She's looking for something completely different in her mother's satchel when her fingers touch the familiar form, and she pulls it out with an incredulous look. Why is Mary Margaret – her mother, still sounds weird – even carrying around such a thing? She looks at the vividly colored wrapping paper, and suddenly a wild feeling of crave washes over her, and she feels like a child again – the child that has been denied so much in life, for whom even a profane, cheap thing like a lollipop was a mostly unattainable luxury.

It seems like a luxury here, too, here being Neverland, where fresh clothes and hot cocoa remain illusions, and with a predatory smile, Emma unwraps the small sweet treat and stuffs the paper in the pocket of her jeans. Reveling in eager anticipation, she twirls the thin plastic stem between thumb and forefinger, before she lifts the bright red sugary treat to her mouth.

"Swan! Don't eat that!"

She almost jumps at the thundering sound of Hook's voice and whirls around. "What?"

He approaches her with hasty steps, his coat swooshing behind him, eyes wide and concern evident on his face as he points his ridiculously ringed index finger at her like a bullet. "Are you out of your bloody mind?" he snaps, his obvious upset mixed with some sort of relief that he's apparently stopped her from doing something incredibly stupid and hazardous. "You can't just eat some random fruit here without knowing what it is." He points at the piece of candy in her hand. "Where did you find that?"

Emma is still startled and looks at the lollipop and then back at him. "Uh... in Mary Margaret's satchel?" she offers sheepishly.

"What?" He narrows his eyes, completely clueless, and with a little delay she realizes that he was indeed worried she might eat some unknown, potentially poisonous fruit. Apart from the fact that she would never be that stupid, she has to admit to herself – albeit with reluctance – that his concern is weirdly (and unexpectedly) endearing.

"Relax, Hook," she brushes him off and smiles, "It's just a lollipop."

She's not gonna lie, she's enjoying the confusion on his face as he frowns. "Say again?"

"It's candy," she explains. "A sweet."

"Oh." He eyes it suspiciously and finally raises a skeptical eyebrow. "It looks impractical to eat. Do you put the whole thing in your mouth?"

"No, you don't put–"

Emma stumbles over the words and stops herself, feeling a hot, unwanted blush creep up on her neck. What the hell is wrong with her, for once he wasn't even innuendoing, a glance at his face is enough to understand that he's still confused about the whole thing and that his question was indeed completely innocent.

She clears her throat and puts on her most nonchalant face as she shrugs. "You just suck the–"

But she stops herself again, painfully aware that she's about to make it worse, and now of course he's noticed that something's off and immediately picked up on her predicament. Slowly, his full lips curve into a wicked grin. That bastard.

"Suck the what, Swan?" he drawls, and he doesn't even try to make it sound innocent.

She clenches her fists in annoyance. Suck the tip, gently. Swirl your tongue around it, taste the sweetness. Scrape your teeth along it, but carefully. Oh, you can also just lick it if you want it to last longer. For a moment she contemplates actually saying it, that would serve him right. Despite all his loudmouth pirate swagger and lewd comments and looks, she's damn sure he wouldn't be able to handle it. On second thought, she isn't sure if she would be able to handle it, as unwanted images pop up in her head.

For the life of her she doesn't have a clue why the vision is so vivid, so... strong. Against her will, of fucking course against her will, she pictures pushing him up against the next tree and dropping to her knees in front of him, and she can almost feel the rough, yet smooth surface of his leather pants against her palms as she balances herself and leans forward to–

"Swan?" Hook's amused voice shakes her from her embarrassing daydream.

Abruptly, Emma shakes her head once to make the vision disappear, pressing her lips together and flaring her nostrils in an exasperated huff, asking herself again what the fresh hell is wrong with her.

"It's..." She waves her hand impatiently, "this is just sort of a... a handle."

"Hmmm, I see." He nods, a seemingly serious gesture, but then he tilts his head in that mocking way of his, and his eyes sparkle with devilish delight. "Sugar on a stick then, is it?" he asks mischievously, and somehow, he makes that sound dirty, too. She's starting to feel uncomfortably hot and flustered, and really angered about it – at him and at herself, for letting him have that effect on her.

Offense is the best defense, right? "Wanna try?" She practically shoves the candy in his hand, ignoring his amused smirk.

He tilts his head in a mock-bow and licks his lips without taking his eyes off hers, before he raises the lollipop. Of course, he makes a big show of it, and instead of just taking it into his mouth, he puts it against his lips, and they form an o before he hollows his scruffy cheeks and gently sucks the candy into his mouth. He rolls it around, caressing it with his tongue, of fucking course, and makes an appreciative sound low and deep in his throat she can't help but imagine him making during sex. And fuck, she doesn't want to – has no business to – imagine him making anything during sex.

Emma's throat is dry, and she swallows thickly and uselessly. What he's doing with his mouth is almost obscene, and she does her best to pry her eyes away from it, because of course that's exactly what he wants. But it's stronger than her – whatever it is. Drawn as a moth to a flame, her eyes drop to his mouth, to his firm, pink lips and his restlessly moving tongue, and she imagines... imagines–

"Delicious," he comments, pulling the candy out of his mouth with a soft popping sound. "Sweet and sticky and irresistible, just like I imagined it would taste."

She wished a hole in the ground would just open up and swallow her as she feels her hot, traitorous blush rise from her neck to her cheeks when his seemingly innocent, yet suggestive words intensify her vision. For a moment she sees it again before her inner eye, just a glimpse of her own fingers carded in his unruly hair while his dark head is moving between her legs, his ringed fingers pressing into the bare back of her thigh, and that fleeting moment is enough to steal her breath away, shock and shame but also more heat washing over her, because she can almost feel his tongue on her–

"Swan?"

She snaps out of it, but she can't bring herself to look at him, afraid and pretty sure one look into her eyes would be enough for him to know what she was thinking. So, she just swallows and gazes at his hand offering the lollipop back.

Yeah, right... keep dreaming, she thinks. She sure as hell won't put that thing in her mouth with him watching, thank you very much. She's had enough innuendoing and indecent thoughts about a shady pirate she has no business fantasizing about for one day.

"Keep it," she tells him gruffly and waves him off with an annoyed move. "There's plenty back in Storybrooke." And because it would be weird to avoid his gaze any longer, she looks up at him firmly.

And as if he's just waited for that, he smirks and runs his damn tongue along his bottom lip. "Oh, I truly hope so." Slowly, he slips the candy into his mouth again.

Emma gives an exasperated nod and turns away. "Whatever."

Back in Storybrooke or anywhere else, it doesn't matter. She'll never be able to eat a lollipop again.