AN: The second that vintage Chevy Chevelle made its appearance in 4x19, I had a new OTP. This takes place in some vague "future time", after the bad thing that's been hinted at happens in the season finale and after everything's put back to rights again, as we know it eventually will be. I allude to the bad thing, but I make no predictions, since that's not really the point of this. I just wanted to write about Killian and a bad-ass car.

Emma had always been impressed by Killian's adaptability. As he'd settled into his life in Storybrooke and she slowly kitted him out with the necessities of modern life in this realm, he took most things in stride. After some initial confusion over his cell phone, he'd eventually entered into the spirit of the thing with gusto, texting her all day long, sometimes sweet, sometimes raunchy. Once he'd shed the leather pirate coat, he rapidly collected an impressive number of flashy floral shirts and other bits of modern dress. He loved TV; Deadliest Catch, which wasn't really a surprise, and Chopped, which was a mystery. And he took to Henry's video games like a duck to water. They had an epic game of Call of Duty that had been raging for weeks.

The one thing he didn't get was cars. He rode in them when necessary, but he preferred to walk, and since Storybrooke was tiny, he could get most places he needed to go on foot. When she or David had occasionally suggested that they teach him to drive, he made a face and refused.

"There's craft and elegance to a ship, lass. Cars are nothing but a collection of noisy metal bits," he'd grouse.

That all changed when she came back to Storybrooke with the Chevelle.

The minute he saw it, low-slung and mean-looking, his eyes lit up. It took some time for everyone to reunite, for all the explanations to be made, but finally those not incarcerated (welcome back, Zelena) headed to Granny's for dinner. When Emma looked around for Killian, she found him slowly circling the car, running the tip of one finger down its gently curving fender in a way that gave her chills.

Things in Storybrooke got hairy the next day (didn't they always?), and then things had gotten very dark for her. She'd been gone, lost in that dark place and fighting like hell to find her way back home. She'd forgotten all about Killian's reaction to that car until weeks later, after everything had fallen apart and been put back together.

Life was just returning to normal and Emma was trying to enjoy every tiny moment of it, since she'd very nearly lost it all. She'd been so focused on spending time with Henry and repairing her relationship with her parents that she didn't notice right away that the car had disappeared from the spot in front of Granny's where it had been since she brought it back.

"Did you sell the car while I was gone?" she asked David as she strolled towards Granny's with him, Mary Margaret and Neal, who was half way to being a toddler now. Babies grew so fast. She'd missed so much while she'd been lost.

"What car?" David asked.

"That Chevelle I brought back from Massachusetts." She purposely left out the word "stole", since that car had probably passed through so many criminal hands that it would be impossible to trace it back to its legal owner at this point.

David smirked. "Ah...no. Um, Killian took it."

"Excuse me?"

David shrugged. "He said he wanted it and since it didn't really belong to anybody..."

"But he doesn't drive."

"He taught himself."

"He has one hand."

"He manages."

"He doesn't have a license."

Another shamefaced shrug. "I took care of that."

"Did he even pass a driving test?"

"I trust him."

"I can't believe you. You're supposed to protect the citizens of this town, not turn an unlicensed, one-handed pirate in a muscle car loose to menace the streets."

"He'll be fine," David said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Yeah, but what about everybody else?"

Killian with a muscle car was a dangerous idea.

She discovered it was dangerous in a way she hadn't anticipated when she went down to the docks to see him after dinner.

The Chevelle was indeed there, parked at the curb a few feet from the slip where the Jolly Roger was moored. When Killian came up on deck some time later, he found Emma there, leaning on the hood, arms crossed.

"Well, well, this is a delightful surprise. My two favorite ladies side by side."

She couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped her.

"Lady? Don't tell me you've named it, too."

He looked away and shrugged in a way that told her he totally had, even though he'd deny it to his dying breath.

She took a moment to appreciate the picture he presented, standing on the deck of his ship. He'd shed his jacket and vest and was just in his shirt and leather pants (where had he even found those things?). There was an extra button opened on his shirt, exposing a little more chest hair than usual. His heavy silver chain and charms, the ones that always made her imaging hooking her fingers into it and dragging him down on top of her, were clearly visible. And she wanted to grab them and drag him down on top of her, like always.

He always looked like a bad boy, but today he looked particularly raffish. Maybe his stubble was a little longer, the eyeliner a little heavier. Whatever it was, he looked dangerous and delicious.

Emma cleared her throat and batted away her rampaging lust.

"So I heard through the grapevine that you purloined this car."

"I'd hardly consider it theft since it was parked on the street and no one had claimed ownership." Killian leapt from one level of the deck to another with an agile grace that made her mouth water. He snagged his jacket from where he'd left it draped on the ship's wheel and shrugged back into it.

"You're right. It was pretty much up for grabs. I'm just surprised that you grabbed it. You don't like cars."

He sauntered down the gangway toward her, a swagger in his step that she hadn't seen for a long time. Faithful, considerate-boyfriend-Killian seemed to have taken the night off and Bad Boy pirate-Hook had taken his place. He walked toward her until his toes nearly touched hers. She felt pinned in against the car, suddenly. It wasn't a bad feeling.

"I like this car," he said quietly, his voice a low rumble that made something in her stomach respond. No, that wasn't her stomach. The response happened a lot lower and had her pressing her thighs together.

"It's..." To her embarrassment she found she'd momentarily lost her voice, burned away by his hotness. "It's a very nice car."

He chuckled. "Oh no, this car is anything but nice. Would you care to take a ride, Swan?"

Damned if that line didn't set her pulse pounding.

"Sure." Her voice was still disturbingly breathy and flustered as she followed him around to the passenger side door. "I mean, sounds like you got your license through pretty unofficial channels. I should make sure you're not a hazard to yourself or anybody else."

He smirked at her as she slid past him into the car. "Oh I'm definitely a hazard. But I'm also a hell of a driver."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"I'm sure you will."

He closed the door on her. It had a satisfyingly thunk, serious metal hitting metal, heavy construction settling into place. She took a moment to look around as he crossed to the driver's side. She'd barely gotten an impression of the car when she'd first... borrowed it. It had simply been the means to an end. But Killian was right, this was not a nice car. This was a kick-ass car. Black leather bucket seats, a smooth expanse of dashboard, set with sleek, early 70's era chrome-edged dials. The doors were lightly lined with leather, but nothing took away from the overwhelming sense of solid metal and raw power. Certainly not that gearshift—chrome, with a black knob at the top, perfectly phallic in its design.

Killian dropped into the driver's seat.

"So how do you manage with your..."

Just then, Killian slotted his hook, which gleamed silver, like an extension of the car, around a little contoured knob he'd affixed to the steering wheel.

"Buckle up, Swan."

Her seatbelt clicked into place just as he turned the key. The engine roared to life, smooth and powerful. She glanced at Killian just in time to see his face transform with some expression she'd never seen before. No, that wasn't right. She'd seen it once before, back in the Enchanted Forest when they'd fallen back in time, right after she'd unlaced her bodice and thrust her cleavage into Past-Killian's face. His eyes had glazed over with lust in just that same way. His tongue crept out to touch his lip just as it had then.

And just like she had back then, her own body responded to that look. Sure, back in the Enchanted Forest, she'd been trying to distract him, keep him occupied while this Killian ransacked his ship. But that didn't mean she hadn't enjoyed herself . It didn't mean she hadn't fantasized all night about those lips, that tongue. She had. And she'd thoroughly enjoyed finally getting to kiss him, even if she'd just been taking one for the team.

She was still lost in fantasies about Killian's mouth when he flipped the radio on. Led Zepplin poured out of the speakers, hard and loud.

"What's this?"

"Henry gave it to me. He said it goes with the car. I like it."

"I bet you do."

Then Killian wrapped his hand around the gearshift with an easy dexterity that left her breathless, threw the car into gear, and peeled out of the parking lot.

She really should stop ever being surprised at what he was capable of. A man didn't survive for 300 years without being adaptable. Whatever little gizmo he'd rigged up to the steering wheel allowed him to control the car better with just his hook than 90 percent of drivers could with both hands.

It was impressive as hell. It was also really, really hot. Emma found herself wedged into the corner between her seat and the door, fingers digging into the supple leather seat, unable to tear her eyes away from him. It was probably better to watch Killian instead of the road anyway, because he drove like a maniac.

It was late and the streets around Storybrooke were empty, which was good because Killian liked speed. Once they cleared downtown and made it onto the deserted country roads surrounding the town, he opened the car up. As the engine revved, a low, sexy growl, his smile grew feral. He guided the car masterfully around turns, every inch of his body attuned with the vehicle.

They flew. The car rumbled with pure power. Robert Plant wailed through the speakers. Killian threw the car into its final gear, his thighs flexing as he worked the clutch and gas pedal in tandem.

When he pulled off the road with a fierce grinding of the brakes and a shower of spraying gravel, Emma finally exhaled. She was shaking all over, and not just from the speed.

"Wh-why did you stop?" she stammered.

He arched one eyebrow at her, his expression all innocence now. "There's a nice view from up here."

She finally looked away from him and out the windshield. Sure enough, he'd driven them to a hillside just outside of town. The twinkling lights of Storybrooke were nestled into the valley below them and past that, the inky blackness of the sea.

With fumbling fingers, she released her seatbelt and opened the door. Her knees felt weak when she stood up out of the car. Damn, he was good.

"You okay there, Swan?" he smirked as she made her way to the front of the car. He was already there, leaning nonchalantly against the hood, arms crossed over his chest.

"Fine. Where did you learn to drive like that?"

He shrugged and stared out at Storybrooke, his expression darkening. "There wasn't much for me to do while you were…gone. Until Regina figured out how to get to you, the rest of us just had to wait. The car…it gave me something to do."

What had happened to her, her disappearance to that other, dark place, had been so overwhelming, and the fight to get back here so difficult, that she hadn't really given much thought to what had gone on in her absence. Now she did, imagining Killian trapped in this realm and powerless. He must have been going out of his mind.

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

She blew out a breath. "Still, I gotta say, you found a good way to pass the time. This thing is gorgeous." She ran a hand across the warm metal hood.

Killian grinned and straightened up, running the tips of two fingers across the hood as he moved towards her. The way he touched this car should be illegal. "She reminds me of you," he said, coming to a stop in front of her. He planted the curve of his hook against the hood on her other side, effectively caging her against the car again.

"Me?"

"Mm hmm. Beautiful, powerful and responsive."

"Responsive?" There went her voice again, all whispery and faint. But she couldn't help it. She'd gone all molten inside, shaking as he moved into her. He dipped his head to the side, his nose skimming her neck.

"Yes, responsive. Like the way your breathing changes when I get close to you this way. Did you think I never noticed?"

She reached out to grab his hips. She had to or she'd fall over.

"You've been paying attention."

"I have, right from the first." His hand, warmed from the hood, moved to her thigh.

"So…"

He pushed back on her hip slightly, and before she realized what she'd done, she'd slid back to sit on the edge of the hood. Killian was there, gently moving her knees apart and stepping into the space he'd made. Her heart pounded as need coiled tightly through her.

"Yes?" he prompted when she didn't finish her sentence. How could she speak when his hand was sliding around to palm her ass, when he was tugging her forward until her hips were flush against his, when his lips were pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her throat?

"Do you think you can handle me the way you handled this car?"

He chuckled, a low, sexy vibration against her throat. Then he kissed her again, dragging his lips up to her jaw and nipping her lightly with his teeth. She shuddered. "Oh, darling, you really have no idea."

Then he took her mouth. There was no other word for it really, because it was too commanding, too invasive, too all-encompassing to be called merely a kiss. As long as Killian had been in Storybrooke, he'd been courteous and respectful, always supportive, never demanding a thing from her that she didn't give him willingly. Every kiss, almost all of which she'd instigated, had been sweet and romantic. She'd almost forgotten he had this side to him. He was a pirate, and he kissed like one, the way he'd first kissed her so long ago in Neverland, like he could consume her with just a kiss.

He could. If a kiss could send her spiraling this way, the rest would probably break her apart and put her back together again. She knew that taking this step would unleash something in him, the same way the car had, something wild and overwhelming. Once that would have scared her. That was probably why she'd held him at arm's length for so very long. But she'd been through the heart of darkness and survived. She wasn't scared any more.

He had her laid out on the hood of the car as he kissed her, devouring her mouth with his lips, tongue and teeth. Without meaning to, she'd brought her knees up and wrapped her thighs around his hips. Her fingers dug into his hair, fisting hard, her nails scraping his scalp. Cold steel brushed the small of her back as his hook slid up beneath her shirt.

"Good God, Emma…"

"I think we'd better head back to your ship, pirate."

He raised his head to look at her, eyes dark with lust. Even so, the question behind them was clear-headed, always respectful.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. The car shouldn't get to have all the fun."

He pushed himself off her, his face alight with another wicked grin. He reached a hand out to her and helped her slide off and find her feet. "Darling, what we're about to do together is nothing like my driving. After all, I've only been doing that for two months. This…I've had a lot more practice at this."

"That's a pretty big boast."

He leaned in to kiss her again but stopped just shy of her lips. "It's not a boast if it's true."

She was the one to close the gap this time, grabbing his necklace and pulling him in. Damned cocky, sexy pirate. She knew it would be true. She'd spend tonight with him and she just knew her world would look different tomorrow, and not just because of the mind-blowing sex he was promising.

It would be different because tonight was just the first night. She'd caught a glimpse of a very different, very dark forever. Now she was back in the light, back in his love, and she was going to make damned sure that this forever was the one she hung onto.