a flood of wetness from her body as she came closer to her release. No longer able to hold still, his hips began to move to meet her, thrusting up into her as she rode him. Her orgasm hit suddenly. Her fingers dug into his skin and she screamed, "God, Killian!" so loudly it almost surprised him.

Her inner muscles clamped down on him so hard he could barely move, but he continued, his own need strictly prohibiting him from stopping. He moved in and out of her body at a frantic pace as she squeezed all around him, the combination of so many stimuli making his senses hum with pleasure. She was gasping and moaning as the aftershocks of her orgasm continued each time he plunged into her body until he reached his peak and came with her name on his lips. He held her hips tightly against him as he twitched within her, finally shivering before he fell limply back into the mattress and dragged her down onto his chest.

They panted together as their bodies recovered, fingers entwining or travelling along expanses of skin and the curves and shapes of the person lying against them. "You're amazing, Swan," he said gently as he held her even closer.

"So are you," she answered as she pressed an ear to his chest and listened to his heart still thudding rapidly below.

After they rested for a few minutes, he leaned to the side so he could see her face and asked, "What was that?"

The answer he feared, of course, was the answer she'd given him after the first time she'd kissed him. He didn't want her to tell him this was a one-time thing, or something meaningless to her. It meant everything to him.

"What do you think it was?" she tentatively asked.

"I know what I think it was. I'd like to know what you think it was," he stated, trying to look as poised and pirate-like as he could.

She answered, seeing right through his attempt at calm "This was...the first time."

"A start?" he asked, hopefully.

Her teeth grazed her lip and she nodded, "I hope so."

They didn't say much else, and after Emma fell asleep, he reluctantly moved out from underneath her to make sure everything was alright on deck. He didn't want the ship to go off course while he was peacefully sleeping below. After he put pants back on, he walked over to the ladder and heard her ask, "Where are you going?"

"Making sure we're still on course, and everything is quiet, love. No cause for alarm," he answered. She looked sad and uncertain, so he explained, "I'll come back. You'd be surprised how far off course we could get in a few hours if I'm not paying attention. Or if a storm comes or…"

"Another ship," she nervously interrupted.

"Anything. Maybe we should pick up a small crew, if we can find one. Never turn your back on the sea. Believe me," he said as he returned to the bunk, leaned down and gave her a quick kiss, "I'd rather be down here with you. I'll just be gone for a few moments."

"I…," she started, hesitating slightly. "Killian, I…I don't want to lose you."

He smiled and bowed his head slightly as if he were honoring her wish. "You weren't able to get rid of me even when you wanted to. You will not lose me. I'd die before I'd let that happen."

As he disappeared up on deck, she said to herself, "That's exactly what I'm afraid of."