Title: Second in Command
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Pairing: Emma/Hook
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Spoilers up to "Good Form
Summary: Emma saves Hook from a vicious hangover.
Author's Notes: Written for a prompt. "The journalist awoke to find himself laying in the street with a dog licking his face..." I took out the journalist, but left the dog.
The first thing he noticed was the wet tongue lapping at his face. Over and over again.
The second thing was how hard whatever he was laying on was and how much pain his back was in.
The third thing he noticed was that the owner of the tongue was a rather large, furry dog.
Hook groaned and futilely batted at the dog, trying to get it to stop, before he gave up and rolled to his side, burying his face in the crook of his arm. The dog wasn’t deterred however, choosing instead to just snuffle at his exposed ear.
“Wow. Not even two weeks back in Storybrooke and you are passed out, drunk in an alley.”
Emma. The sound of her voice made him want to curl up and sink back in unconsciousness. Instead, he forced himself to sit up, grimacing as the bright morning light pierced his eyes.
“Actually, love,” he blinked up at her, holding his hand up in an attempt to block out the light. “I think I am past the drunk portion of the evening and well in the hangover part of the morning. "And,” he swayed a little, “in my defense, it was one hell of a fortnight.”
This was true. Not because of any dramatic adventures or near death experiences, or fights with giants, evil queens or dragons, but simply because he was here. A villain living in a town of heroes. No matter what he may have done in Neverland, the residents of Storybrooke were still wary of him. To them he was still Captain Hook, the co-conspirator of Cora, Regina and Greg and Tamara. So they kept their distance. As for the people who were there in Neverland with him… Well, Regina had Henry to focus on, Mary Margaret and her Prince Charming were all over each other since they found a way for him to leave Neverland and Emma… Well, Emma had Neal.
Oh, they said they weren’t together. He’d heard Emma deny it on more than one occasion when asked.
But still there they were: eating lunch together at Granny’s, taking Henry to the park, bickering over who was the official owner of the yellow car Emma drove around. It appeared it was only a matter of time: the three of them together made up a family, and that was something that was very hard to compete with.
So last night he’d decided to visit The Rabbit Hole and get pissed off rum. A lot of rum.
“Why are you here, anyway?” he asked her. He made a valiant attempt at standing up, but slipped when his hand fell short of the step he was reaching for. Behind him Emma sighed. Next thing he knew her hands were wrapped around his arm, pulling up.
“I got a call from the bar owner,” she told him as she wrapped one arm around his waist to support him. The dog that had been licking jumped up on his legs and Emma swatted him down with a firm “No.”
“You got a call--?” he asked, confused. And then he noticed the holster she was wearing, and the badge at her hip.
Sherriff. Right. Looks like he may be sleeping off his hangover in a cell.
Arms still wrapped around his waist, she lead him out of the alley, the dog trailing faithfully behind them. It was still early, the ground still wet from the dew, but out of the alley the morning light was even brighter, and he sucked in a sharp breath, ducking his head as they went out onto the sidewalk.
“Suck it up,” Emma told him. “We’ve got a few blocks to walk.”
They lost the dog after a few steps, and soon after he was able to pull away and walk on his own, the cool morning air doing more to wake him up than being licked in the face did. He was right about where they were going though: Emma bypassed Granny’s-where he had a room-and instead led him right into the Sherriff’s department. But when they got inside she didn’t open the cell door, instead kicking a chair away from the table in front of it.
“Sit.”
He did what said, practically collapsing onto the chair. He buried his face in his arm, hook clanking against the metal of the table as he dropped his arm on top of it. Emma didn’t sit down, instead walking somewhere behind him. A moment later the lights in the room dimmed. Still covering his eyes, he heard her footsteps go into her office and then come back out.
“Here.” He looked up. She was holding her hand out, two white tablets resting in her palm. “To help with your headache.” He looked at her face, to try and gauge her expression, but it was blank. Whatever she felt or thought about finding him passed out on the steps of The Rabbit Hole, it was hidden.
He took the pills, and downed the glass of water she handed him after.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” she murmured. She placed one hand firmly on his shoulder and then she left, going out the door and back onto the street. He watched her pass the window through bleary eyes.
God, his head was killing him. He eyed the cot in the cell wistfully, but ultimately decided against it. No need to encourage her to lock him up. He was surprised he wasn’t already. If wasn’t going to put him in the cell then why was he here?
He was still trying to figure that out when she returned, and with her the wonderful smell of fresh coffee and sausage.
“Oh, you are a goddess,” he exclaimed when she dropped the takeout bag from Granny’s in front of him.
She placed a large cardboard cup in front of him. “I know.” She sat down across from him and snagged the paper bag, opening it up and pulling food out. He ignored the Styrofoam boxes she placed in front of him and focused on the coffee. While living on the Jolly Roger in Neverland he had nothing like this, but in the just short time he’d been in this world he had developed a strong addiction to it.
Across from him Emma drank from her equally large cup. He raised his eyebrows at her.
She lowered the cup. “What? Do you think I’m normally awake this early?”
Ah. No, she probably wasn’t.
They quietly ate their breakfast-two flaky biscuits, jam and something Emma called a “breakfast burrito,” and downed their coffee. By the time he’d finished ,the pills she’d given him had kicked in and his headache was almost gone.
He watched Emma finish the last of her food and crumple her napkin, tossing it into the empty Styrofoam box. “So,” he started, “not that I don’t appreciate the food, love, but why did you bring me here? You could have just as easily dropped me off at my room.”
She stared contemplatively at him, one fingernail idly scratching at the side of the box. Then she sat forward, folding her forearms together on top of the table. “Well,” she said, “the Sherriff’s department is usually where the Deputy works.”
He leaned back in his chair, eyebrows raised. “Deputy?”
She shrugged. “The position is open if you want it. You proved yourself capable in Neverland.”
“And here I thought David would be serving as your second in command.” Or Neal, but he didn’t exactly want to bring that up to her.
“Right.” She gave a slight roll of her eyes. “Because being your father’s boss always works out.”
He scratched the back of his head lightly with the curved part of his hook. “Yes, I can see how that might be a problem. “And so you believe that I am eager to take orders from you?” He stressed the word orders, deliberately allowing his eyes to run down her body as his lips curled into a suggestive smirk.
“Hardly,” she drawled. “But I do think you need something to do around here.”
She said it without question, meeting his eyes from across the table, her mouth forming that straight, serious line he knew so well, and he couldn’t help but think back to another time she looked at him like that.
You and I. We understand each other.
He looked away, eyes scanning over the station he could soon become very familiar with. “I suppose I do at that,” he conceded. He glanced back at Emma just in time to see a small smile soften her expression.
“Good.” She stood up, gathering the remains of their meal and stuffing them in the paper bag. “I’ve got to walk Henry to school.” She pointed her finger at him. “You go home and sleep off that hangover. You start tomorrow.”
She tossed the paper back in the garbage and walked away from the table. But halfway to the door she paused and turned around. “And do you have anything else to wear? “ She eyed his long leather coat and black open neck shirt doubtfully.
“I’ll see what I can come up with,” he assured her.
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She shot him another one of those small, almost shy smiles, and then she was out the door.
Hook stayed where he was, turning over this new development in his mind.
Emma’s Deputy. That meant that he would work with her-spend time with her-nearly every day. And her asking proved that she trusted him, depended on him, even. He smiled slowly. Oh yes, he could work with that. He may even manage a repeat of that thank you kiss.
He nearly leapt to his feet-hangover suddenly forgotten-and headed out the door, still smiling.
He had no intention of going to his room at Granny’s however. First things first: he needed to find somewhere he could buy new clothes.