Work Text:
Keep your eyes open, my love
So show me your fire, show me your heart
You know I'll never let you fall apart if you
Keep your eyes open, my love
When Emma Swan swore to Captain Hook that she wasn’t keeping her eyes off him for a second, there were a few things she hadn’t realized. The most obvious, of course, was that she hadn’t realized he would turn it into an innuendo. Yet she also hadn’t taken into account how much attention just climbing this damn beanstalk would require.
The wind up here was brutal, the vines weren’t exactly evenly spaced, and the muscles in her arms were burning. In short, keeping her eyes on the pirate wasn’t exactly her highest priority.
“I spent many years in Neverland, home of the Lost Boys. And they all have the same look in their eyes. The look you get when you’ve been left alone.”
Of course, she didn’t have to keep her eyes on him to know he was still there. The man hadn’t shut up since they started climbing. She huffed and blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Trust me, my world ain’t Neverland.”
“But an orphan’s an orphan.”
Emma gritted her teeth. “Just keep climbing.”
“Love has been all too rare in your life, hasn’t it?”
Emma swallowed down her exasperation. She glanced up before pointedly ignoring him as she reached for the next vine.
“Yes. It has.” Something in the way he said it threw her, and she paused in her climbing as he continued. “Tell me, Emma Swan, have you ever been in love.”
She was physically shaken by the way he had read her, but she couldn’t let him see that, so she tossed her head as she glared up at him. “If I answer, will you shut up?”
“For a spell.”
“I’ll take it,” she grumbled, forcing herself to meet his gaze as he smirked. “No. I’ve never been in love.”
She expected him to make some smart-ass comment, but instead, he focused on the climb again, quiet. For a moment anyway.
“You know, I meant it when I said I was hoping it would be you. Now and then, I have to choose a crew I’m going to be stuck with in the middle of the ocean. I have to choose wisely, and I have to choose quickly – and then I have to trust the crew I’ve chosen.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “So the spell’s over, huh?”
“I find conversation distracts from the notion that one misstep equals death.”
She swallowed nervously. “Point taken.”
She pulled herself up a few more vines as Hook paused. When he spoke next, they were almost level.
“I think, Emma, that you and I are the same. Perception, judgment -”
“Save the charms, Cap’n,” Emma cut him off sarcastically, “It’s not gonna work. Climb
faster."
Emma decided to demonstrate what she meant, grabbing for one vine then another with greater speed than before.
“Speed is no substitute for caution,” he said, gesturing with his hook, “that’s not stable. I would do that one.”
Completely ignoring him, Emma grabbed for the one she was reaching for anyway. It broke in her hand, the end of it slicing into her palm. Yet the cut was the least of her worries as she suddenly lost her balance and found herself plummeting through empty air. Suddenly, there was a jerk and a sudden stop. She looked up to see that Hook had caught her by the curve of his steel. She couldn’t believe his audacity as he smirked down at her.
“You should listen to your captain.”
With a groan, he pulled her up until she could find purchase once again. Yet she now found herself shaking all over, her arms turned to jelly. Her eyes were shut tight, though she knew that was a foolish thing to do up here in the clouds.
“Emma, love, keep your eyes open.”
Emma released a long breath and slowly opened her eyes. She hadn’t expected Hook to be so close; his hooked arm was wrapped around her waist, and Emma was wedged between his body and the beanstalk. Of course, if he weren’t holding onto her, she most likely would be falling through the air right now.
“Deep breath,” he instructed her. Her eyes fluttered once again, until his voice admonished, “No, no, open your eyes Swan.”
She did as he asked, and her breath hitched. His eyes were so blue, so . . . calming. He gave her a tiny smile and a nod, and something about that look in his eyes grounded her. She turned to face the beanstalk once again, somehow knowing she would reach the top just fine.
*******************************************************************
Emma had a hard time knowing just how long Henry had been held captive. Time on this island was hard to judge, and her heart ached not knowing what her son might be going through. And the people on this little quest with her weren’t making it any easier. Regina’s constant criticisms on one end of the spectrum, and her parents’ irritating optimism on the other made her unsure who she wanted to punch first. Then there was Hook, who was . . . he just . . . she couldn’t . . . he made her feel . . .
She wearily massaged her brow, unable to put Hook into words. She just didn’t need this right now. She was also hungry, but that at least was something she could handle. She grabbed a bowl and announced that she was going to pick some berries. Just as she turned towards the tree line, Hook took her gently by the elbow with his hardware.
“Just keep your eyes open, love,” he told her softly. His eyes searched hers with intensity.
She scoffed. “I can pick berries without a bodyguard, Hook.”
“Of course,” he said, the smile he gave her a sincere one, “but Pan is calculating and manipulative, and . . . “
He paused, his eyes darting down for a moment. She watched his jaw clench, and without conscious thought, she took a step closer to him.
“I can handle him,” she said with confidence she didn’t necessarily believe.
When Hook lifted his gaze again, his blue eyes held a new softness, a vulnerability. Eyes like the sea after a storm. She almost scoffed aloud at the comparison that flitted through her mind. This was Captain Hook, the villain and incurable flirt, not heroic, romantic Westley from her favorite childhood movie.
“That look I recognized on the beanstalk?” he asked her softly. “Pan will recognize it too. But for him, it will be a weakness to exploit.”
Emma couldn’t have torn her gaze from him if she wanted to in that moment. An understanding passed between them, and she bit back a gasp.
“You didn’t just see it in the Lost Boys, did you?”
He flashed her a charming grin that she could tell was an act. “Like I’ve said before, you’re quite perceptive.”
She gave him a tiny smile before turning to the forest for her berries. Somehow, after that moment, she would find her gaze searching for his. Especially after she had done as Pan wanted, admitting who she was. For there was only one other person in their little band of heroes who could truly understand a lost girl.
***********************************************************
“Must run in the family,” Killian muttered under his breath.
Emma turned to him with a smile upon her lips, and was surprised to see that he was still watching her parents as they walked away. She took in his handsome profile, that strong jaw that clenched when he was angry or worried, the masculine scruff that she still remembered the feel of against her lips and chin, then her eyes darted down to his lips, and she knew what she wanted.
Him. She wanted him.
And it didn’t scare her. When he turned to look at her, she smiled softly even as her heart beat tripled. Those eyes that were so deep, so expressive as they seemed to search her very soul. He didn’t hold her gaze, but instead reached for the book, opening it to see if they had fixed all their mistakes. He laughed with joy, true and genuine, when he saw that they had succeeded. And Emma should have been as focused on the book as he was, but her eyes kept drifting to his, the way they lit up with joy and relief, the way his eyelashes brushed the top of his cheeks. She could admit now that those were eyes that could make any woman swoon. Even Emma Swan.
Later, outside of Granny’s, when she leaned over to press her lips to his, those eyes fluttered shut. So did hers as they drank each other in, but then he was pulling back a bit, even as she chased his lips. His thumb brushed the dimple in her chin.
“Open your eyes, love.”
She did. He smiled. She smiled back. A kiss had never felt like this.
**********************************************************
It had never felt like this. She looked down the length of her naked body, to where his joined hers, and it felt like they were one person. His head was thrown back, his eyes closed, as he thrust deep inside of her, and she reached her hand up to cup his face.
“Open your eyes,” she gasped out.
He did, looking down at her with so much love, it almost undid her completely. It made his eyes a darker shade of blue, just like back at the cabin earlier today. Don't you know, Emma? It’s you. She kept her gaze locked on those deep pools of blue until she arched her back and tumbled over the edge with a cry of ecstasy.
********************************************************
Emma’s eyes were shut tight, her arms around Killian’s waist in a death grip, her cheek pressed to his leather-clad back. The horse slowed, and she felt Killian’s chuckle reverberate beneath her.
“Open your eyes, love.”
Emma did, and pulled away from him with a huff. “How did you know they were closed?”
He turned his head further around and winked at her. “Open book, remember?”
She laughed. Until she glanced to her left and saw him, Rumplestiltskin.
“You’ll only get rid of the tortures in your mind if you take in the scenery,” Killian said gently.
Her expression softened as she looked into his eyes, bright and reflecting the sky above, the corners crinkled with the force of his smile. He clucked to the horse, and they were off like a shot. Emma did as he had asked, she kept her eyes open as the scenery flew past, the wind caressing her face and sending her hair flying.
Every once in a while, Killian glanced back at her, a broad grin on his face. And here, with her arms around him, his smile directed at her, and his eyes shining bright, there was no more darkness.
*********************************************************************
“That’s not enough for me!” she screamed, shaking him as hard as she could as his eyes fluttered shut. No more of the sea after a storm, no more deep blue pools, no more bright skies. She couldn’t let those eyes close forever, so she picked up Excalibur . . .