Another week without an episode (actually 2 weeks, sorry). So here's another little bit I came up with, again prompted by the season 3 finale, imagining what was going through Killian's head aboard the Rolly Joger ;) I love how much Killian has changed, and that's what inspired this. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT or any of the affiliated characters

20. Bastard

"Now where might you be going?" The words were unsteady and slightly slurred, but the voice was one Killian knew all to well. "I do hope you're not having second thoughts."

"No," Emma replied quickly. "Just got tired of waiting."

Then she tugged the lapel of his coat, roughly pulling him towards her, and smashed her lips against his. And she didn't stop kissing him. They swayed, lips apparently glued together, as Emma attempted to move him away from the ladder, giving Killian an opportunity to escape unnoticed. He paused in his discreet exit, and Emma caught his gaze, silently begging him to just GO.

But he couldn't. He knew it wasn't real, knew it was just a distraction, but that did absolutely nothing to calm the anger boiling in the pit of his stomach. The heat of it rose up his neck and settled on his face in an expression of absolute contempt.

That bastard.

Somewhere in the back of Killian's mind came a voice that reminded him, That's you.

But it wasn't.

That was his old self - the vulgar, inconsiderate, sweet-talking charmer. He remembered the lies he had told and the excuses he had made, the anger at the world and the complete and utter lack of caring about the people in it. He and the man before him were two completely different people.

The man did not deserve his crew.

The man did not deserve his ship.

And, the man most certainly did not deserve his girl or, chronologically speaking, his first kiss with her.

He assumed the fact that he still wasn't gone was making Emma panic, but he couldn't be certain; his vision seemed to be tinted red, and though he heard the anxiety in her laugh, the man's words were louder. "My apologies," he slurred. "A woman as beautiful as you deserves my full and prompt attention."

How many times had he used that line? He wouldn't have been able to count, seeing as he had been too drunk to remember half of those occurrences. He just knew the general procession of events: Emma would cease to be Emma. He might be able to recall her hair color, but no more than that. She would become just another nameless, faceless, meaningless conquest.

And right now, he was going in for a second kiss.

A line had to be drawn somewhere.

Killian put his hook on the man's shoulder.

This was just as much for Emma as it was for himself.

The man turned, eyes widening in recognition and confusion.

Killian slammed his fist into the man's jaw, and watched with pleasure as he collapsed.

Damn, that felt good.

"Are you kidding me?" Emma exclaimed, her voice rising an octave. "How is that not going to have consequences?"

Oh, sure. The guy on the floor gets kissed, and he gets yelled at. "He was asking for it," Killian explained. "Like I said, he'll blame the rum. Now let's get out of here."

Satisfaction dulled the pain in the knuckles of his right hand, but didn't stop him from wanting to throw another punch. Having had his fair share of them, Killian had never wished a hangover on anyone. But as he took one last look at his former bastard self on the floor, he had never wished for anything more fervently.

Thanks for reading! As always, I take requests if there's anything you'd like to see during this hiatus!