"Evening, Swan."

"What the hell are you doing in here?"

"Oh don't act so surprised, love, this town is bloody boring lately. Besides, a key under a welcome mat is essentially an invitation."

She stared for a moment in shock at the pirate who was sitting at her kitchen table calmly peeling an orange from her fruit bowl.

"So you just...what decided to drop by and treat your scurvy?"

"No, I came by to steal your heart and whisk you off into the sunset... but some thefts are easier than others."

"Returned to your life of crime already, Hook? We just returned from Neverland, can't a Sheriff get a break?"

"So tense, Swan, I'd be more than willing to help you relieve some of that -"

"Enough, get out of my apartment."

He stood and offered her a piece of the orange... Which she almost took, before she remembered that she was being offered her own food.

He turned to leave with a smirk. "Until next time, darling."

"Wait," she called and he turned a little too enthusiastically.

"I knew you couldn't resist my-"

"Give me the key, Hook."

"Alas, my heart weeps, that after all we've been through-"

"Now."

He sighed melodramatically and tossed the key to her giving a mock bow before sauntering out the door.

Bloody pirates. That key would not be going back under the mat...and she would probably have to get a new mat.

The next day she returned home to an orange sitting on her table with a note.

It's only fair. 15 seconds, Swan, not much of a challenge.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and she tried to convince herself that she was outraged that he had invaded her home again. But try as she might she couldn't find a single thing different from when she had left that morning. Thank God she had moved into her own place...she could only imagine the look on Mary Margaret's face if she discovered Hook was leaving notes inside Emma's apartment...Not to mention Charming's ...

She ate the orange anyway, no sense in letting him ruin it for her, but she would get him back.

The idea occurred to her as she was about to enter Granny's. She saw him sitting at the bar as usual and immediately turned around. With a wicked smile she made for the docks. Climbing aboard the Jolly Roger she made her way to his quarters. It was a simple lock, clearly he didn't expect her to return the favor.

All it took was a credit card and a bit of elbow grease for this one and she happily realized that she had made better time than he had. Once the door was open she realized awkwardly that the Sheriff had just broken into a pirate's room. Odd, but it was worth it to have bested him. Making for his desk she saw his spyglass sitting there. Pocketing it she left her own note.

10 seconds. Never start a game you can't win, pirate.

When she got back to Granny's she ordered her hot chocolate to go. As she left she handed Hook the spyglass without a word and walked out.

She heard him chuckling behind her but she didn't turn. She thought happily of the new lock she had installed on her front door the previous night. It wasn't heavy-duty or anything, but the guy only had one hand. It'd do the job just fine.

35 seconds, Swan. Did you enjoy being in my quarters, darling? I'd be glad to show you around sometime.

She thought for sure that one had needed two hands to pick.

Fine, this was war. She would best that one-handed pirate if she had to weld every door window and air duct closed herself.

She installed a new lock and plotted her revenge. He'd certainly have replaced that pathetic lock by now. Fortunately she still had her lock picking kit. So she went armed into battle the next day. Once she was sure he had taken up his usual position at Granny's she made her way back to the dock. Apparently he had not bothered to upgrade the lock on his cabin and the same credit card trick got her in.

She was surprisingly disappointed. Then she caught sight of another lock. This one on a wooden trunk at the foot of his bed. She didn't even need her lock picking kit, just a couple bobby pins for this one. She was beginning to wonder how he managed to keep any of his possessions from a crew full of pirates. Intimidation, probably.

She pulled it open and discovered that the pirate did apparently have more clothes than she expected. They were just all almost the same. Stealing a pair of leather pants was not an option so she dug around until she found something small enough to fit the bill. She found a scarf which took her mind straight to the top of a beanstalk...that wouldn't do either. Finally she found a metal clasp that had probably held a tunic closed at one point. She pushed the thought from her mind as she wrote her note.

They're nice quarters, definitely improved by your absence. 20 seconds, are you even trying?

She dropped the clasp in his lap as she picked up her drink, earning an outright laugh. "Better be careful, Sheriff," he whispered under his breath. "Someone might turn you in."

The smile fell from her face in an instant and Hook kicked himself for his blunder. "Swan," he started, but she rushed out of the diner without so much as acknowledging his words.

That had been stupid. Certainly he knew that such a reminder would do nothing but sting. Especially with Neal hovering around town trying to get her attention... He hoped she didn't think he had intended the barb...

I, Killian Jones, hereby grant Emma Swan full legal access to the vessel known as the Jolly Roger. So long as it remains within one hundred leagues of land, (I'm afraid I can't allow you to commandeer her Swan, gorgeous pirate that you are,) no legal charges may be laid upon her for her presence or removal of any item from said vessel.

It was signed with a beautiful flourish. Hook had certainly caught her off guard with his comment earlier that day and it had nearly crushed her competitive spirit entirely. It wasn't that she was truly afraid of going to jail for their little game, but it was simply a reminder of a what happened when she let her guard down. And yet here she was laughing at the evidence that he had broken into her apartment yet again. The game was still on. She was a little miffed that he hadn't told her how long this time had taken... then she smiled as she reasoned that he was probably embarrassed by how long it had taken with her new lock.

She was content with this thought as she made dinner, but afterwards as she moved into the living room she saw another piece of paper sitting on her couch.

40 seconds. Perhaps it is you who isn't really trying? First my scarf and now the clasp from my tunic. I shudder to think what you will remove next.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. Anger, of course, it was anger...what else would it be.

She was getting sick of replacing locks... but she would not be bested by him. There was no way a man with one hand could possibly be as good at picking locks as she was...it's a matter of pride now, she told herself firmly.

She was spending far too much time in Killian Jones' quarters she thought as she broke the lock open once more. She glanced around rapidly, she had to up her game. Her eyes settled on another trunk in the back corner of the room. Probably more clothes, but this one had a more sophisticated lock.

Emma settled down in front of it pulling out her kit and glancing at her watch. This was going to take a bit more time...she could only hope that her upgraded security would be just as frustrating to him. It had been some time since she had tried to jimmy this kind of lock, cars had been more her style. Working as a bounty hunter sometimes benefited from some searches of questionable legality though, so she was not exactly out of practice. Just as her watch clicked to the 2 minute mark the lock finally opened with a satisfying click.

Pulling up and flipping open the lid her jaw dropped. Somehow she never actually thought that pirates kept stashes of treasure in their quarters...apparently she was wrong. The crate was filled to bursting with coins and jewels. This would have made her day way back when... Lifting a single coin from the stash she wrote quickly.

2 minutes. Aren't you supposed to bury your treasure?

When she got to Granny's this time she was surprised to see that Killian didn't even bother with the pretense of not noticing her enter. He grinned ear to ear when she opened the door and offered her the customary hot chocolate which he had already ordered. In return she gave him the coin she had pilfered with a smirk.

When she returned to her room that night she was confused to see that there were none of the marks on her lock that indicated someone had tried to enter. There was no note on her kitchen table either, or on her couch. Did that mean she won? It didn't feel like winning if he just gave up...

When she saw the note wedged into the glass on the door to her bedroom she was not excited.

90 seconds. You must be mistaken. You discovered my loot, I still seek my treasure.

Her hands were shaking slightly as she let the note fall to the floor. She distracted herself by spending the next hour trying to figure out how he had gotten in, finally discovering an unlocked window in the bathroom that she knew had been closed when she left that morning. She wandered back out of the room, picking up the note that had fallen to the floor next to her bedroom. She had not failed to notice that the notes were being left in more and more intimate areas of her home. She opened her bedroom door, glancing around nervously as if expecting another note to inform her that he had entered her bedroom. As always not a single thing was out of place to indicate he had been there. She should be concerned, that the pirate was able to get in whenever he wanted...but why risk his life in Neverland for her son, why let her walk away from a kiss that left them both reeling, why...?

She spent the next hours revamping her security on every front. Windows were given new locks and a bar to keep them from sliding. New front door lock even more complicated than the one before...she seriously considered whether or not someplace in storybook could provide an alarm system. She spent several minutes trying to pick her own front door lock to determine if it was up to par and this time it was not lacking (and she had two hands and the proper tools.)

Finally convinced that her fortress could not be breached she got ready for bed.

Truly, she only opened the window because it was nice outside.

When she woke in the morning disappointed a chill passed through her. This had to stop.

She made her hot chocolate at home and avoided Granny's like the plague. It was one of those days that dragged on forever, was there no one in this town capable of a good old-fashioned crime, other than her of course? When her shift was finally over she gathered her belongings tiredly and locked up the station. Turning to leave she ran smack into something that smelled of leather and salt. Trying to push herself away she pointedly avoided looking up at the pirate. He clasped his arms firmly around her though whether it was to steady her or infuriate her was anyone's guess.

"Does this mean you yield, lass?" Not loosening his arms as she squirmed to escape his grip.

"This means I've decided to stop playing games with you Hook."

"I do wish you would."

She pushed him firmly away and took a step back. Suddenly there was a cry from down the street of "Fire!" She took the excuse to run in the opposite direction as the infuriating man. It turned out to be nothing of consequence; Some prankster had lit a trashcan on fire though it took Emma some time to calm the residents of the surrounding area and convince them that their homes were not about to be incinerated. When she finally got free she was tired and grouchy and just wanted to eat and sleep and have done with this frustrating day.

As she approached her apartment she slipped her hand into her pocket in search of her keys. They weren't there. She began to dig through her pockets frantically trying to determine where she had left them. (This was his fault, a few days ago she could have gotten in anyway.) Wanting to scream in irritation she slammed her hand against her own door and turned to walk back to the station eyes scanning the floor for the missing keys.

"Good night, love," a voice from behind her called and something cold was pressed into her hand. She glanced down into her hand seeing the key she had been searching for.

"You pick pocketed my keys?"" She cried finally looking up into twinkling blue eyes.

"Pirate, darling. And that's a bloody good lock."

"I should lock you up."

"You've done it before, what's stopping you now?"

"Enough, Hook. Just stop pretending."

"In what way do you think I'm deceiving you?"

She laughed. "Look, I'm grateful for what you did for us... For Henry. But I can't keep up this little flirtation. I know you're stuck here and you're bored, and messing with me is so much fun... But that's it. I'm done."

His eyes hardened. "You're right, Swan... I hope you can stand what you have asked for." And with that he turned and left.

She sighed in frustration. Why didn't he find someone else to play with... She wondered opening the door . She took down the window bars. She didn't think he would be breaking in again.

She got ready for bed early, exhaustion creeping over her, but when she opened the door to her bedroom her jaw dropped. On her desk was a wooden chest; simple but with an elaborate and beautiful lock taunting her. She sighed. He thought this would beat her? Please, the man hasn't a clue who he is dealing with. Next to the crate were several scraps of paper. The one on top read:

Perhaps you kept them for the same reason I did?

Underneath were all the notes he had left her which she had placed into her desk drawer. She could feel the heat reaching her cheeks again, this time in embarrassment. She had meant to throw them out... just hadn't gotten around to it yet, obviously.

She got to work on the chest and the minutes ticked by. Whatever was in here was quite precious to him, because the lock was finicky. It required all of her finesse and much more time than she anticipated before she began to feel everything fall into place. She stopped counting at 10 minutes. The lock finally sprang open and she restrained a cry of triumph. Pushing open the lid she expected to see more gold or jewels. Hell maybe even his lucky run stash. Not this. Another note on top read:

You need only have asked.

It was just papers and old junk, though. At least that's what she thought until she noticed the papers held familiar handwriting. Hers. Every note she had written was bound neatly together with a black ribbon sitting on top. Underneath was a spare bit of rope tied in a clumsy knot. From when he had taught Henry how to tie a slip knot. Next was a dark scarf that still smelled of blood and rum wrapped around an all too familiar compass. She didn't even know how he had gotten that back... Than her heart stopped as she pulled out the next item. A small handkerchief that was clean and simple and looked like it had been hand embroidered with a single letter. M.

Oh no, she thought, this couldn't be... Next she pulled out a sheath that looked suspiciously like it would fit Neal's cutlass perfectly. Star charts with a child's handwriting filling in the names. A small worn piece of leather with a military insignia and a white tunic that was falling apart at the seams. A portrait, black and white drawn in simple charcoal of a beautiful ebony haired woman with a pretty smile.

This was everything. Everything that meant something to him over the past three centuries and he had left it in her apartment. What was this new game? She and her son were here alongside Milah and Neal. What the hell did that even mean, she wondered slamming the top shut.

Of course she knew what it meant. It was not a game. The pirate kept these items close for three hundred years, would he really give them all up just to mess with her? Before she realized what she was doing she was out the door and halfway to the docks. As the shipyard came into view her heart clenched. The Jolly Roger was gone.

He was gone.

Of course he was gone. The moment she finally trusted someone they were always gone. She called his name, in the hopes that the ship might just be hidden again but there was nothing but an echo in reply.

She sank down onto a bench staring out into the water. So that was it then. She finally convinced him to leave his sentimentality behind him and run for the hills.

Why am I so easy to leave behind?

AN: Little diversion from my longer piece that I am currently working on. (For any of you still reading Dare to Hope I haven't abandoned it, I promise.) Decided to break this into two pieces since we change points of view in the next scene.