A/N: I wrote this as part of a prompt exercise for swansout on tumblr who asked for "Captain Swan + Only Human"

A Human Reaction

Emma swore under her breath as she dragged Hook's prone form across the foyer, backing her way up to the door of what she hoped was a maintenance closet. He was heavier than he looked. She grunted and strained and his hook scraped across the floor with the same grating whine as the edge of a knife drawn across stone.

Damn it. This looked bad. If anyone walked in and found her like this…

She gave a mighty heave and hauled him up higher against her body, the top of his head pressing against the underside of her breasts, then let herself fall back against the door with a bone jarring thud.

Hook's head bounced off her ribs and flopped to the side.

Man…he was really out.

She bent over to peer at him for a second, suddenly worried that she'd hit him too hard, and was reassured to see the steady rise and fall of his chest through the way too open neck of his shirt. From her vantage point above him, and with her grip on him bunching his leather waist coat, she could see even further down than usual. Her eyes unwittingly followed a trail of dark hair down to where it vanished into mysterious, tantalizing shadow.

Her face warmed with a flush.

What the hell was she doing?

He'd just stabbed Gold for Christ sake.

Emma shook her head sharply, then used her elbow to push down on the door handle.

Please be unlocked. Please be unlocked…

The door unlatched and swung inward with a creak of its hinges, dumping them both into the room beyond. Emma stumbled, then fell, landing awkwardly on her butt with one hand thrown out behind her, the other still wrapped around Hook who settled quite comfortably in her lap.

She sat there for a moment, catching her breath, her hand pressed over the steady thrum of his heart, his head against her stomach.

The closet wasn't as big as she'd hoped. It was dark and musty and stacked with cans of paint, old mops, boxes of lightbulbs, bottles of cleaning solution, and heaps of tile and carpet remnants. There wasn't anything to tie Hook up to. (He'd like that, she thought, when he woke up…to find that she'd tied him up again.) With luck, it wouldn't matter either way. They'd be out of the city long before he woke up.

She slithered out from underneath him and shoved aside what she could to clear a space for him.

Then, when she turned around and saw him on the bare floor, his eyes closed, his face smooth and relaxed and handsome, she hesitated.


She knew she couldn't trust him. He'd proven she couldn't trust him. Time and time again. So why this continued attraction?

Maybe because she sort of understood.

It wasn't like he was evil. He wanted revenge, because Gold had killed the woman he loved. She kind of got that. If anyone ever did something to Henry…

Who was she to judge? Was it really fair to abandon him here, at the mercy of a world he knew nothing about?

Ugh. I don't have time for this.

Irritated with herself, she unrolled a bit of carpet and spread it out on the floor before dragging him the rest of the way into the closet and settling him down on top of it. There was no reason to do anything to make him more comfortable. No reason except perhaps guilt or affection or kindness, but she rationalized that thought away. It was the right thing to do, and she wasn't a monster, after all. She was supposed to be a hero.

A hero who stopped and turned around to look once more at Captain Hook, something weighing down her feet as she tried to walk away. She had no desire to examine why she took a long, hard look at his face, a piece of his dark hair hanging wild over his forehead, his pants drawn tight around his thighs and his hips. Dark and dangerous and…

She sucked in a sharp breath and slammed the door.

It was wrong.


You're only human, she reminded herself as she raced away from him, up the steps and to where Henry and Gold and Neal waited.