Part Three

"You both must have a terrible case of cabin fever by now," Pan's voice commented through the speakers overhead. "How would you feel about the chance to go outside and get some fresh air?"

"What's the catch?" Killian asked, trying to keep any notes of eagerness he felt over the prospect out of his tone.

"Pan says…" His dramatic pauses were starting to lose their effect, "Tell each other your worst sexual experience for the opportunity of going outside."

"That's it?" Emma snorted. "He's losing his touch if his goal is to make these difficult for us to answer. The only difficult part is choosing which one is the worst."

"My first experience was the worst," Killian replied. As it was prone to do, the memory spiked his anxiety and caused his panic to rise until he remembered the technique that helped alleviate it. Closing his eyes, he focused on keeping his breathing even, but before he could run through the steps that grounded him, Emma responded with a fresh quip.

"What? Were you too eager? A little premature ejaculation action? Tell me the girl didn't laugh at you… or is that why it was the worst?"

"No," he answered, wetting his lips and setting his resolve as he opened his eyes and confessed, "It's because it wasn't my choice." Emma's face fell, all humor and sarcasm cast aside as the reality of his words sank in. "I was nine and the other person was my foster father."

"Stop. Don't," Emma said, holding up her hand to stall his words. "Why?" she asked in a hushed whisper. "Why would you… you could have just lied … or picked something else."

He'd considered doing just that, but didn't want to take the chance of Pan seeing right through him if he had. "Do you really think if Pan can get a hold of your juvie record and my military service file that he can't find the complaint I issued as a child when I reported Silver, my foster father, after he sexually assaulted me?" Emma's eyes snapped shut and her hand covered her mouth as though she might be trying to hold back the bile working its way up her throat. "It's alright, Swan. I've managed to make my peace with it."

"How?" she exclaimed. "How could anyone ever-"

"Years of therapy, love." Stepping forward, he cupped her face in his hands and gave her a lop-sided smile. "Or did you think I was joking when I suggested it for the two of us?"

"Years? How the hell did you manage to get years of therapy through the state-"

"It was my next foster father, actually," he interjected, leading them over to the edge of the bed where they both sat before he continued. "When I arrived at his home, there was a back-log and a waiting list for therapists offered by the system. Seeing how badly I needed it, he found me an independent therapist and paid out of pocket for the entire duration of my stay with him."

"Which was years?"

"Longest placement I'd ever had." A wistful expression settled over his features. "The last one, too. Nemo fostered me until Liam was old enough to take responsibility for me himself." Reaching up, he scratched behind his ear and cast a furtive glance her way. "I take it you never… while in the system yourself, no one ever tried or managed to…"

"No," she replied, alleviating him of his concerns. "But I knew kids who had."

"I'm glad," Killian sighed, before clarifying. "Not for them, of course, but that you… I'm glad."

Emma glanced up at the screen and Killian could read in her expression the same question he was pondering. Would that be enough to satisfy his end of the bargain? It seemed she was willing to take the chance that it was, and began to make good on her own.

"I think I was too young and naive to really understand just how bad sex with Neal was, but the first guy I was with after him made it pretty clear."

"How so?"

"I just remember how the guy kept asking me what I liked or whether I was enjoying what he was doing, wanting my input, but…" She shook her head, then shrugged. "I didn't know how to answer him, so eventually he stopped asking and just… got on with it. I just laid there and let him do what he wanted, and after he left I felt… used. Taken advantage of." Killian took her hand and gave it a light squeeze of support, knowing how she must have connected those feelings to the man who had used and taken advantage of her in the worst possible way. "Neal never asked me what I liked or what I wanted. It never mattered to him if I got off or not, but I always lied and told him I had. It wasn't even until that guy went down on me that I realized Neal had never given me an orgasm, so… at least I got something out of that experience. Still…"

"It was the worst because it put the others in the proper context for the first time."

"Yeah."

Killian squeezed her hand again and said, "Let's hope the worst is behind us."

A small smile began to lift the corners of her mouth until a thought took root. The same thought that was currently imbedding itself within his own mind, most likely.

Not bloody likely if Pan has anything to say about it.

~/~

The view from the rooftop terrace went on for miles in all directions. While breathtaking, it extinguished another spark of hope Killian had tried to maintain. They were quite literally in the middle of nowhere. No one to call out to. No refuge to run to should they manage to escape. Only a vast plain of nothingness surrounded the building, with the only oasis being the garden terrace he and Swan had been led to.

An oasis Killian couldn't help but take in, filling his lungs with the fresh air as the aromatics of the pungent garden flowers tickled his sinuses. Glancing over, he smiled at the look of pure contentment on Swan's face as she soaked up the sun, her neck craned back as far as it could go so every inch of her creamy complexion was kissed by its rays.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?"

Even out here Pan's voice followed them, echoing from the speakers attached to a pole that was nearly camouflaged by the potted trees lining the western wall.

"Don't you think it would make for a nice picnic spot?"

"Oh, just get on with it," Emma snapped, the brief serenity broken by the agitation that always accompanied Pan's little games.

"Pan says, the price for enjoying a picnic out here on the terrace is… a kiss."

Killian's eyes cut over to the two masked figures, Pan's Lost Ones, who had escorted them outside. "Just to be clear," he said. "You mean the price is that we kiss one another… Emma and me?"

"Naturally," Pan stated. "Who else?"

"Who else, indeed," Killian muttered under his breath. He would put nothing past their demented host at this point, so he felt it prudent to be sure there were no misconceptions in his statements. Brushing aside his suspicions and irritations, Killian looked over at Emma who was already staring up at him expectantly. Searching her eyes, he made sure they were in agreement before leaning over and pressing his lips to hers.

It was a chaste thing, both of them hyper aware of the Lost Ones standing by, watching them, yet it held no less of the promise he'd felt in their first kiss. The fire. The intensity. The passion. All of that was still present, simmering just beneath the surface.

Out of the corner of his eye, Killian caught movement as he pulled away. One of the Lost Ones was approaching, a blanket tucked under one arm that was also carrying a basket. In his other hand was the baton Killian had been eyeing, trying to determine what sort of weapon it was. Before he could get a good enough look, the basket was thrust at him. Killian took it from the man who then handed the blanket over to Emma before returning to his post.

Determining a spot in the shade - and some distance away from their chaperones - would be the ideal place to set up, they made quick work of spreading out the blanket and unpacking the basket. It surprised neither of them that it was filled with some of their favorite foods, but Pan's continued efforts to prove how much he knew about them was still unnerving. In an effort to cast off the pall and maybe stick it to their host who clearly arranged all of this just to make for another awkward experience, Killian turned to Emma and raised his beer with a proposition.

"Let's forget about Pan," he said. "About the circumstances under which we met and all of the terrible things he's put us through so far and just… enjoy this. This moment. Together."

"Agreed," Emma said, clinking her bottle against his before bringing it to her lips. Lips he would very much like to feel against his again.

They ate at their leisure, silently at first, still tentative about revealing anything that might be used against them later. Eventually, they both seemed to acknowledge that Pan would find something to use against them regardless, so they may as well drop their guard a little and take advantage of the reward they'd earned.

Laying on their backs and staring up at the clouds, they shared sweet memories and humorous anecdotes with one another. When a story about how Killian had once inadvertently walked in on Liam and his date whilst engaging in enjoyable activities pulled a laugh from Swan, his breath got caught in his lungs. He'd never heard her laugh before, not truly, not like that. Not in the way that made her back arch off the blanket and her shoulders shake. Not in the way that made her nose scrunch so adorably, or made her eyes glisten when they opened back up and met his. Not in the way that left her looking so carefree and relaxed, as though she could stay in this moment forever and be perfectly content. With him.

"What?" Emma asked, her eyes bouncing between his, trying to read whatever expression it was that had currently taken up residence on his face.

"Nothing," he murmured, rolling onto his side and propping his head in his hand. "I'm just… happy. And I suppose it sort of surprised me."

"Yeah, I get that," she replied.

Lifting her hand, she brought it halfway towards his head, then stopped, as though she'd just realized her intentions. After a quick pause, she continued on with the motion, brushing her fingers through his hair as she swept it off his forehead. Killian's eyes fluttered shut when she began to toy with the wisps along the nape of his neck, the light scratch of her nails against his skin sending a current of pleasure down his spine.

"Killian?"

"Aye."

"Thank you."

Opening his eyes, he stared down at her. The way her hair was fanned out beneath her, shimmering like gold in the filtered rays that streaked in through the canopy above, the way her skin was flushed a soft pink, maybe from the heat of the afternoon or something else entirely, and the way her tongue slipped between her lips, wetting them in a way that made them appear even softer and more supple, was a distraction that caused his response to be not only delayed, but tight and strained sounding as well.

"For what?"

"For this," she said. "For going through this with me. For helping me through it. For… having my back and looking out for-"

"There's no need to thank me, Swan. We're in this together, you and I."

"That's just it," she protested. "Anyone else might have been only out for themselves, without any thought of what I wanted or was willing to do. But from day one, you've seen us as a team. Working together."

"Why does that surprise you so?" Killian asked, even though he knew enough about her past to deduce the reason.

"I guess I'm just… I'm not used to someone putting me first." Killian opened his mouth, but she stalled his words with her own. "And as much as I appreciate it, as much as I never realized how… valuable that would be to me, I want you to know that you don't always have to."

"But Swan, I-"

"No, I mean it," she said, cutting him off. "If there is ever a moment, ever a Pan Says that is too much for you to bear, then please don't feel like you have to go through with it for my sake."

Killian chewed on her words for a moment, then replied. "As you wish, love. But the same goes for you. Just as we agreed at the beginning, we won't force the other to do anything we aren't both willing to do."

"And just like we've agreed since then," she added. "We have each other's consent. To do whatever we have to in order to get through this together, or spare one another a punishment, or ensure the other's safety. Right?"

"Aye," Killian affirmed, understanding her meaning. Their consent worked both ways. He'd given his to ensure Emma could use it to protect herself, but now she was telling him that she intended to do the same in regards to him.

"Let's not spoil whatever time we have left out here by worrying over what may come," Killian said, hoping to pull her thoughts from the quagmire they'd soon have to return to. "I can think of many other things I'd rather focus our energy on."

"Oh?" Emma replied with an inquisitive, yet coy tone. Her hand slid from the back of his neck down to his chest as her eyes flicked up to his. "What sort of things?"

This new, flirty demeanor had Killian's brows raising. Unsure as to whether she was just being playful, or was, perhaps, testing the waters between them, Killian chose to meet her unspoken challenge with a more direct one of his own.

"Well, while I do normally prefer to engage in more enjoyable activities with a woman on her back…" He smiled when Emma giggled, pulled her bottom lip suggestively between her teeth, and hitched her brows at him. With his attention set on her mouth, he murmured, "Right now, I'd very much like to kiss you again."

Emma threaded her fingers back into his hair and gently pulled him towards her. Before their lips could meet, a jolt of electricity shot agonizing pain through Killian's shoulder.

"Bloody hell!" he screamed, jerking away from both Emma and the Lost One - whose presence he now remembered - standing over them both with what Killian had determined was a cattle prod clutched in his fist. Pulling Emma up with him to their feet, he forced her behind him as he confronted the ominous minion. "What the fuck was that for?"

"Ah, ah…" Pan said over the sound system. "I didn't say Pan says."

Killian balked as Emma gasped, both of them coming to the same realization simultaneously. Now that Pan had gotten them to a place where they were comfortable with each other, with sharing certain intimacies, he wasn't going to allow them to have full control over those choices anymore than he did any others.

"Don't get ahead of the game," Pan warned. "Round Two will continue in due course. Take them back inside."