"Don't touch me." Emma had started to lean into the hand pressed against her shoulder, until she'd remembered who it was attached to and the roiling in her stomach had set back in.

"C'mon Emma, just…" He'd only grasped her arm more firmly, intent on making her look at him.

"The lass said for you to take your hand off of her, Baelfire. I suggest you do it, before she removes it for you. Trust me," Hook pushed himself off of the door frame he'd been leaning against, sea blue eyes flashing dangerously as he glanced between them, "it's no small feat to re-learn life without one." He held his hook up, smiling devilishly as the light glinted off of it, as if to emphasize his point for him.

"Stay out of it, Hook. I stopped being Baelfire a long time ago, and I'm not part of your crew. I don't take orders from you any more." Emma did turn around then, ducking her shoulder away from Neal's touch and taking an almost imperceptible step towards the pirate at the door.

"Get. Out. Neal, or Baelfire; whoever the hell you are, just get out." She felt weary, all the way down to her bones, but on the outside she was fierce and thrust her finger towards the door.

"You're going to make me leave, but not him?" Neal flung out his hands incredulously around him, indicating Hook with a jerk of his head so as not to take his eyes off of Emma. He thought, if he persisted, she'd wear down. How wrong he was.

"Well considering he hasn't tried to touch me yet and it's my house, yeah. He gets to stay." As if summoned to her side by her words, Hook stalked over with a smile that was triumphant and mischievous. A look that made Neal's blood boil. Even more so when the pirate leaned towards Emma and whispered something loud enough he knew Neal would hear.

"Yet, love. I do mean to touch you, Swan." He rocked back on his heels, looking entirely too smug and watched Neal clench his fists. If the boy was itching for a fight, Hook would gladly give him one. Emma simply rolled her eyes upwards, closing them and telling herself to have patience. One problem at a time.

"We're not done, Emma. This conversation isn't finished." Neal spun around and made it through the door, until her voice behind him halted his steps.

"We were finished when you chose not to fight." She stated slowly and with finality, slamming and locking the door before pressing her shoulders against the wood with her eyes closed.

"Lass…" Emma cut him off with a wave of her hand, pushing away from the door and shrugging off her jacket to drop it on a chair by the table. "So that was him, I take it? The man you mentioned you might have been in love with on our first, and last, adventure?" He couldn't seem to help his curiosity, staying close to her as she made her way into the kitchen and began yanking things out of the cupboards.

"Don't, Hook, just don't." Setting two mugs on the counter, she scooped a few spoonfuls of hot cocoa powder into the bottom of them and filled the tea kettle with water before placing it on the stove and snapping it on. Finally facing him, she kicked back to rest her hip against the counter behind her, observing him with a tiredness he hadn't seen in her eyes before. "What do you want, Hook. Why are you here?"

Truthfully he didn't know why he'd followed her home, only that he'd wanted to see her and when he'd seen the crocodile's son waltz into her home, he'd seen red.

"I told you, lass, I mean to have you." He shot for his usual charm, but as he watched her roll her eyes again, he realized he'd fallen short somewhere. "I saw Baelfire and I thought to talk with him about the crocodile, but when I came up…" He brushed his thumb over the cool curve of his hook subconsciously, feathering his touch against it as one might a worry stone, watching Emma carefully. "Let's just say, not everyone can be as much of a gentleman as I am." She smiled a bit then, albeit a slightly mocking smile, but a smile none the less. 'Ah, there she is. That's more like my Swan.' He thought, his smile brightening even as she turned away when the kettle began to whistle.

Pouring the water and dropping spoons into the mugs, she stirred them before snagging the whip cream canister out of the fridge and adding it to the tops of the cocoa, finishing them off with a light sprinkle of cinnamon. Picking up one of the mugs for herself, she gestured the other one to him, casually stepping around to the other side of the counter as he made to take it. Hook had seen people drinking something similar looking at the eating establishment in the center of town, when he'd been observing from rooftops. He got a glimmer of a real smile as he sniffed the beverage and lifted it to her in a mock toast.

"Here's to trustingyou not to poison me, Swan." Taking a cautious sip, he couldn't help the sound of pleasure that rumbled up from his chest, internally enjoying the slight pink tint that crept to her cheeks at the look on his face. "This is marvelous," he remarked, taking another sip as she finally allowed a full smile.

"If you think this is good, just wait until someone makes you the real thing, and not instant." Relaxing around him came easily, and as much as that bothered Emma, she just tried to accept it and poured herself onto one of the bar stools at the counter, kicking the other out for him. "He left me…" She began quietly, trying to stare a hole into the bottom of her mug. Hook stilled with his cup at his lips, moving instead to place it on the counter and seat himself next to her, a careful distance away on her right. "I told him I loved him, helped him steal something that would clear his wanted status and he set me up to take the fall. All because someone told him that that would be what's best for me. He gave up, instead of fighting. He chose to run. He chose to run instead of choosing…" Emma trailed off, feeling her throat starting to constrict with tears threatening make an appearance. She took another sip of her cocoa and cleared her throat for good measure. "Instead of choosing me." She finished solidly. It was done, she couldn't go back and change it, and knowing what she did now, she wouldn't have wanted to even if she could. "I didn't hear from him again until I ran into him while we were looking for Gold's son. That's the watered down version of 's why I freaked out on top of the beanstalk. That's why I left you up there. I couldn't trust someone to promise to help me, and then abandon me, again. I couldn't have taken the chance that you would have sold me out to Cora. I just couldn't."

Hook forgot himself for a moment, moving to touch her hand in comfort and flinching when she jumped as though struck. He looked to her then, quickly pulling a sneer to his face to mask his hurt at her reaction to his touch, but he quickly saw she wasn't looking at him. He followed her gaze and silently cursed himself for being so stupid. Even after three hundred years, he still forgot there wasn't flesh and blood at the end of his left arm. Hook started to draw his namesake away from her, his head jerking up in surprise when her fingers wrapped around the appendage to halt it's retreat.

Emma traced her fingers along the edge of the metal, pressing her thumb gently to the point, until his firm voice drew her out of her trance.

"I would have fought for you, Emma. With everything I had. Every piece of me, even the missing ones." He smiled, feeling himself drown in her surprised gaze as her entire frame stilled at his admission. "Captain Hook would have chosen you," he whispered, moving his hand to wrap carefully around the back of her neck and tunnel his fingers in her hair. "Killian Jones has already chosen you." He prayed like a man lost at sea, pleaded with whatever gods would listen. 'Please, don't take her away too.'

"I picked you." Emma reminded him gently, wrapping her hand fully around his hook and answering the question she saw in his eyes by lifting her free hand to brush his cheek with her fingertips.

Then, like waves kissing the shore, their lips crashed together as they clung to each other. Easily swept out into the sea of their own relief at finally having found a safe harbor.