Clink clink clink.

"Cuffing me once not enough for you, Swan?" The pirate's smirk was fiendish. He hadn't forgotten where Emma's buttons were and how hard or soft to press them - he didn't hesitate to throw the quips at her the moment they had met.

Emma knew there wasn't any use in cuffing his wrists together; he could easily slip his hooked hand out and she didn't want to think about how far downhill things would move if she allowed it. Her only other option, as much as she didn't want it to be, was to cuff herself to the pirate until they arrived at the sheriff's station. After Dr. Whale was able to tend to his wounds, the only place Emma could keep him safe - and keep the entirety of the town safe from Hook - was in a cell at her station. It was Davi- Dad - who advised that they keep him there until they could find some place to keep him elsewhere.

Ever since the handcuffs locked into place, Emma was filled with regret.

"Well..." Hook went on when Emma responded with silence, "I suppose this is better than being tied to a post at the top of a giant's beanstalk." He chuckled as he observed her, anger nestled in the creases of her frown. He knew he was getting under her skin, and his mouth just kept running.

Getting into the sheriff's car was the most awkward thing Emma could recall ever doing. It didn't help that she was unquestionably furious with the pirate. When the gunshot echoed through the town, a panic had broken out and she was the first one to the scene - she found an injured Hook in what she could only assume as a stolen car. She couldn't recall pirates ever learning how to drive. Ships and cars were two very different things. When they crawled into the car, Emma had to slide herself over him into the driver's seat - an activity Hook wouldn't have minded to do again, clearly. He had snickered when all that escaped Emma's mouth were grunts as she hopped into her seat. Her hand remained on the stick, and she could feel his fingers occasionally brushing against the top of her hand.

Clink clink clink.

When they arrived at the sheriff station, Hook pouted at her. "You ask the doctor to mend my wounds," he sulked, "and yet you still lock me up?"

Emma made the promise to herself to ignore him - a promise that was growing increasingly more difficult to keep.

"Oh, your silence hurts, lass."

She dragged him to the cell at the other end of the office. Instead of words, she shot him a dirty look that clearly conveyed her exact feelings. Hook seemed to understand what she was trying to say through the side-eye she was giving him.

"You're upset, I understand that." Emma pushed him into the cell and he wrapped his hook around one of the bars, more clinking echoing through the empty station.

No shit.

"I couldn't let anyone know of my arrival into Storybrooke," Hook sighed. "You are the very reason I couldn't have anyone aware of my presence." He motioned to his right hand, still cuffed.

Emma hesitantly unlocked her own before moving onto his, jerking the key around aggressively. Her eyes never met his; in fact, she kept them as far away from his face as possible, in case she somehow found her eyes moving about his face - as much as she wanted to, and that very thought was what fueled her anger.

With a loud CLANG, the door to the cell slammed shut, leaving Hook on the other side of the bars. She could feel his eyes digging into her - Emma could sense the hurt that emanated off of him and his voice, but she needed to disregard it. She was the sheriff. Everything that had happened previously in the Enchanted Forest - the beanstalk, Rumpelstiltskin's cell - didn't matter anymore. They were in Storybrooke now, and the Enchanted Forest need not apply.

Hook's hook against the metal bars rang throughout the entire office, and it pounded in Emma's head each time it droned. She sat herself down at her desk, still ignoring Hook's eyes as he continued with the noise. She buried her face in her hands and groaned with frustration, the muscles in her neck growing tense. She knew that this wasn't going to stop until she acknowledged him, answered his questions, but Emma had more self-control than that.

...

"Emma," Hook called out after several minutes of silence. His arm was hanging through the gap in the rods and his hook was ringing against the steel quietly. When Emma didn't answer, he called her again. "Emma!"

...

"Emma!"

No.

"Swan!"

...

"SWAN!"

Emma finally raised her face from the palms of her hand, the sunlight beaming through the window made it difficult to see. "WHAT, HOOK?"

"Can we talk about this?"

Emma discounted the hurt in his voice and stared at him through the sunshine. She could feel her anger boiling within her. She slowly stood upright and took her time as she paced towards his cell, never taking her eyes off of him. Her fingers slithered around the bars and - oh how the tables have turned. This time, it was him on the inside, his face full of remorse, begging her to rethink things. The constant power-shift between the two of them was becoming tiring. "There is nothing to talk about, Hook," she whispered firmly.

"You want to talk about how I left you in Rumpelstiltskin's cell," he called after her when Emma turned around and began making her way back to her desk. When she stopped and spun around on her heel, he smiled at her. "You want to know why I'd still trust you after you left me on that beanstalk, and why I'd still abandon you in the cell."

"Like I said, open book." Emma remembered the conversation they had had as they climbed the beanstalk. His ability to read her was infuriating and all she wanted in this world was to run up to him and throw her fist at his handsome face as hard as she could. She had tried to open up to him, tried to trust him, even gave him the chance to escape the beanstalk unharmed. Yet, there was still that pang in her chest; he still took the compass, Aurora's heart, and her portal back to Storybrooke - to Henry.

She couldn't stop the anger from reaching its tipping-point. Emma whipped around and stormed back to the cell door, where Hook stood, his arm still dangling through the bars. "THERE IS NOTHING I WANT TO TALK ABOUT!" Her voice was booming from her lungs. Emma felt her chest constricting and now her face was close to his. Hook's expression was blank and unmoved, and Emma was angry at herself for letting that fact get to her. "NOTHING I WANT TO DISCUSS WITH YOU."

There was a lull between them, and all Emma could hear was the humming of the fans in the ceiling, and their breathing.

Hook inhaled sharply and looked down at her through the gaps. "If there's nothing to talk about lass," he uttered. "Then why are there tears?"

Emma's mouth fell open as a warm drop glided down her cheek.