A/N: Hook & Emma are such complicated characters with an amazing, yet complex connection. Let's see what I can make of their story :)

Like my other fic, this will be multi-chaptered & has a pre-planned plot. I hope you all enjoy it :) Please feel free to review!

Summary: AU & CS. Emma Swan is a skilled bounty hunter in the Enchanted Forest & it just so happens that one of her clients is Captain Hook. What happens when she agrees to take on his dangerous request? Two broken individuals w/ dark pasts play a risky game full of mistrust & secrets, unwilling to give the other the upper hand. Whose wall will break first?

Disclaimer: Adam + Eddy = OUAT

When you've been on your own for this long, you tend to learn a thing or two about how this cruel world works. For example, there are two things she kept in mind when she walked into the tavern: one, people liked to make judgments. You could be the kindest, most unbiased person in the world, but one look at someone and you've already formulated a brief mini-profile about them.

To make a judgment, one must be able to be see the person. See, or simply be exposed to, because the blind can make judgments, too. But in most cases, it is the sight of the person that conjures the quickest judgments, and so this leads to lesson number two: the more of you they can see, the more of you they can judge. It's easy to make a judgment about someone who flaunts themselves so willingly, and while she frankly didn't care much about other people's opinions of her, this particular fact made her wary. Because the more of you they can see, the more exposed you've made yourself, rendering yourself a victim to vulnerability.

This is dangerous. And why is that? Well, let's return to number one: people like to make judgments. And the easier it is for them to make a judgment, more often than not they tend to be accurate to the real thing, and people are very well aware of this fact. Thus they become more confident about their judgment of the other person, leading them to want to learn more about them. So they talk to them, make conversation, prod subtly into their life, charm the secrets out of them, hence reducing the other's initial vulnerability to raw nakedness. Easy judgment equals easy target - you can guess which person would have the upper hand.

This is perhaps why Emma prefers obscurity: mystery baffles people. The more layers and walls she builds around herself, the harder it is for people to come storming through, and eventually they grow tired of trying. That, or they become afraid, because there is nothing more frightening than encountering a person you have no idea how to judge - especially if they're as obscure as a faceless, hooded person that lingers in the shadows.

In some places, the sight of her would cause some people to either hastily avoid her or stupidly confront her about her mysterious demeanour, but in a pub like this, she didn't have much to worry about. Hooded figures frequent around these parts, especially in this pub, for things like business transactions or secret meetings. Or maybe it was a new fashion trend. Whatever it was, it gave Emma the liberty to sip her drink quietly and peacefully in the corner alone while she watched the people around her.

There were around 30 people in this pub: 23 men and around seven women, including herself. But people didn't need to know Emma's gender - no, there were too few women and too many drunk, lonely, angry men, so she kept both her distance and her hood on. Who knows what irritating situations she'd land herself into if she were to expose herself.

Of the 23 men, she could not find a single one who fit the description she was given: tall, dark-haired, and a hook for one hand. There were plenty who fit the first two traits but none who had a hook. God, she wanted to kill Graham for his lacking in the skill of description. The impatience was suffocating her.

She wanted to have a better look around the premises just in case she missed someone, but that would mean she should either get up from her comfortable seat in the dark corner of the room, or take off her hood to give her head more freedom to turn around. She quickly scanned the men around her.

1 o'clock: three men playing cards, two of them occasionally glancing her way, but not too knowingly. Safe enough.

12 o'clock: a man with his face turned away from her, hands that were covered in leather gloves entwined thoughtfully against his forehead... Safe.

And at her 2, 3, and 4 o'clock were some blubbering fools who were telling grand stories about their lives to the giggling women on their laps... yes, definitely safe. She sighed - she supposed it was safe enough for her to take off her hood. Besides, she really did not want to lose her seat.

She lowered her hood and sipped her drink as she looked around, bracing herself. With only seven women in the pub and her being the only one alone, it was only a matter of time until -

"Milady, would you like a-"

"No." Too easy; much too easy. Some men were too damn predictable - she didn't even need to lift her head.

The young man standing in front of her looked taken aback, but he insisted. "But milady, you're all alone and it's the least I can-"

"Did I stutter?" This time she lifted her eyes to give him a hard look. "I said no."

She sipped her drink and smiled softly to herself as she lowered her eyes to search the room again. Good, he should want to leave now. But contrary to her expectations, the young man didn't move. Instead he opened his mouth in anger and stepped forward to move closer to her.

"I do believe the lady requested your leave."

Startled, Emma looked up to see another man with his hand on the shoulder of the one who had spoken to her. She glanced back at the table at her 12 o'clock and saw that it was empty - it was the man with the leather gloves, she realized as she looked back at him. However half of his face was covered by the shadows, so she was not able to examine his profile properly.

The younger man looked at the stranger with distaste and roughly shrugged off his hand. "I'll leave when I want to," he growled, jabbing a finger on the other man's chest aggressively. However the stranger simply stayed rooted on his spot and stared down at the younger man. Evidently, this bothered the drunken latter as he began lift a fist threateningly towards his face.

"Think you're so high and mighty? Why don't you-"

"Tut, tut, I wouldn't do that if I were you, mate."

Impressive, but she has seen that move before. In fact, she has done it herself many times - one hand grabbing the wrist of the aggressor, the other pointing a well-placed, previously hidden dagger at their stomach. If they move forward even the slightest, the weapon will plunge into their body. Well done - she had barely blinked when the stranger quickly moved to catch the wrist of the younger man, who had pulled out a pocketknife, and placed a knife that he had retrieved from his own sleeves towards the younger man's abdomen. Realizing he was at a loss, the younger man tugged his arm out of the stranger's leather gloved grip and glared at him before walking away, huffing.

Emma's eyes never left the stranger as he took a seat in the booth facing her, his face still obscured by the shadows.

"For how long have you been watching me?"

The stranger paused for a moment and considered her question, then leaned back against his seat to take a better look at her.

"For as long as you have been waiting," he answered vaguely.

Hmm. Well, she'll give that to him - it had been quite obvious that she was waiting for someone. But it was strange that he would be alone like that, pretending to be in deep thought when it in actuality he was watching her. And seemingly without any prior intention of approaching her, too, only until that young man came over and disturbed Emma. Strange stranger indeed, she thought as she stared him down.

They sat like that for a short, silent moment, sizing each other up, although Emma was at a disadvantage to making a judgment about him as his face was still dark with shadow, the only part of him exposed to light being his dark hair. After a few seconds, Emma suddenly felt slightly uncomfortable - even though she couldn't see his eyes, there was something uneasy about his gaze. It was searing, observant, and almost... knowing. So she tore her eyes away from him and looked around her, briefly going back to her original reason for coming to the pub in the first place - the man with the hook.

Pointless, she thought with an irritated sigh when she finished quickly scanning the room once more. It appeared that 'the man with the hook' chose not to meet her, and since the stranger in front of her had no hook but instead two normal hands in leather gloves... Well, there wasn't much reason for her to stay.

She stood up from her seat and began to make her way towards the door, but to her surprise, the stranger blocked her. He had gotten up as well and was now standing two feet in front of her, a close distance that annoyed her greatly.

"If you think I'm going to thank you for getting rid of that guy, then you've got the wrong girl," she snapped, not bothering to lift up her head to look at him as she spoke.

"Oh but believe me, darling, you're exactly what I'm looking for."

The huskiness of his voice was enough to make Emma lift up her head to look at him, presumably to tell him off for his poor attempts at banter, but the words caught in her throat when she finally caught sight of his face.

The stranger was now standing under light, allowing her to have a full view of his face: slightly messy jet black hair, scruffs of dark facial hair as a beard, and man were those some blue eyes. Not bad, she thought as she evaluated his appearance. Tall, dark, and handsome, but she knew very well how dangerous that could be.

She regained her composure and lifted an eyebrow at him, but to her surprise his eyes were now concentrated on something behind her.

"Have a drink with me," he suddenly said, not taking his eyes off of whatever was behind Emma. "Over there." He give a stiff nod to his right where the barmaid was working near the door.

She narrowed her eyes at his tone - it sounded more like an order than an invitation. "What makes you think I'm going to have a drink with you?" she scoffed as she crossed her arms.

Eyes still trained on what was behind Emma, the man put his hand on her arm and began to forcibly pull her away with him. "Don't look back," he instructed in a low voice. "Walk casually towards the door and we'll- argh!"

Breathing heavily, she stepped close to his body and pointed her dagger towards his chest, glaring at him as he rubbed the arm she had twisted away from herself after he had grabbed her. What the hell was that - he thinks he can just touch her like that and get away with it? Fucking pirates, she fumed as she took in the sight of his all-leather attire and elaborate jewellery.

"Touch me like that again and I'll cut your throat next," she warned him. His blue eyes slowly trailed over hers as she glared at him, the intensity of the gaze causing her to stiffen. Pity, it would be a shame to do some damage on such a good-looking face.

Then as quickly as he did the first time, he darted his eyes behind her once again and straightened his body, clearly stiffening at whatever was behind her. She furrowed her eyebrows and began to turn around, wondering what was behind her that kept gaining his attention, but then -

"Get out of here!"

The man had pushed her roughly to the side then stepped in front of her, nudging her to get away from him. How the hell did he do that?! she thought in bewilderment as she scrambled for her dagger, only to find that the man now had it in his own hand.

"Don't make me tell you twice, Swan! Move!" he shouted again, pushing her backwards with his back still facing her.

She didn't fight back or even ask how he knew her name - when she looked up, she saw the three men who were playing cards earlier now running towards them, all with deadly-looking weapons pointing towards them.

"Remember to grab her!" one of the three men yelled to the others.

Realizing they meant her, Emma ran towards the nearest table and threw a bottle of beer at the one who was nearing her, then she jumped over the chair blocking her, careful to kick it behind her as she ran forwards. She glanced back at her shoulder and smiled - the two who had been given the order to grab her were now sprawled on the floor, having been hit by the objects Emma flung at them.

To her surprise, the man who gave the order was nowhere to be seen. Furrowing her eyebrows, she turned her head to look for him-

"Got you, pretty little missy," a voice leered at her ear. She stiffened at the feeling of his breath so close to her skin and at his hands that had now grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them behind her. She let out a low chuckle.

"You must not really know who I am," she said with a smirk.

"Oh but I do know who you are, Bounty Hunter."

As soon as the jeer escaped his mouth, Emma stomped her heel hard on his feet, causing him to groan and subsequently loosen his grip on her. Finally able to tug her wrists away from him, she elbowed him deep into his stomach then turned around to give him a hard kick at the shin.

"Correct, but whoever sent you clearly underestimated me," she stated as she stared at his crouched, groaning figure.

She pushed past him to leave, but then she felt someone push her forwards-

"Oh no you don't!"

Whipping her head around, she saw the blue-eyed man with the leather gloves punching the man that Emma knocked over with a chair earlier. After Leather Gloves smashed a bottle on the man's head, he pushed past her, grabbing her hand as he ran.

"Quick, they're stronger than you think," he said as they pushed the door open and walked aside. It appeared he was correct - she could hear the yelling of the man who had grabbed Emma earlier, ordering for the others to chase after them.

She tried to tug away her hand from his leather gloved hand as they ran out, but his grip was too strong. So she followed him as he led her to the side of the pub, where there was a small alleyway completely dark with shadows.

He pushed her against the wall and leaned his body against hers so that they were now chest to chest. Emma swore under her breath - his movement was so quick that she barely had time to unsheathe the small knife from her sleeve. But he now had her pinned to the wall, his hand holding one of her own between their bodies. She tried to wriggle her free hand out but Leather Gloves had his body pressed firmly against hers.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she whispered loudly to him. She dared not to lift her head to look at him - she could feel his hot breath against her face, letting her know that if she tried, then their lips might just touch.

"Saving your life," he hissed back.

This time she lifted her eyes to glare at him, but he was now looking down at her with the same hard, intense blue gaze from earlier. She suddenly found herself completely frozen, unable to move or think properly due to the locking of her gazes. Damn this man - Emma does not lose her composure over attraction. But when he slightly tilted his head, all the warning bells in her head rang, and so she made a quick plan to move here, hit that, kick there -

But before she could even move a single muscle, he leaned in.

A/N: Next chapter we have Leather Gloves introduce himself. Reviews are greatly appreciated, please :D