Emma was on her way to Hook's ship to have sex. She was on her way with Hook. To Hook's ship. To have sex. With Hook. She was pretty sure her brain was broken. But she was fast running out of time and was already out of other options, so therefore she was on her way…

"Darling, if you keep sighing like that, I'm going to be ever so sad. Shall I assume you've changed your mercurial female mind? It's all right, I completely understand. I am heartbroken, of course, but what am I to do? I shall just drown my sorrows at your local pub." Hook veered off course and began walking back the way they had come. Emma sighed even louder and grabbed his collar, dragging him back beside her. Damned pirate was really milking this for all it was worth.

"No," she ground out between her teeth, "I have not changed my mind. Let's just keep going."

Hook glanced at her through the corner of his eyes and pretended to be deep in thought, rubbing at his chin. "Let's just keep going what, dearest one? I don't think I quite heard you."

Damned soon-to-be-DEAD pirate! "Let's just keep going, before I punch you in your face?"

He stopped abruptly and waved his hook dramatically. "Not my beautiful face! Ah, my bright angel has changed her mind. To the pub I go."

This time, Emma grabbed the jacket collar a bit too hard and he was both laughing and coughing as he turned back around to face her. He massaged his throat with his hand and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Emma lowered her voice to a furious whisper. "Let's keep going, if you don't mind." Her glare dared him to find that inadequate.

"I'll get a please out of you today yet, love. One way or another." His smirk was diabolical, and Emma wondered if his ego could get any bigger. Well, his huge ego probably made up for his small… Emma's train of thought derailed at the sudden realization that she was going to find out. Shitshitshitshitshit. Her life, where had it all gone wrong?

Hook grabbed her hand and held on to it as they walked along toward the docks. Emma yanked away and shoved both hands into her jacket pockets.

"Don't get any ideas, Hook. This isn't a date. You hate me, I hate you. I need this favor, and God knows you probably need to get laid after being stuck with Cora for all those years. It means nothing." She stalked forward a few steps before she realized he wasn't next to her anymore. She turned, and saw him gazing down at his shoes. Had she… Was it possible she had hurt his feelings? The very idea seemed ludicrous.

Then he looked up, and she could see that no, he wasn't upset. He was pissed.

Oops. "Umm, too far? Sorry, I just like to call a spade a spade and-"

In the blink of an eye, he had backed her into a light post, with his hook pressed against her belly. Not to hurt (yet). Just to remind. She sucked in her stomach as far away from the shiny weapon as she could. "Stop it. Let me go, I'm warning you, Hook. I'm calling this sideshow off. Just go away, leave me alone, and let's pretend this whole thing never happened, ok?"

"By the seas, can you just shut up?" He reached up to grab a fistful of her long hair with his hand, but also moved his hook slightly further away from her. "Let's have ourselves a little chat right here, shall we? It seems clarification on a few key points is called for. And if you think I'm going to let you forget what happened, what is happening, you are delusional. I am not as charitable as the hat maker. That idiot. To pass up this opportunity…" He stroked down the length of her hair, following the motion with his eyes. He did it again, then brought his attention back to her face. "You are a foul-mouthed, deceitful wench." He smiled. "I like it. But do not mistake my enthusiasm for desperation. I am doing this because you need a favor, and I may have need of a favor myself, down the line. I scratch your back," he ran his hook down over her hipbone and up around her back, "Well you get the idea. You will owe me for this, Swan. Make no mistake of that. Unless you still want to cancel our little accord, since you hate me. This is your last chance to do so, so speak now. Otherwise, we are doing this my way. Are we clear?"

Emma stared at him and weighed her options. She could call it quits and leave Henry's care to her parents and hope for the best, or she could suck it up, do the spell like a big girl, and be indebted to Hook. Neither option was especially attractive, but when it came down to it, there was no choice.

"I still want to do the spell. I want Henry to have the greatest protection possible against Cora. Gold and I will both be gone, and should she choose to make a move, she might be unstoppable. I'm not taking that chance." She swallowed her pride. "I would appreciate your help."

Hook nodded slowly, "That's still not a please, but it will do for now. And you realize you will owe me a favor of my choosing? No backing out of this like you did our deal on the beanstalk."

Emma snorted again. Oddly enough, the sound was growing on him.

"Yes, Hook, I realize you're not doing this out of the goodness of your ice-cold heart. Which Cora probably keeps under her bed." Emma laughed at his black look. "Oh relax, can't you take a joke? Yes, I realize Ill owe you a favor. I swear that I will repay it to the best of my abilities, as long as it doesn't mean harming my family or friends, ok? Do we have a deal?" She wriggled free and brought up her hand between them for him to shake. He stared at it as if it was a dead fish. Her hand wavered. "What, do you need me to scratch out my oath in blood or something?"

He scoffed. "That won't be necessary, my dear. We'll just seal it the old fashioned way." And with that, he swooped forward and kissed her.

XXXXX

It took a second or two for Emma's brain to process what was happening. Hook was kissing her! And the man was good. It was different than she had imagined, in those brief moments of fantasy she would never admit to anyone. It was less demanding, more inquisitive and soft. She had always thought he would just plunder and pillage like a pirate accustomed to a rougher way of life. But he kissed like a courtesan, like kissing was the main event and not just foreplay or deal-sealing or whatever this was. He nibbled along her lower lip, and Emma found herself opening up to him almost without thought. He accepted the invitation and deepened the kiss. Ah. There was the demand, the voracity she'd expected. Now he devoured her like a demon, fisting his hand in her hair. And it was better than good.

After a moment longer than was wise on such a public street, they drew apart.

Emma opened her eyes and was surprised to find her arms had wound their way around Hook's neck. They were both breathing hard and not entirely steadily. When had the situation gotten so out of her control? It was just supposed to be a simple sex spell. No big thing, right? Emma mentally slapped herself for the second time, and decided to play it cool.

She pushed him from her and stepped away from the light post. She raked a hand through her hair, disentangling Hook's in the process. "Ok then, we have a deal. It's all official. Now can we just get going? I have an appointment I have to keep at noon, and I have a feeling being late for it might just be the death of me." She turned to walk away, but stopped and called over her shoulder quietly, "And no more kissing."

Hook gazed at the enigmatic blonde woman walking away. He let out a slow breath and grinned. He did so enjoy a challenge! He hurried to catch up.

They reached the docks after five more minutes of silent walking. Emma's stomach was coiling around and around itself, and she was tense with nerves. Hook noticed, but uncharacteristically said nothing.

They were standing at the end of one of the middle piers before she knew it, and Emma looked around in confusion. "Where's your boat?"

"The Jolly Roger is a ship, love, and she's right here." He grasped her hand and pulled her forward suddenly.

Emma braced for impact with the water, but found herself stumbling onto an invisible gangplank instead. She alternated between, 'bastard did that on purpose!' and 'hey, that's pretty cool', but Hook didn't leave her much time for musing before dragging her further up onto the ship.

Extinguished as suddenly as a candle flame, the invisibility spell dropped and the Jolly Roger was revealed in all her glory. Emma gasped, and Hook allowed her to stop and take in the view. She was standing on a real honest-to-God pirate ship, and she had to admit it was fantastic.

"Gorgeous, isn't she? She has no equal. She's faster and more dangerous than any ship in any fleet in any of the worlds." He ran his hand lovingly down one of the ornately carved railings, and Emma could picture him at the helm, steering through a hurricane while the winds howled around him and his crew scurried to follow his commands. He suddenly seemed every inch the pirate.

"You must have quite a lot of history with this ship."

"Aye, she's a tough old bitch!" He smacked the balustrade playfully. "We've seen our share of adventure, true enough. And we're not through yet. Someday I plan to sail back to Neverland… But one enemy at a time, eh? Now." He walked backwards, guiding her along towards a large door set into the stairs behind the main mast. "Where were we?"

Emma gave one last vaguely concerned glance around the deck before entering the Captain's Cabin, where there were new wonders to distract her.

It was like a museum collection of pirate stereotypes. A massive wooden desk bolted to the floor and covered in all manner of papers, maps, and ledgers took up the center of the room beneath a large round window. Along the wall to her left, built-in bookcases were lined with brass instruments she couldn't even begin to name. Nautical tools, books on navigation, trinkets and treasures from who knows where, all crammed in behind the heavy glass doors. Chests and boxes were scattered throughout, some open to reveal luxurious fabrics and others tantalizingly closed. She found herself slightly disappointed not to find a monkey or at least a parrot. But then she noticed the large iron bed with velvety-looking covers that occupied the space to the right. Oh.

Sometimes when she was nervous, Emma lapsed into stony silence. This was not one of those times. "This is a pretty nice room for a pirate, very comfy and swank. I'd have expected the bones of your fallen enemies and maybe some bottles of rum littering the floor. You have a nice view." She paced over to the window, then peeked over at the bed. "And check out that monster. I bet it weighs a ton, how did you even get it aboard? Probably had the peons do it. No hammock for the captain, I guess!" She laughed, but it sounded forced and died abruptly when she heard the deadbolt slide into place.

She whirled around, but Hook had moved away from the door and was retrieving something from one of the cabinets.

"Of course there is rum, my dear." He brought her an unexpectedly lovely cut crystal glass filled with dark liquid, then went back to pour his own. He rejoined her with a grin, "But if it's a hammock you want, we'll have to head down to the crew's quarters. You can have your pick. Lady's choice, I always say."

"I bet you do." Emma quickly downed the contents of her glass in one shot, then coughed violently, eyes stinging and watering. "Holy hell!"

Hook was eyeing her with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. "Easy there, princess. You may want to take it slow with my fine vintage."

"Fine vintage, my ass! It tastes like rocket fuel!" Emma sputtered and coughed some more.

"While I don't know what a rocket is, I'm fairly sure that was an insult. But I'll forgive you. It seems to be becoming a habit of mine." He raised his glass to her in a silent toast and drank slowly, savoring the rum without breaking eye contact.

Emma took a deep, shuddering breath, then stuck out her glass. "How about another?"

Hook took it without comment and poured her another measure of rum. She had learned her lesson, and took a smaller, experimental sip. It wasn't that bad, really. She'd had worse. Which really said something about her life, but she didn't dwell on that for long. She took another tiny sip. Then another.

Hook's patience was running thin, and he took the glass from her hand, ignoring her cry of "Hey!"

"I didn't mean quite this slowly, darling. As much as I would enjoy a leisurely evening drinking by the fire and telling you of my adventures, that's not why we're here. And I gather we don't have much time."

Emma couldn't disagree, so she watched without protest as Hook put the glasses down on the desk and returned to tug off her jacket. Her heart was racing a mile a minute as his hand moved to the buttons of her white shirt.

"You… Umm. You seem to manage really well with just one hand." Crap, she couldn't believe she just said that. Could she be drunk on less than two small glasses of rum?!

Hook's hand stilled, but only for a moment. "I've learned to manage. Some things are more difficult than others, and took longer to master. Undressing a lady efficiently was one of my top priorities." He grinned at her, and she couldn't help but laugh. It diffused the tension long enough for him to finish unbuttoning her blouse. He skimmed his hand up between her breasts and palmed the shirt off her right shoulder, then her left. It fluttered to the floor.

Ok, the tension was back. She stared at her shoes, and could feel her blush spread down her body. This was ridiculous, she told herself. Nothing to be nervous about. It wasn't her first time; she was twenty-eight years old, for crying out loud. But this felt different, wrong somehow, as if he was using her. Although she was really using him, she supposed. Either way….

"I can tell you are overthinking this," Hook said, breaking into her thoughts.

Emma tore her gaze from the floor and looked at him. "I'm going to be honest with you, this isn't easy for me. I know you've probably had a million women, but I generally don't do this with just any random guy."

Hook chuckled. "While I appreciate the vote of confidence, love, it has hardly been a million. No more than five or six hundred thousand, tops." He winked at her. "I repeat: don't overthink this. It is a simple exchange for mutual favors. Just let yourself go for the next hour. Surely the world and its problems can do without you for that long."

He leaned down to kiss her collarbone and she shivered. But when she felt him reach behind her for her bra fastening, she grabbed his arm. "No, you first. Lose the coat."

With a raised eyebrow, Hook shrugged out of his long leather duster and let it drop to the floor by her shirt.

Emma would rather die than admit it, but it was a damn sexy coat. Without it, he stood before her and seemed less imposing. Less story book character and more real living, breathing man. She jerked her chin towards the general vicinity of his chest. "Shirt, too."

"Demanding, aren't you? I'll allow it." He unbuttoned his black shirt halfway down, then reached back and pulled it up and over his head in one smooth movement.

As he bent down to tug off his boots as well, Emma let herself secretly drink him in. She couldn't deny that he was a fine, fine man. All lean muscle and tan skin. She could see why Cora had chosen to keep him around for so long. Then she immediately had to scour that image from her brain. She hurriedly went to yank her own boots off and the sound they made clunking to the deck was deafening in the otherwise complete silence. In a split-second decision, she also shimmied out of her jeans before she lost her nerve.

Emma looked up and found Hook staring at her hungrily. "Gorgeous," he said, and she didn't know whether to feel insulted or honored that he used the same awed tone of voice as when referring to his ship.

He walked over, circling completely around her. "Hmm, I must say that I like the way women in your world dress. No dozens of petticoats or slips to battle through." He traced the line of her bra strap, then her waistband. "Absolutely gorgeous," he repeated.

He reached for her, but she stopped him. "Wait!" She bent down to retrieve the potion vial from her jeans pocket, along with the crumpled instruction sheet. She smoothed it as best she could along her thigh. "You should know what this involves before we go any further. It gets a little… bloody."

He looked at her, then snatched the parchment from her hand. He read quickly and frowned. "Are you sure about this, love?"

She took the paper back and placed it and the vial on a little shelf above the bed. She didn't realize it, but his eyes followed her every move.

"Yes," she said. "I'm sure. But I'll need a small knife or something."

Hook walked over to her and traced the curve of her neck with his left 'hand'. "Will this do?"

Emma looked down at the razor-sharp point of the appendage and nodded. Hook found her expression of apprehension mixed with determination endearing.

"Don't worry, I'll be mindful of it at other times," he leered.

She rolled her eyes. "You'd better be." Her expression turned serious once more, and she continued, "Oh, and you don't have to cut yourself, the way the spell says. It was meant to be done by both parents of the child, but it's not a requirement. My blood should be enough, ok?"

He didn't reply. Instead, he drew his hook down her shoulder blade and further to snag her bra. With a quick twist, he sliced through the thin strap.

"Hey!" Emma cried. "Was that necessary? These things aren't cheap, you know." She was irritated enough that he was able to pull the whole contraption off her without protest.

"I'll buy you a new one. Ten new ones," he mumbled, his attention elsewhere.

When Emma realized that he was no longer listening to her, and why, she squawked and tried to cover herself.

But Hook wasn't having it. He looped his left arm around her, trapping her arms against her sides. He leaned in to kiss her again, and cupped a breast at the same time.

She gasped, arched her back instinctively, then turned her head to the side. "No kissing."

"Look at me, Emma," said Hook, and she did. "My way, remember?" He slowly leaned in for another kiss, and this time she did not turn away.

He kissed her until she was breathless, and pet her until she felt hot enough to melt into the floor. She was vaguely aware that this wasn't as clinical and detached as it probably should be between two people just exchanging favors, but then she was too busy clutching his hair and neck and shoulders and belt buckle to care.

He walked her backwards, still kissing her, until her knees hit the edge of the bed. She sat down hard and braced herself with her arms behind her, looking up at him. He stared back and impatiently pulled off his belt, flinging it across the room. The sound of his zipper was quieted by the loudness of their breathing, and she stared unashamedly as he pulled off his leather pants.

"You know, there is really no excuse for your huge ego, Hook," she said under her breath, then reached up and pulled him over for another kiss.

After that, there was no more talking for a long while. There was only a tangle of limbs and sweat-soaked skin and her hair fanning across the pillows. There was tension in his muscled back as she raked her nails across, leaving deep scratches, and there were the occasional whimpers and moans that neither would admit to later. It was a battle of wills no one was fully committed to winning, both having been too lonely for too long.

Emma felt light-headed and fierce. She pulled the pirate down and rolled them over, tossing her head back and tracing his chest over his heart. Yes, it was there, beating as fast as her own. Cora didn't have it after all.

Hook felt her hair brush over his thighs and reached up to grab a handful. She had the most beautiful hair, thick and silky. He ran his fingers through the locks and grabbed her hip.

She bent to kiss him again, then stilled long enough to pluck the little red vial from the shelf. "It's time," she said.

He sat up and clutched her closer, rocking slowly as she broke the wax seal. He met her eyes, and she nodded, then tipped the bottle back, contents trickling down her throat. She barely had time to swallow before she felt a burning pain in her left shoulder. She looked and saw the tip of his hook buried in her flesh, not very deep, but enough so that blood flowed freely.

Before she could even think to stop him, he drew the hook down over his own shoulder and met her shocked gaze somewhat defiantly. "Just in case, love."

Moisture gathered behind her eyes, but she blinked it away rapidly. The spell was beginning to take effect, and she could feel it swirling in her belly, trickling out through her wounded shoulder, and gathering heavily in the air around them. She closed her eyes and hugged Hook.

Their movements quickened, becoming frantic, and soon it was all over. They both shuddered as the spell shattered, no longer contained.

Emma rested her head on Hook's shoulder, and felt him stroking her hair again. "Do you think it worked?" she whispered.

"Probably, but we should do it again to be on the safe side."

She bit his shoulder, and he smiled.

She looked up at him and for once, there were no barriers between them. "Seriously, thank you, Hook. What you did for me, for Henry, I really appreciate it. And I won't forget it."

He acknowledged her thanks with an awkward nod, hesitated, then added, "Don't you think you should call me Killian now?" He asked the question casually, but she could sense a deeper meaning hidden just below the surface. When was the last time anyone had called him by his real name?

"Thank you, Killian," she repeated, slower this time, and she could feel him relax a bit further in her arms. It was a start.

She only realized she had dozed off when she awoke to Hook tickling her side. "Wake up, darling. I would love nothing better than you keep you here all day, but didn't you have a meeting at noon?"

"Didn't? What time is it now? Oh my God!" She scrambled out of bed and ran across the room to her clothes, giving Hook a fun show in the process.

"It's only five past, you're not that late." He propped his head up on his hand, watching her dress.

"That's late enough!" she snapped, "Gold is not a patient man, and I still have to grab my stuff from home and-"

"Gold?!" Now he was up and out of bed, striding over to her, uncaring of his nakedness. "You're meeting with the Crocodile? Why?"

Emma paused in buttoning her shirt, sans bra. "I thought I mentioned that already. We're leaving town to go look for his son. That's why I needed the protection spell for Henry."

He grabbed the jacket out of her hands. "No, you absolutely cannot go. That scaly bastard is not to be trusted."

Emma tugged her jacket out of his grip and pulled it on. "Oh, for sure. I don't trust him at all. But I have to go, I owe him. If you're really lucky, I might not even die on this crazy trip and then you can call in your favor, too."

He didn't look happy, and he caught her arm to drag her in for a punishing kiss. "See that you don't die, Emma. I don't need yet another reason to have to kill the Crocodile." He realized what he said, and what he was about to say, and abruptly stopped. "Besides, I don't want to have to break in another ship's wench while you're gone."

She eyed him evilly. "You are really asking for that face-punching, buddy. But I don't have time right now."

"That is a shame. Perhaps you can drop by my quarters again after your little mission, hmm? To punch me… or whatever? Really, when you think about it, at the rate your child gets into trouble, can he ever have too much protection?"

He said this with such an innocent, concerned face, she couldn't help but laugh. "Perhaps I can, Killian, perhaps I can."

And then she was gone.

Hook stared at the closed door for a few minutes, playing the morning over and over in his mind. A surprising turn of events, to be sure, but not an unwelcome one. Then he ran a hand through his hair. He needed to revise his plans.

XXXXX

Emma made it back to the pawnshop in record time, but still found Gold pacing up and down the sidewalk out front, impatient and angry.

"Ms. Swan, so good of you to grace me with your presence. A mere twenty minutes after the agreed-upon time."

"Lighten up, Gold. I'm here now, ready to go. The sooner we start this mission the sooner we can finish it and come home."

He tapped his cane on the sidewalk and gave her a considering look. "Eager to get back are you, dearie? Whatever for? Or rather, whomever for? Your son, of course, but maybe also someone else? Things worked out well with the Hatter, I presume."

"Oh no, the Hatter was a dead-end. But things worked out fantastically with Hook, so all's well that ends well, right? Thanks for the spell, by the way!" She gave his shoulder a friendly smack, and climbed into her car.

The look on his face was priceless.

XXXXX END XXXXX

UPDATE: When I decided to continue this story, I was originally going to add chapters here. However, I will instead do the sequel as a new story, leaving A Good Pirate ended as is. I have already posted the first chapter to the sequel The Long Road Home, so enjoy! And thank you for all the lovely reviews and the suggestions to continue the story, at least until Hook can call in his favor…

;-)