"You're telling me then, in this other reality, I'm an expert with such a weapon." The incredulity is clear in his voice. It would be funny, if she couldn't use a skilled swordsman quite so badly.

"You're a regular Jack Sparrow."

"Is that good?"

At least that hasn't changed. He's still adorably confused about the references she makes.

"Here. Let me show you how to use it." She invades his personal space and guides his sword arm as she speaks.

"What. Oh."

"They say once you become an expert, your subconscious takes over."

"Ah."

"Back in my world, that's what we call muscle memory."

"Tell me more about this reality you want to return to. Us, for example. I sense that we, um - We may be close." He makes a little self-deprecating laugh at the end, as if the whole idea is ridiculous.

"Very." He's honestly surprised by her answer.

"Really? Well, I'm starting to get jealous of the other me."

"Yeah, that seems to be a pattern with you."

"Pardon?" His brows knit together in confusion. Emma can't help but think that he really is adorable. But this is neither the time nor the place for that, so she shakes the thought off.

They're suddenly interrupted by an upset woman, who's looking very frightened. Emma recognizes her as half of the couple that runs the inn where they are staying.

"Run! Snow White is coming for you."

Several thoughts run through Emma's head at lightning speed. First and foremost that it's a ridiculous idea that she would need to run from her mother. Snow White would never harm her or Henry, would she?

"I have to get my son."

"There's no time! My husband hid him already. They will meet you on the morrow when the sun is highest at the market place. Now, if you want any chance to see your son again, hurry!"

She is practically shooing them off at this point and Emma realizes that she's out of options. She nods at the woman in thanks and then she's off like a lighting bolt, dragging a befuddled Hook along behind her.

They skip through several alleys at full throttle. Emma randomly takes right and left turns, and it only takes a minute for her to be completely lost. She never slows down though. She can hear Hook wheezing behind her. He's clearly not in the same shape he used to be, but he's making an effort to keep up with her. She takes a sharp turn and he stumbles into her and they almost fall down. Emma barely catches her footing and they're off again, her attention divided between where they are going and trying to make out any sounds behind them. Clearly somebody is hot on their trail, causing quite the ruckus of disturbed town's folk behind them.

She makes another sharp turn into a dark alley and realizes too late that it's a dead end. She looks around frantically, already hearing their pursuers close-by. There is no time to turn around. She's starting to panic when Hook points out something on the ground. It's a trapdoor, probably leading to some sort of cellar. It's completely covered in dirt and straw, of all things, and might just be concealed enough to offer shelter for them.

She pulls it open half-way carefully, trying to retain as much of the street dirt on it as possible in the process. Hook squeezes through the opening quickly, with Emma following close behind. She has barely closed the trapdoor again when they hear footsteps above them.

Emma tenses, readying herself for a fight. In the dim light coming in through the cracks in the trapdoor, she sees that Hook has drawn his sword. He is shaking slightly, but she notes that his sword arm is almost steady in spite of it. She can hear what she assumes are guards having an unintelligible conversation above them. Then, the footsteps retreat and it is suddenly very quiet in the small space.

After long minutes of silence, Hook makes a move to climb up the small ladder again, but Emma puts her hand on his arm, stopping him. In spite of the semi-darkness, she can see the questioning look on his face.

She leans over and whispers, close to his ear, "They know we vanished somewhere in this area. I'm sure somebody is standing guard somewhere close by. We should stay here until dark."

She doesn't miss the shiver that runs through him when she leans into his space. He nods, then sheaths his sword. It takes him two attempts before he manages it in the dim light. One of the rays coming in through the cracks throws a soft light on his face, which means that Emma can see the deep blush creeping up his face at his inability to handle the sword. She wonders briefly, if, supposed they find a way to reverse their current situation, the real Hook will remember any of this and if he will be embarrassed by it.

Emma takes a moment to look around. The space is tiny, filled with barrels and crates. It seems to be a small storage room, probably from a nearby tavern. If somebody opens the trapdoor looking for them, there is nowhere to hide. Emma shivers, she hasn't noticed in the excitement before, but the small cellar is very cold.

She sits down on one of the crates and looks up at Hook, who is standing next to the ladder leading up, unsure what to do with himself.

"Welcome to the exciting life of a hero", Emma mumbles and starts rubbing her hands over her arms to get warmer.

Hook gives a small laugh, then sits down next to her, their legs and hips touching. He is still a little out of breath. Emma has to consciously stop herself from leaning into him, as she would have done if it were really Hook beside her.

The man next to her shakes his head. "I can't believe this is happening to me."

There is a note of boyish excitement in his voice, similar to what Henry sounds like when he undertakes one of his 'operations'. It makes Emma wonder what kind of life he's led in this version of reality.

Fuck it, she thinks. She might never see the real Killian Jones again. They could die here, in this strange world that has never been her home and is so now less than ever. She leans over and rests her head against his shoulder, snuggling closer to him, relishing in the heat radiating off of him. That's one thing that apparently hasn't changed, Hook seems to always be warm no matter the conditions.

Hook draws in a sharp breath at her action and freezes. After a couple of seconds, his left arm comes up to slowly, hesitantly draw around her, his hook coming to rest awkwardly against her outer thigh.

Emma wakes up from lightly dozing. It feels like hours have passed, her neck hurts and there's a feeling of tiny needles prickling her skin as she slowly stretches her hands. She realizes with horror that at some point she must have basically crawled into Hook's lap. Her legs are drawn up, her feet pressed against a nearby barrel to the side. His arms are drawn around her, his chin resting on the top of her head.

Where her head is resting against his chest, she can hear the thunder of his heartbeat. Hook is very evidently not asleep. His breathing sounds a little labored and Emma wonders about his shape if he still hasn't recovered from their run after all this time. She shifts a little to get more comfortable and he groans, biting down on the sound at the end, but much too late for Emma not to notice it.

She sits up a little straighter, her forehead touching his cheek and she can literally feel the blush that is heating up his face and neck. And finally she puts the pieces together. He's aroused. So much so that she is starting to feel the evidence of his arousal against her lower back. He's obviously embarrassed about it.

Emma pulls back slightly and moves her right hand to cup his cheek. They are in almost complete darkness now, she cannot make out any expression on his face, but she hears his sharp intake of breath at her gesture.

Emma has another realization. She likes him. A lot, actually. He's the man that she always thought might be hidden under all the swagger, all the innuendo, all the bravado that Hook uses to protect himself. An honest, gentle, truly good man.

Without stopping to question the sanity of her actions, she moves in for a kiss. It's nothing more than a chaste peck on the lips, but she can feel Hook freeze completely. Yet again. That only lasts a split second though, then he's reciprocating, opening his mouth to allow her entrance. The kiss turns passionate in a matter of seconds. Hook moans into her mouth and it's a delicious sound that she wants to pull from him again. Her left hand comes up to entangle itself in his hair.

She repositions her legs on either side of him, straddling him. Then, she pushes him up against the wall and moves in again to trail kisses and soft bites along his neck and jaw. The noise he makes in reply to that is decidedly sinful and her heartbeat speeds up. She moves in for another kiss and he responds enthusiastically.

Through the haze starting to envelop her thoughts, Emma becomes dimly aware of a sound above them. She pulls back and Hook makes a small noise of protest. Emma lifts her head and listens. The trapdoor opens and both of them freeze in place, their ragged breathing the only audible sound.

Somebody steps slowly down the ladder. They leave the trapdoor open. It's obviously dark outside, but the person is carrying a small lantern. They place it on a barrel opposite the two of them.

It's a small miracle that they have not been spotted yet. The intruder has their back to them and seems to be busy searching for something in one of the crates. Emma motions with her head up the ladder, trying to convey to Hook that it's time they make their escape. He nods in reply. Emma tries to stand up without making any noise. It's difficult because her legs have fallen asleep and are still a bit stiff.

She manages to stand up without drawing attention and starts to walk slowly towards the ladder when their luck finally runs out. The guy turns around and stares at her wide-eyed. Then his expression turns angry.

"Thieves!", he yells and Emma decides that this is their cue to make an exit. She bolts up the stairs, Hook close on her heels. For the second time that day, they make a dashing escape through the streets. The guy, presumably the owner of the small cellar, yells after them, but apparently does not make an effort to actually chase them down.

Emma is not taking any risks though, so they run through the dark alleys at full speed. She turns around a corner and suddenly finds herself in front of a moving horse. Emma freezes in shock and almost gets trampled down if it weren't for Hook, coming up behind her at full speed, throwing her down and out of the way. Both of them tumble over the ground, ending on the side of the small road with him lying on top of her.

The horse and rider move along on their way, clearly unimpressed by their shenanigans. Hook pulls himself up on his right hand and gives her a broad, open smile. There is some dirt on his face and straw sticking out of his hair, and he looks simple adorable. Emma looks up at him and cannot help but wonder if it's possible to fall in love again with somebody that you were already in love with in the first place.