Author's Note: This chapter is mostly fluff and smut. Thanks so much to those who review, follow and favorite. I truly appreciate it!

Chapter 4: Mine

They stepped back on the Jolly Roger that night after Louis guided them from Odalee's home back to town. Even though it had only been a few days, Emma already felt somewhat at home on the ship. In spite of his exhaustion, Hook wanted to savor a few moments alone with her. She was standing quietly, her hands braced on the sides of the boat as she watched the moonlight quiver on the water.

He stepped up behind her, his hand covering hers as he kissed her shoulder. She sighed, leaning a little more easily into his embrace each time it was offered. "Do you understand what your life would be like?" she asked, abruptly.

"What?" he questioned.

"If something were to work out…between you and me…It would never really be an easy life. It would never be quiet."

"You think the life of a pirate is peaceful and quiet? You think I'm hoping for that?"

"I don't know what you're hoping for. Do you ever dream of plundering your way to enough wealth so you can retire and sit on a beach swilling rum? I can't just tell magic and the entire town of Storybrooke that I'm done. I've tried, and it didn't work out."

"As I recall, I was one of those urging you to stay in Storybrooke…to not run from magic and your family. You were ready to retire from this life, I wasn't."

"I'm being honest."

"It would be our life," he answered matter-of-factly. "I've lived most of my life as a pirate. Although I'm a bit of a novice to life as a hero, I'm not a novice to a life of danger and adventure. Don't forget, I've been around a good deal longer than you. I've more experience."

His hand settled low on her stomach, holding her against him and silently reassuring her of his intended permanence.

"Are you sure that's the life you want? Life in Storybrooke? You know that if you're with me, my son will always be part of my life, so that means he'd be in yours," she continued.

He amusedly countered, "Are you concerned that I'd find life too boring, or not boring enough, love?"

"Henry is—"

Hook interrupted, "I like the lad. And he likes me well enough. So what's the problem?"

"He does. But it also means my parents and my new little brother and a whole fairytale book full of people."

"You seem to forget…there's a devastatingly handsome gentleman pictured in that book with you."

"Prince Charles," she said as she pressed her forehead against the side of his face. "He is a looker."

"That book…well, it shows quite a number of people who are destined to be together. True love, and all that. I think it would be exceedingly bad form for me to depart from this protocol and your family tradition when I know perfectly well who that Prince was."

"I just want you to know what you're getting in to."

"Perhaps you are the one who is worried about what she is getting in to," Hook suggested with some concern.

"No," she replied, turning around in his arms and pressing her fingertips to his chest. "I know how to take care of myself. If I was worried, I would have run already."

"Good. You've nothing to worry about. At least nothing that pertains to me."

He watched her eyes drift down as her hand pushed his shirt to the side. Her fingers found an aged, smooth line in his skin, a scar that was usually hidden behind the dark hair that dusted his chest. "What's this from?" she asked while her fingers persistently sought the exact edges of the mark.

"Took a fall as a lad. Hardly a tale of the glory of the high seas."

She opened his vest and shirt, finding a scar on his side that she'd noticed the night before. "And this one?"

With a look of the utmost seriousness and pride, he replied, "Defending this ship not long after I'd taken over as captain. She's worth all of the wounds I've collected over the years in her defense."

"You really love this boat. Don't you?"

"Aye."

"Must have hurt."

"A mere scratch," he said with a flashing eyebrow. Then, with a sudden look of sobriety, he added, "There is something that means more to me than this ship."

She looked at him, immediately overwhelmed by the depth of emotion in his eyes and laced through his words. Emma saw a few people on shore gawking at the unfamiliar vessel. Grateful for the distraction, she whispered, "Maybe we should move this party below deck."

Once he was in his cabin, he asked, challengingly, "So you want privacy so you can study me?"

"Study you?" she laughed. "You act like that's a bad thing. Isn't that part of getting to know someone? Sharing history, stories… After all, you can read me like an open book, right?"

"I can. Although I'd like to turn a few of the pages. There's more to know, I suspect. That is…if you'll let me peruse the rest of the novel."

"My turn tonight," she said with a playful grin as she ran her hand down his arm and weaved her fingers between his.

She stepped forward until her torso was pressed against him. She took his hand and the wrist below his hook and seductively moved them behind his back as she brought her lips so close that he could almost feel them. He watched as her smile turned from playful to mischievous. The look seemed oddly familiar, for some reason, and he felt a cold ring of metal clasp and tighten around his wrists. As he tried to pull forward, he realized the handcuffs that she had surreptitiously put on him were wound through a heavy chair that sat by the desk. He shook his head, "You can't possibly be serious. What the hell are you doing?" he asked, a little worriedly as he recalled their history. After all, he was pretty sure he could get his hook out from the trap if given enough time, even though the cuffs were tightly secured below the brace, but he wasn't sure what she was thinking. "I wouldn't advise going exploring on your own here, Swan. Don't try to leave me behind."

She moved with almost impossible slowness, teasingly coming forward until her lips gently brushed his. "I'm not going to leave you behind. I'm keeping you here where I can study you. I think this whole pirate thing has gone to my head, prisoner."

The tension in his chest seemed to relax, and he observed, "I've been shackled by you more times than any other person in all of my years. In a giant's lair, in the middle of New York City, in a hospital. I stand by my earlier suggestion that maybe this is your thing."

She smirked knowingly and nodded, "Maybe it is."

He was leaning partially back against the chair he was secured to. She could seduce him without even touching him, and she was proving that to him as they stood there. "Are you starting to get turned on?" Emma asked, playfully. She could see him translating an unfamiliar phrase in his head.

"Perhaps, temptress."

"You must really like me, if I excite you just by being close. I haven't even done anything yet," she teased.

"Well, the last few days have fueled my assumptions. Good things seem to come from the moments when you're this close to me. At least," he leaned forward and roughly but very briefly captured her lips, "when you're looking at me that way."

"What way?" she asked, touching the skin just above his hip.

"The way you are right now," he answered, smugly. "Admit it. You find me almost irresistible."

She pulled her hand back, "Do you want me to resist you? Because we both know I have before."

"I'd never hope for that, m'love," he answered with a grin, unwilling to look disappointed or concerned that she'd pulled away. He was trying not to fear retreats, because they always seemed to find their way back to each other again.

She thought for a second about leaving him down there, or at least making him worry a little as her competitive nature bubbled under her skin, but she really didn't want to run at that moment. "How about this one?" she asked, changing the subject and pointing to a spot low on his stomach as she moved a lantern closer to see.

"That one showed up after a long night at tavern," he confessed, "though the exact circumstances are lost on me."

"Blaming the rum?" she asked as she touched yet another of the marks on his skin that spoke to a long and adventurous past.

"Indeed," he said, his breath hitching hopefully when her fingers moved lower and followed the place where his pants met his skin. But she seemed to consider something, and her hands moved upward to his chest again.

The heel of her hand pressed against him, feeling the beat of his heart beneath his ribs. "How did you manage to keep your heart?" she asked.

"It's yours, Swan," he said under the assumption that she was speaking metaphorically.

"No I mean…your heart. You worked with Cora and Regina when she was proud to be the Evil Queen, obviously disappointing them both at least once or twice. But neither of them took your heart? Neither of them killed you or wanted to control you? Between the two of them, they had quite a collection."

"They both needed me to be me, to act as I would, more than they wanted to control me. And often they were trying to use me to get at each other, and, both would have probably recognized such trickery. But Cora had her hands on it before. It's not pleasant. Was it painful when she tried to take yours?"

"God, yea. It was horrible."

"But yours cannot be taken."

"I guess not."

"Not even by a pirate who's entirely devoted to winning it?" he only half teased, but she was too seriously considering something to joke with him at that moment.

"It's mine?" she asked with her hand still over his chest.

"Whether you want it or not," he replied with a nod.

"I don't know if this will work."

"What will work?"

She closed her eyes, splaying her fingers and summoning all of the power she had within. Her hand glowed white for a moment and then he felt the most intense warming sensation throughout his whole body. It was the counterpoint to the pain he'd felt when Cora reached into his chest and squeezed his heart. This was a feeling so opposite pain that it lacked adequate definition. Even after the light faded, warmth radiated from his chest and coursed through his veins with each pump of the muscle. She was blinking at her hands, trying to understand the breadth of the power that she had. She felt her magic growing more powerful, but she wasn't sure if it was because she was learning to use it or if it was because of this new place they had found.

"What was that?" he asked as he looked down.

"I don't know what we're going to be up against. Hopefully…it was a protection spell. So no one can rip out your heart. At least not easily."

"Thank you," he said, not nearly as stunned by her power as she was.

"Well, if it's mine, I need to make sure no one else can take it," she said confidently, trying to shrug off the intensity of what had just passed between them. She knew he must have sensed the depths of her emotion. Even if she wasn't prepared to say the words, it was obvious that he'd felt her feelings through the exchange.

"Emma…," he began, his tone full of things he wanted to say.

She wasn't ready to hear his words though. They had a journey before them. She was uncertain of the dangers they'd face, and she was already terrified of losing him. "Where were we?" she asked coquettishly.

Her fingers slipped down over his stomach, feeling the ripple of his muscles beneath her almost ticklish touch.

Sensing that she wasn't in the mood to discuss feelings and hoping beyond reason that she wasn't going to pull away, he flashed a sexy grin and answered, "I believe you're moving in the right direction."

She was already learning her way around his clothes, and she'd untied his laces and slid her hand into his pants as he watched. She palmed his cock, caressing his skin a little too gently for his liking. "Unshackle me," he ordered, sounding more the role of the demanding Captain than she'd heard in a while.

"Patience."

"Patience be damned. Let me touch you," he demanded, his resolve giving way to pleasure as she tightened her grip and started stroking him slowly but more firmly.

"We need to be careful."

"I will be as careful as you desire," he offered, his eyes seeking understanding in hers.

"I mean physically speaking, like birth control. I didn't exactly see any doctors or pharmacies around here."

"Pharmacy?"

"For medication. Or condoms. Anything to avoid a tiny bundle of surprise in nine months. Neither of us wants that. What did you use in your world?" she wondered as a question that she'd never thought to ask before suddenly seemed relevant.

"Tonics. Potions, depends on the realm and region," he replied like it was obvious. "We'll talk to the witch tomorrow," he whispered as he rocked his hips to seek relief for the desire that was becoming too much to ignore.

"Potions?" she skeptically countered.

"Probably more reliable than whatever the hell a pharmacy is," he answered, pulling at his cuffs when he tried to reach for her.

"For now, we need to be careful," she argued.

"Alright," he replied with surrender.

Emma smirked at the disappointed look on his face, and then she wrapped her arms around him. She pushed her hands down the back of his pants and grabbed his ass, pulling his body against hers while she kissed him. He loved the way she kissed, she was certain of that. Her hands wiggled over to his hips, and she started pushing his pants to the ground. She followed them down until she was kneeling before him. She lifted an eyebrow, making sure he was watching her.

She faintly kissed the head of his cock, letting her lips rub softly over his sensitive flesh. He breathed out her name as she slowly opened her lips and surrounded just the tip. Her lips and tongue moved over his smooth skin, tasting his flavor. Her hands surrounded him just as she took more of his length in her mouth. As he looked at her, she met his gaze, and he felt the electricity of his pleasure arc more intensely.

He moved his hips in time with the rhythm she was creating, not roughly, but just enough so he could feel himself slipping in and out of her mouth. She started to quicken her pace and he could feel the tension in his groin creating a yearning in his body that screamed for release. As he came, he actually shouted something in the garbled language of a man lost to bliss before all of the tension that had wrung through his muscles melted into relaxation.

He looked at her again, watching her lips skate over him until she was certain that he couldn't take any more. Standing before her, only partially unclothed and wanting her close, he requested, "Come here."

She stood, claiming a smug expression of her own before his hands suddenly moved out from behind his back. In one quick move, he had her wrist cuffed as he tightened the other end around the chair. She looked stunned that he had freed himself, and he explained, simply, "Pirate."

"If you were able to concentrate enough to pick a lock, I must have been doing something wrong."

"You were perfect," he complimented honestly. "I had the locks opened before you started."

"Seriously?" she giggled, inspecting her own wrist to weigh the chances that she could break free.

She remembered the key that had been in her pocket, but before she could reach it, he dangled it in front of her from his hook. He reminded her, again, "Pirate."

"If you're so good at escape, why did the shackles hold you in the giant's lair?"

"Less to do with the shackles, more to do with the giant." Looking at her with purpose, he came closer and roughly pulled her into an embrace. "Now," he said, "my turn."

He tugged open her shirt with his hook, ripping some of the strands of fabric before he exposed a breast that he eagerly focused his attention on. The welcoming softness of his mouth, the delicate scrape of his teeth, the rough scratch of his beard, all sensations that could have been overpowering, but they took a back seat to the needy desire she could feel from him. Beneath the gentleman, the man who'd shown patience, persistence and loyalty, was a strong, virile man who desired her with his entire being. As much as she appreciated the man he had become, she still liked the pirate who was so much a part of who he was.

His hand worked its way into her pants, moving immediately to the top of her thigh and pressing until she parted her legs for him. His fingers easily wiggled between her folds, feeling the wetness that coated her in response to their activities. Longing and love filled his eyes as he looked at her, watching pleasure wash over her expression as he rolled her clit between his fingers. He said nothing, instead listening to the sounds of her breath and her soft gasps and moans. His finger pressed into her core, desperate to get lost in her slick warmth and already missing the feeling of being buried inside her. With the heel of his hand rocking against her clit with each penetration, he patiently built her desire. "Tell me, Swan," he whispered as she moaned in his ear. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you," she easily admitted before she tipped her head back and pressed her pelvis against his hand.

"Tell me you are mine."

Feeling more exposed than she liked, she leaned forward and rested her forehead against his shoulder to avoid his gaze. She wanted to grab his shoulders with both hands and wrap her arms around his neck and hold him close as her orgasm swelled. But she settled for grabbing his shirt with her free hand while her head rested against him. She tried to kiss him when she knew he was going to ask the question again, but he turned his face just enough that she couldn't quite reach his lips.

"You do know I'm yours," he affirmed again, implying the question he'd already asked.

"God, I know," she loudly cried out, her delicate voice rasping as she came. Her free hand reached down, holding his hand against her while her hips twisted and turned as her body reached its climax and held the sensations for a few delicious moments before she settled into the warmth of his embrace and the familiarity she was already beginning to feel with him. "You know you mean so much to me, don't you?" she asked, sleepily.

He nodded, wanting more, but knowing that she wasn't ready to say more yet.

"Maybe I should keep you tied up here," he said while he kissed a trail from the cap of her shoulder to her ear. "I can see why you are so fond of restraining me."

She smiled at him, flicking her hand as the key for the handcuffs appeared, and she quickly released the lock. "Magic," she said, using the same tone to explain her freedom that he'd used when he attributed his own way out of the handcuffs to the simple word, 'pirate.'

They were both exhausted after their journey to this island and then the long walk to see Odalee. It wasn't long before they were asleep in his bed. It was the first full night they could spend together without having to get up and check the ship's direction. It was just the two of them, enjoying a rest that would too soon be over. Although Emma was guarded with words, she curled against him and held him in a way that was both reassuring and addictive.

As exhausted as he was, Hook still couldn't sleep. He was trying to enjoy the feeling of her sleeping against him, trying to remember everything about it, like bottling the memory so he could keep it forever. Who knew what the next journey would bring, and when they'd have a chance to sleep undisturbed again. He felt the intensity of her feelings for him when she'd tried to protect his heart. It was such a powerful, complete sensation. But part of him wanted her to confess her feelings in words so he was certain. It seemed like ages ago that he'd admitted that he loved her, and he wondered if she would ever be able to confess such feelings for him. He wondered if she could ever fully feel the same way. He didn't want to push her, didn't want to lose her because of his own impatience. So he tightened his arm around her to feel more of her body against his. He closed his eyes to listen to the sound of her breath, breathing in more deeply to remember her smell. Just before he fell asleep, he realized that, although he had been completely honest when he'd confessed his feelings before, he loved her so much more than he did when he'd first realized it. He wasn't done chasing this woman. Without a doubt, he knew he'd follow her on this adventure, every adventure, in any realm, for as long as she'd have his company.