Once Upon a Time 1. Chapter 1

Standard Disclaimer Time! I do not own Once Upon A Time or it's characters. Nor do I make any money off of this story. It is done purely for entertainment purposes.

-Michelle

It begins with a look, two pairs of eye meeting from across the bar. Neither one of them means to do it, but it happens all the same. Grieving blue meets a gaze equally full of sorrow, sparking reaction in the two.

The woman is the first to look away, to glance down at the mug she's nursing. Hook stares at her a moment longer, then turns away with the startled realization that he KNOWS her. He might not know her name, or where she's from, but he knows where she spends her nights. Or at least part of them, Hook acknowledging that she's always at the tavern long before he arrives, and is there long after he leaves. And always, she just sits at the bar, nursing the same drink, with the same despondent look in her eyes.

It's a look he knows well, Hook having seen it in his own mirror. It's been reflected there since the day Mila had died, the woman savagely murdered by her own coward of a husband. On that day, a part of Hook had died as well, his heart all but torn from his chest the way Mila's had been.

His sole remaining hand, tightens on his mug, Hook staring off at nothing with the memories. He doesn't realize his grief shows all the more, or the fact that the woman is looking at him once again. Staring at him with an open mouthed recognition, sorrow eyed sympathy shown his way. She can't possibly know what he's been through, but she acknowledges it as a twin to her own grief.

The woman quickly looks away, when she realizes he has noticed. Hook can't help but stare at her, wondering what-WHO had put that similar look of pain in her eyes. His own sympathetic gaze is cast on her, knowing her for what she is. A woman whose heart had been broken, just like Hook's had.

It didn't matter the circumstances of her situation. He wasn't looking to make a friend. Wasn't looking for anything except a minute or two of relief, the kind of peace drinks alone could not grant him. And yet he kept turning back to her, studying her, noticing things beyond the sad blue of her eyes.

Like her hair, which was a rich chestnut brown color, full of long curls that were draped over the front of one shoulder. She wore a pretty blue dress, with white frills and gold lace. She had a shapely figure, and a beyond lovely face. She was beautiful, even in her torment, Hook wondering why anyone would ever want to hurt her, to tear the smile off of her face.

But he wasn't going to ask, wasn't going to even think of the potential reasons for her hurt. Because if he did, he'd want to kill someone, want to hunt down the monster who made this beautiful woman hurt so badly. And that was something he couldn't devote time or energy to, Hook having a mission, a single minded purpose, existing all on the desire to avenge his broken heart, Mila.

He thinks of raven black hair then, of ivory pale skin, and piercing eyes that seemed to see past his swagger, to the man Hook was-had once been inside. Mila, always able to make him feel things, exciting and new, revealing unexpected facets of Hook, still affected him now. But it was all dark in his head, his eyes a blue dulled with his sadness.

Coins clattered on the bar's counter, Hook leaving his drink unfinished. He wouldn't even look again at the woman in blue, stalking towards a side exit of the tavern. It was raining outside, a cold spray heavy enough to send the townspeople fleeing indoors. Hook lingers undecided for one moment, then steps out into the rain. Someone follows behind him, and Hook wonders who can be that foolish. Especially when they follow him into an alley, Hook turning, grabbing at an arm, then hearing a woman gasp. Hook might have gasped too, staring shocked for one moment, at the woman from the bar. Then reason comes back to him, Hook gripping her arm tighter, forcing a pained sound out of her.

"Why did you follow me?!" He demands, his harsh sounding voice making her flinch for one moment, before she gathers up her courage.

"I wanted to ask...wanted to know if it will get better."

He doesn't have to ask her what she means by that, not when they match each other so perfectly in the pain that they feel. Nor can he give her an answer, any hope, Hook just shrugging back.

The woman seems to deflate before him, as though what little hope she had been clinging to, has now fled. And still she is beautiful, even as the rain soaks her down, and plasters her hair and clothes against her.

She doesn't seem at all fearful that she is alone in an alley with a stranger. Has she gone stupid from the pain, or does she simply not care what could happen to her? But he knows the answer already, Hook too having long having abandoned caring if he lived or died, simply existing instead.

"This is no way to live." Hook mutters out loud, and the woman nods. But what choice do they have, when caught in the grip of their own private heart breaks.

"I just want it to stop." The woman confesses. Is she starting to cry? But with the rain on her cheeks, he can't tell tears from drops. "I just want the pain to go away, to feel something other than this heart break."

It is then that Hook realizes he is still gripping her arm, and that she's not even attempting to get away. In fact she moves towards him when he pulls, her head tilting back just enough to keep on looking him in the face.

He's not the one she should be looking to for comfort. He can't even fix his own heart, let alone another's. Not with the pain so fresh, so new. The wound Mila's death has dealt him, festers inside him, hollowing out his heart so he can feel nothing of love and hope and happiness.

The grief that is so relentless inside of him, goes blessedly quiet the instant his mouth covers hers. It's not true peace he has attained, the kiss unable to keep his sorrow away for forever. But it will do the job for at least a few minutes, Hook realizing he wants to lose himself in this woman. And from the eager way she is attempting to kiss him back, he realizes she feels the same way.

The kiss isn't anything like the ones he had shared with MIla. This woman more an inexperienced girl, than practiced seductress. She doesn't know at all what she is doing, but what she lacks in expertise, she makes up for in enthusiasm. Kissing with the same raw need, and desperation that Hook feels, wanting to know something other than the pain. Hook can only marvel at what a fool the person who had broken her heart must have been, the woman eager for kisses, for just even a little affection. It's downright criminal for one to have ignored her, to have refused lips as sweet as hers. It makes him want to teach her, to show her what it felt like to kiss and be kissed back.

She makes a soft, startled sound, but doesn't outright hesitate when his tongue twines with hers. He makes his own groan of sound, deeply gratified when she laves her tongue back, the woman learning the play of it, and seeming to enjoy it.

Hook enjoys it too, his hand letting go of her arm, to catch instead at her hair. Gripping it and her steady, then losing his own focus when her hands touch his sides. It's over his coat, and probably means nothing more than an attempt to keep her balance, and yet the mere idea of this woman touching him anywhere, makes him wild. Frenzied, Hook walking her back, pinning her against the alley's brick wall.

Kissing her harder, then pulling back, his forehead lightly resting against her. Water pours off both of them, the two staring into each other's eyes. Both of them are panting, their heavy breaths echoing oddly amidst the rain. Hook stares and sees not confusion, but a lost, helpless look, the same one he is wearing. They both want peace, they both might want someone to share the pain, but most of all they both want this moment, the woman issuing out a breathy plea.

"Don't stop."

He couldn't, not even if she had begged him to do otherwise. He needed her, needed the comfort she could provide. Hook didn't care that this was insane, that this didn't solve anything, for him or for her. He just wanted, and as a pirate, he was used to taking that which he desired.

It wouldn't be anything like she deserved. He couldn't, wouldn't show the care a woman such as this needed, couldn't allow himself to make this moment into something more than it was. He was not some hero in a story, and she was not his happily ever after. Hook didn't even believe there was a chance for him, not daring to wish for more, to want for anything more than revenge and a quick death after.

This time when he kissed her, it was almost angry but Hook didn't know who that feeling was for. Himself or for her, or for the things that could not be, the future they could not give each other.

His tongue harsh, his lips bruising, Hook kissed her as though he would devour the woman whole. She tried to match his pace, to match the near violent intensity he displayed, mewling sounds escaping out her throat. Her hands clutched at his coat, the woman feeling so small trembling against him, but ever so soft, so pliant.

Knowing she had to be freezing from the rain, he STILL sliced through the laces of her dress' back with the hook that had taken the place of his lost hand. The dress didn't immediately fall down to her waist, too rain soaked to do anything but cling to curves he was sure was perfect. Hook nearly groaned with impatience, wanting her bared to the waist, not wanting to take the time to tug and pull down her tight bodice.

It proved more than worth the effort, Hook rewarded with a sight that was glorious. Round, full breasts, with small but rosy looking nipples, rain water leaving slick trails all along her freezing skin. He hadn't even needed to touch her, the chill making those nipples stand out. Greedy, he tasted one, his open mouth enveloping it fully. The woman seemed to jerk back in surprise, a hitch to her breath a moment before she arched her back and pressed her breast more firmly against his lips. And then she was moaning, Hook's mouth teasing, making the woman shiver and shake against him.

Her hands went to his hair, holding, encouraging him. His hand went under her dress, kneading the inside of her thigh for just a moment. And then he was pressing his knee against her, forcing her legs apart, making her straddle him. She mewled, and tugged on his hair, forcing him up from her breasts so that they could kiss once more.

Tongues seeming to duel against one another, Hook's hand dropped to the front of his pants, fingers more clumsy than they should be. Somehow without the aid of his hook, he got the leather open, his cock springing free erect, and touching her. She shifted to see, and that was when he tore off the voluminous amount of fabric that served as her under garments, Hook hauling the woman onto him.

She cried out, her nails digging into him in retaliation for the hurt he had done her. There was the pained glimmer of tears in her eyes, the woman looking almost betrayed. Hook wondered if that was the same look she had given the man who had broken her heart, then quickly shrugged free of all thought, not wanting to give in to anything like guilt for having hurt her.

Keeping her pinned against the wall, Hook began to move. Not caring about her, about anything but the moment, and the fact that it was silent in his head. Revenge, Rumplestiltskin, even Mila was forgotten, Hook in the moment, his lean but powerful hips working. Forcing his way into the deepest part of her, feeling every inch of her passage work to expand and give way, and still remaining gloriously tight.

He cried out, not recognizing his own voice. Not aware of anything except the all consuming lust that pitched through him, Hook feeling frenzied and feverish. Needing to come, and not wanting the moment to end, his hips bucking wildly, with little art or expertise, Hook bit down on the crook of the woman's shoulder. She cried out too, but he couldn't make out the words, his tongue laving over the bite mark he had left her. His good hand lay flat against the wall besides her, Hook ruthlessly driving himself into her, relying on the bricks to hold against their combined weight.

Her nails were drawing blood, the woman's breasts bouncing with each thrust. He could feel wetness that didn't have anything to do with the rain or her maiden's blood, the woman's body at last accepting his, though it's attempt at preparations had been woefully delayed. Hook knew he should have helped her, should have eased her into her first sexual experience better. For that matter he shouldn't have taken her in some side alley, should have given her the bed and comforts a virgin would have required. A dozen more should ofs came to mind, and were quickly dismissed, Hook knowing it too late to change anything, even the fact that he was about to come, and she was not.

His cock actually jerked inside her, his climax erupting harder than he could ever previously remember. He actually thought he saw stars, so dazed was he by the orgasm, standing there, going flaccid inside her. Both of them were breathing heavy, Hook resting his head on her shoulder. And as his breath began to even out, the memories began to come back. First trickling in, then becoming a full out flood, Hook remembering it all, Mila, Rumplestiltskin, the horrific murder of his loved one, the need for revenge. And besides it, was the memory of the woman he had just had sex with, Hook not daring to look at her face, not wanting her betrayed expression to add to his future torments.

Not looking at her, he pulled out, and then set her down none too gently on her feet. He'd go to take a step away from her, and she'd sway, Hook spinning to catch her in his arms. It was an uncharacteristic moment, Hook feeling bad for what he had done, how he had treated her. He'd feel worse when she recovered, her hand slapping hard across his face.

"Beast!" The woman proclaimed, hurriedly pulling up her dress a moment before she took shaky flight off into the night. Hook didn't try to stop her, fought even the desire to turn and watch her run away. His cheek hurt, the woman having struck him hard enough to leave a mark of her own. He deserved worst, his shaking hand touching first his cheek, and then his lips where the taste of her still lingered.

The encounter had been a mistake, he was sure of it. One he wouldn't be repeating. With her, with any woman, Hook deciding this was the last time he'd be unfaithful to Mila's memory. It didn't matter that it seemed an unreasonable promise, Hook hating himself in the moment. Swearing off sex, off drinking, and off beautiful strangers who wore pretty dresses. Especially ones whose eyes were as hurt as his.

So...*twiddles thumbs* Okay...this...I feel like I failed a little. Like I couldn't get this to match up to the idea in my head. Like the sex and stuff wasn't as despairing as I had wanted it to be. I was also going to treat this as a one shot, but write a separately titled sequel...but I think instead of separating the two, I'll just keep the updates together, and make it one multi chapter story.

Just worry, it might end up causing me not to write this other story I was thinking about. Too many ideas...ay yi yi...

For those wondering about Restraint, I have not abandoned that fic! I was just resting a little, only writing a chapter a day if I was lucky for ANY of my Once fics. But Restraint will continue. If not tonight, then hopefully in the next few days. I still want to try to write next chapter of the untitled triangle fic first (Which would be chapter eight)...but we'll see how I'm inspired after I finish my exercise walk. ^^;;

Still gotta figure out how to handle the start of the next chapter. Let's just say, it will be a time skip. X_X

To Be Continued...

Michelle


	2. Chapter 2

He did not last even two days, before he was back at the tavern. Not even a full forty eight hours had gone by, and yet Hook was there, actively looking for the woman. She was not at her customary seat at the tavern's bar, the little stool having remained empty for over an hour. Nor was she at any of the tables, though Hook was sure many of the men here would have killed for the chance to have such a beauty join them. He couldn't blame them. Not when he felt similar.

Hook could have laughed then, if only there was even the slightest thing amusing about the situation. But there wasn't, Hook dreadfully sober, driven to needs he didn't quite understand or like. But the fact remained, he needed to see the woman again. Hook wished it was for unselfish reasons, almost wished he was driven by the need to make amends for what he had done to her. He wasn't, Hook driven solely by the desire to find and fuck the woman, to have her bring him to that quiet place where nothing mattered except the few minutes of pleasure he got from pounding into her body.

He needed that quiet almost more than he needed air to breathe. He craved it, any pleasure he could have gotten secondary to the blessing that a few minutes of peace could be. Now, with the memories haunting him, the dreams-nightmares bringing to new levels of intensity his grief, suffering and sorrow, Hook just wanted a break from it all. He wanted to exist for one second without the memory of Mila's eyes, and her brutal murder torturing him.

Most of all, he didn't want to remember the way the light had gone out of her eyes, the life snuffed out of her before Hook could even whisper one last I love you. He wanted to forget completely, but was cursed to know that was impossible. That moment, and a hundred others, were forever seared into his mind, both the good and bad times blurring together into one painful throbbing wound that festered even now.

Unwell, he had latched onto the only port in the storm. To a woman who was suffering in a similar manner to Hook. He wasn't yet to the point of unhealthy obsession, Hook half hoping it had been a fluke what had happened. Half hoping but terrified to find out either way, Hook not knowing what he'd do if it didn't work, if the quiet didn't come. Worse yet was what he would do if it did happen again, and the lengths he would go to, to make sure it kept on happening.

Not sure what outcome to pray for, Hook stay seated at his corner table. It was in direct line of the tavern's entrance, Hook watching stone faced in the hopes that each arrival would be HER. It never was, another hour passing. His table became littered with drinks, all untouched. The tavern waitress could only shake her head in bemusement, not understanding the point to wasting his gold on something he refused to drink.

It was a small price to pay, if Hook could remain in the tavern, the drinks just an excuse to keep the table reserved for his use alone. He had a feeling he'd be there for hours more, and yet still the woman did not show, Hook wondering why. Growing angry with frustration, and wondering how badly had he hurt her that she now chose to avoid the one place they had in common.

The third hour would see Smythe's arrival, the short, older man making a beeline for Hook's table. He wouldn't wait for permission, taking hold of one of the drink mugs and plopping his fat ass down on the stool.

"Her name is Belle." Smythe announced before taking a big swallow of the drink. Immediately, Hook's attention was all for the red cap wearing man, anticipation, need stirring within him. "She hasn't been back to this place since."

Hook frowned. Was he that distasteful to her, that she'd alter her nights, change her routine so completely? Even after she had liked his kisses, if not the outcome that they had led to? He nearly groaned out loud, Hook coming closer to realizing how thoroughly he had botched things with her. Treating her little better than a whore, using her with no regard to the fact that before she had met him, she had been a complete innocent.

"I'd ask what went on between you two..." Smythe began, in between drinks. "But I hazard I can guess."

"The details are not any of your concern." growled Hook in warning. "You need only to locate her."

"Ah that..." Smythe kept him waiting, savoring Hook's impatience more than the drink in his hands.

"Yes that." Hook grit out, having to remind himself that Smythe was useful, he should not kill him. After all, Smythe had a talent for finding that which was lost. Be it information, items, or even people.

"I must say, Belle is proving almost harder to locate than any information on your other quarry."

Hook felt an irrational rage at hearing her name on Smythe's lip. The older man seemed to read the anger in Hook's eyes, nervously setting down his drink.

"I found a room." Smythe finally revealed. "She's been staying at a nearby inn."

Something close to relief starting to flood through him, and then the rest of what Smythe had said, registered.

"Been staying? As in she's no longer there?"

"It's the strangest thing really..." Smythe stated. "Seems she's up and disappeared."

"Disappeared? Nonsense." Hook scoffed even as his stomach clenched in unease.

"People are unexpectedly uncooperative, on revealing just what happened." Smythe continued. "I've heard several stories, all remaining unconfirmed on just where she could have gone. Anything from her leaving to track down some beast terrorizing a town, to her having gotten a job cleaning for some rich noble."

Both seemed equally absurd, Hook unable to imagine her as a hunter of monsters, or just a servant.

"What do you believe to be the truth?"

"Couldn't really say." Smythe offered apologetically. "The only thing is, she left in such a hurry, she didn't take the time to gather her things."

A spark of interest filled Hook. "They're still at the inn?"

"Every last one." Smythe confirmed. Hook abruptly stood, tossing enough coins on the table to cover the drinks. "Captain?"

"Keep your eyes and ears sharp Mr. Smythe." Hook told him.

"That goes without saying. But..." A worried Smythe frowned. "What do you intend to do?"

"I'm going to do a bit of snooping of my own." retorted Hook, something that could almost be an unpleasant smile crossing his lips.

Smythe seemed to shiver to see it. "All right...but..." Hook gestured impatiently for Smythe to continue. "Has...our focus changed?" He hastened to explain. "I mean...for over a year now, you've been obsessed with tracking HIM down. Now all of a sudden, you have me break from searching out info about HIM, to look for some girl? I just wonder why."

"I think I might have lost my mind..." A wry look then. "Or whatever of it was left. But no, Mr. Smythe. My focus remains the same. I will find the crocodile, and I will have my revenge. One way or the other."

"But the girl?"

"Have you ever been in love Mr. Smythe?" The older man shook his head no. "Then you wouldn't possibly understand what moves me now."

"I suppose you're right. But really...love seems to be nothing but trouble."

"That we can agree on, Mr. Smythe." Hook said without any amusement. He'd pause only long enough to get the name of the inn from Smythe, then hurry to it. Located a few blocks from the tavern, it was one of the more reputable inns. A finer class of building then Hook was used to staying in. Not that he couldn't afford such a place, but Hook had never been one for sleeping in such establishments. Not when brothels offered a cheaper and more satisfying solution to the one need he'd have for an inn.

He couldn't even imagine bringing a whore to a place this nice. Hell, he couldn't imagine them renting out the rooms by the hour, not in a place so clean and well cared for. A family establishment, both in the people who ran it and the customers who used it.

And yet the desk clerk wasn't above being bribed, not only telling Hook what little he knew of the woman, but letting him into her room. A few more gold coins got Hook the privacy he required, the pirate feeling like some kind of stalker as he moved about the bedroom, touching her things. She had enough dresses for every day of the week and then some, the woman clearly well off financially. He wondered about that, wondered about a woman that rich traveling on her own.

She should have been surrounded by attendants, by servants and body guards. She should have been treated like a princess, not frequenting some tavern to fall prey to the first pirate that came along. Even if that pirate had been him, Hook knowing what effect he was prone to having on ladies.

Frowning, he walked around her room, trying to learn more about her. Finding a surprising number of books, the woman well educated enough to be able to read. In the bathroom, he found her pretty blue dress, the laces still damaged, the skirts stained withsome spots of her blood and his come. He should have cringed with guilt, instead a sensory memory came to him, Hook remembering how it had felt inside her, with his mind blessedly focused on nothing but pleasing himself.

His fingers turned crushing on the dress' bodice, and then he abruptly jerked back as if stung. Stumbling back into the bedroom, knowing he would find no real clues, and yet lingering anyway. Ending up by the bed, pulling the sheets back, and smelling them. Smelling her, her sweet scent still lingering faintly there. It was different from the other night. Then the rain had clung to her skin, fresh and overpowering much of her sweetness.

Inhaling deeply, the scent of strawberries and cream coming to mind, Hook groaned and laid down flat on the bed. Stretching his arms out, imagining what it would be like to have her resting against him. To have her in this bed with him, Hook actually showing her the care and tenderness a woman like her was entitled too.

Groaning, Hook rolled onto his stomach. He got a face full of pillow, smelling the scent of her hair there. Another sensory memory, Hook remember when he had bit the woman's shoulder. She had cried out, Hook breathing in the scent of her hair as he moved his tongue over the bite mark in apology. But he hadn't really been sorry, Hook having worked on instincts alone. Now that he was here, and could think about it, it was arousing to think the woman was walking around marked by him.

It'd be even better if she was here now, where Hook could look upon the bite mark with pride and possession in his eyes. Where he could cover her with similar, biting down on tender flesh to make her cry out like that again. Her cries of the other night seemed to echo in his mind, Hook shifting, finding his arousal reaching that uncomfortable state.

There was no one around to see, to hear, Hook lifting up enough to get the front of his pants undone. He kept his face down on the pillow, nostrils flaring to get more of her scent. He really was going crazy to even think about stroking himself off in the stranger's rented room at the inn. And yet here he was, his remaining hand grabbing almost roughly his stiffening length.

A few strokes back and forth along his length, and his cock stiffened further. His fingers tightened their grip, his hand a squeezing fist. He didn't start moving his hips right away, just using his hand, a teasing he almost never engaged in. But he was too busy calling to mind the memory of that rain soaked night, remembering the kisses shared, and the sweet, enveloping heat that had coiled tight around his cock. Remembering the near mindless pleasure, and the way the woman had been crying out, the memory of her sounds goading him on, and then Hook was pumping, hips moving like a mad thing. Frenzied, frenetic, Hook trying to make his fist as tight as the woman's virginal body had been. Failing, almost cursing over the fact he couldn't replicate the sensations of her all too pleasing body, Hook was growling into the pillow one minute, then breathing deeply the next.

Wilder yet, thrusting as violently as he could into his moving fist, Hook couldn't come fast enough. Literally, the climax drifting just out of reach, taunting him. He bit down on a pillow to hold in his infuriated scream, Hook half crazed and knowing if the woman were to walk in on him at right this moment, he'd have pounced on her like some wild animal.

No worse than a wild animal, Hook having a clear purpose in mind. Throwing her down onto the bed, not even taking the time to rip her out of her clothes. Just throwing one of those lacy skirts over her head, finding the slit in her panties, and digging his tongue in. Working that muscle until she was as desperate with need as him, her body soaked in proof.

And then later, when he had calmed down, when he wasn't so blinded by lust, he'd spend the time needed to learn everything about her body. To learn just how to lick her to make her squeal, to find just the spot to touch with his fingers that sent her arching off the bed. So many things to try out, Hook knowing every woman was different, and having enough variation in his skills to believe he could satisfy every single one, even one he had hurt, like he had hurt Belle.

Belle.

It was the first time he had actually used her name, and now it was like a mantra, whispered over and over to the pillow. He was sweating, panting, moisture beading on the tip of his cock. It was painful, the skin red and throbbing. He began pounding his hook on the mattress, tearing up the sheets. Shouting her name, hips giving a mighty seize forward and instant before he jettisoned come all over the sheets.

His body gave a few more spastic thrusts forward, but there was nothing left to shoot, Hook empty for the moment. Empty in more ways than one, the lustful haze receding to the realization that he hadn't been thinking about Mila, about her murder, or about Rumplestiltskin. Not in the minutes that had just happened, or the time before it, when Hook had gone through the woman's things. Hell, even at the tavern, the instant Smythe had announced her name, Hook had been too focused on finding her, to think about anything. Let alone let his grief and anger consume him.

But now they came, brought to life by the mere realization of the lack of them. Catching him in their grip, making him rage, Hook choking back a sob. Wondering what was wrong with him, what spell the woman had cast over him to make him forget such pain when she wasn't even in the room with him. Feeling shame faced that just thoughts of her could make him so crazed, and feeling worse guilt as Hook realized he really would do just about anything to have her. To force her to stay by his side, and in his bed.

It wasn't love. It was desperation through and through. It was crazy, it was wild, and yet she, Belle, made everything seem all right for just a while. For a man like Hook, who hadn't had real peace of mind in over a year's time, she was everything he needed. A need Hook was finding, that would justify any means...

To Be Continued...

So...okay I had trouble with this chapter. This is actually the third attempt, and each attempt was different. The first one I got a couple of pages, and was doing the time skip thing, and well...it's just while adequate (but not great) when Hook and Belle met up again, it just...meh. I hadn't done enough setting up to show his feelings, his need for her, for that peace he gets with her. No wonder I got stuck on their conversation in that attempt.

The second attempt was MUCH shorter before I gave up on it. It started with Hook dreaming about Mila, sexing her up, and then she turned into Belle and he woke up. It still wasn't working out like I wanted.

Now this third attempt I am content with. Whoo! But I'm still worrying about HOW to handle my time skip for next chapter. And yes, there will eventually be Belle POVs...but right now it's probably still going to be a Hook POV for three.

So..hopefully three will shape up better for me, in that I won't keep trashing pages of writing before I'm satisfied. ^^;;

-Michelle

The Biggest Nerd You'll Ever Know thank you! I hope this story doesn't disappoint. I say that because... Aw man...I was feeling good about this second chapter until I paused to think a while. Now I have doubts floating around my head. Not enough to get me to stop writing though...but still doubting is no fun. But thank you so much! I was happy to read your comments. :)

K-Milah, aw! *Hugs* you make me happy with the comments, so it seems a fair trade! :D Thanks by the way! I also like that I can keep you guessing with what might come next here! ^_-

sn-46, aw thank you! Brilliant eh? Well...I'll modestly deny it! XD Gonna keep trying my best to update this and Restraint and the other once fics! Even if I've become a slow poke. *sweatdrop*

Kendra Luer, thank you! Tragic and intriguing, a good response to it. I am pleased! Ah...I am currently being hit hard by doubts...but trying to ignore them. And laughing at the idea of Hook going all stalker on Belle...:-p But I think it's safe to assume her reaction when they encounter each other once more, is not gonna be completely thrilled. XD


	3. Chapter 3

His descent into madness wasn't a slow thing, Hook feeling as though he was plummeting headfirst into an abyss. To a place where rhyme and reason made no sense, Hook living on desires, on needs. Tortured by the lack of relief from the memories, from his grief, Hook was raging one minute, sobbing the next. Drinking, gambling, womanizing. Picking fights with both his crew and strangers, Hook not caring if they pounded him into oblivion if it meant he'd get even a single moment of blessed peace.

Nothing was working. Even if he drank himself sick, the memories remained. If anything they came on stronger, Mila more vivid than he could ever remember her actually being. Their past colored with sorrow, even the good moments, the happy ones of which there had been plenty, ruined by the taint of her death. Her murder at Rumplestiltskin's hands.

Already driven to desperate lengths in his quest for relief, Hook truly tried everything. Including sampling the finer selection of woman in the port town. Whores and nobles alike, it didn't matter. He wasn't picky, taking what he could get, paying for what he couldn't. Hoping to find the relief that so eluded him, to prove that the woman, Belle, was nothing special. That she hadn't become as necessary to his mental well being as air was to his lungs.

How many women did he try, in the week that followed? How many failures left Hook despondent, disgusted with himself, and irritated that he had been driven to such lengths. But his whoring ways only proved one thing, proved that the time with Belle hadn't been some fluke, that she was a vital piece he was missing.

It was terrible, it was horrible, Hook feeling as though he had let that vital piece slip carelessly through his fingers. Wishing and wondering what would happen if he had done something just a little different. If he had shown her the care she deserved, or if he hadn't let go of her that night, but instead carried her off as spoils to his ship. If he got another chance, he wouldn't let her go, he'd keep her even if it meant making a prisoner out of Belle, his desperate need just as strong as any shackles he could use.

He didn't understand it, didn't quite properly know what was happening, what had tied them together. Had grief really been the draw, or was there something more at work there, something he couldn't quite fathom. It didn't matter. Hook knew what he needed, and was going mad with the needing of Belle.

Driven to be with her, to be near her, Hook often returned to her room at the fancy inn. The desk clerk was only to glad to take his coins, remaining circumspect about the things Hook did inside Belle's bedroom. Those first two nights, Hook spent reveling in the fading scent of her on the bed sheets. Feeling like a pervert, not just for that, but for the fact he stroked himself off to unsatisfying climaxes, while crushing a dress of hers to him. Wanting Belle, not getting her, and feeling reduced to less than a man with this need fixating him to her.

But he couldn't stop it, the absence of her doing nothing save to make Hook worse. He was spending more nights at the inn, than on his own ship, Hook lying in wait in the hopes that Belle would one day walk in through the bedroom's front door. He lived for that moment, imagining it. Fantasying about it, and the things he would do. Not all of them were pleasant, Hook sometimes wanting to punish Belle for running from him. For making him go through the agony of this separation. Those fantasies excited him, even the violent forceful ones, Hook not always in the state of mind to coax a surrender out of her.

By the third day her scent had faded completely, the sheets smelling like Hook now. He kept on returning to the room, taking fitful periods of rest, but more often than not merely waiting, sleep eluding him save for the moments right after he spent himself on fantasies.

A full week would pass, Hook having familiarized himself with all of Belle's belongings. Learning the kind of stories she liked to read, the perfume and oils she preferred to use, even finding a pressed rose preserved between the pages of one book, it's color long faded. He wondered about that rose, wondered what it's significance was. And just as quickly knew it had to be a gift from an admirer, from the one who had hurt her in the first place.

The rose didn't survive that jealous realization, Hook crushing it in his fist. A single thorn had remained on the stem, cutting into Hook's palm. He'd freeze and stare at the blood, ready to laugh when a loud and familiar knock sounded on the door.

"Come in Mr. Smythe."

As usual, the man had his red cap on. He'd take it in hand, nervously fidgeting with the knit wool as he looked around the room. Hook knew it was a sight, Belle's things littered about the place, dresses on the floor, books and trinkets on the bed. It looked like a whirlwind had torn through this place, but in actuality it had been just Hook raving wild.

"Well?" Hook demanded, his voice sharp and strained. He so badly wanted Smythe to deliver him some good news for a change, to give him the lead Hook was so desperate for.

Smythe nervously glanced at Hook. A mind reader was not needed to tell the older man was troubled by Hook's recent behavior. Hell, Hook was bothered by it too, at least during the few moments of sanity he was afforded. Moments that seemed to happen less and less, Hook running a hand over his face, and realizing he hadn't shaved in quite a while.

"Did you find her?" Hook asked, his tone urgent now.

"It seems we're not the only ones looking." Smythe said at last. He looked as though he was bracing for violence, which wasn't all that unexpected given the way Hook had been acting these last few days.

"Who?" A simple word that was snarled out with all the rage and fury Hook could muster. Wondering, fearing it was the one who had hurt Belle who was also the one now looking for the girl. Fearing that fiend's intentions, and knowing Hook would steal her away no matter the danger, he was hardly relieved when Smythe spit out just who else was on the hunt.

"The Queen." Smythe looked torn, as though he didn't know who he feared worse. Regina or Hook, and such was the evil queen's power, that the mere mention of her name might magically summon her before them.

"The Queen?" Hook scowled. "Whatever for?"

"That I do not know." Smythe offered his apologies. "But the queen has offered a substantial reward for any information that might lead to a finding."

Hook grumbled under his breath, hating that the situation had gotten worse. The Evil Queen was relentless, notorious for getting whatever she wanted. Belle was as good as caught, though Hook was determined to make sure she didn't stay that way. At least not with Regina!

Hook began pacing, Smythe watching him. A decision was being debated in the older man's eyes, before he finally sighed, almost sounded defeated when he did speak again.

"There's more."

Hook didn't stop, pacing about the room like a caged animal. "What now?" He demanded, wondering if something could possibly make the situation any worse.

"Someone claims to have seen your girl leave the city on a wagon." Smythe was careful not to say Belle's name, not after Hook had threatened to split his lip for any future uttering's of it. It had been completely irrational, but then Hook felt that way, irrational, jealous, downright possessive of any and all that had to do with the woman, and that included Belle's name.

"And did they happen to say where that wagon was headed?" Hook demanded.

"A city to the east." Smythe supplied, not quite ready to offer even a glimmer of a smile. "It's a four day journey by wagon...we can be there by ship in less than two if we leave immediately."

"Then gather the men." Hook told him. "We leave within the hour."

"Right captain!" Smythe said, putting his red cap back on his head. He hesitated when he noticed Hook didn't move to follow him out the room. "Captain?"

"She'll be wanting her things." Hook decided. "The desk clerk shouldn't have any problems sparing a boy to pack up and deliver them to the ship."

"Right..." Smythe said, but Hook barely heard him. He was too busy looking around the room, tracing fingers over a dress of hers. Anticipating how she would look in it, and wanting, needing to see it in shambles on her body, Belle thoroughly ravished and disheveled by Hook.

Even with such fantasies giving Hook reason to pause and sweat, he managed to get himself and Belle's belongings to the ship in just an hours' time. His crew was already in place, the ship set to sail at Hook's command. He'd give it almost immediately, visibly eager to get their travels underway.

His crew was happy to set out, glad to leave the town behind them. People of the sea, they grew restless if they remained on land for much longer than a few days. Hook was the same way, preferring the sight of the open seas, and the fresh ocean breeze on his face, to being grounded on land. And yet for all his love of the waters, he felt elation when the town came into view.

Barely waiting for the ship to be secured, Hook disembarked,practically leaping over the side railing to land on the pier's planks. Smythe would follow at a much slower pace, and both men would look around with interest at a town they had never before been to. But they weren't here to sight see, Hook sending Smythe off to do his information gathering. Hook himself would swagger into the local tavern and take up residence at a table. Hoping that perhaps Belle had resumed her nightly routine and had found a new place at this tavern's bar.

It soon was apparent she had not, Hook wondering how many bars this town might have. Wondering if he and Smythe would be doomed to visit all of them, and still find no word of her, when it happened. Smythe ambled in, zeroing in on Hook with an uncanny precision. The man's eyes were wide, his face paler than normal. Hook knew then the news was bad, and he actually braced himself with a drink before Smythe reached his table and did the same.

"She has her." Smythe announced.

The glass shattered in Hook's hand, ale soaking into the cuts the shards had made there. "When?" He asked hoarsely.

"Just last night." Smythe said. "Captain, I am so sorry..."

"It is not over." Hook said, than snapped loudly in insistence. "IT IS NOT!"

"But if the Queen has her..."

"Then we simply take her from the Queen!" Hook told him, and Smythe look horrified.

"Are you mad? You will get us all killed for sure!"

"I NEED her." Hook insisted, his voice plain with his desperate need.

"But why?" Smythe asked. "What could she possibly have? You don't even love her...do you?"

"No. Of course not. But love and need are not always the same thing." Hook explained. "Nor can we always choose just where or who we will find comfort in..."

Smythe continued to wear that horrified, dismayed look, his head shaking no.

"I won't ask you to come along with me." Hook said, then turned pleading. "I'll let you go just after you do me one last favor, and find out just where she is being kept."

Smythe's upset increased further, the man having pulled off his cap to crush it in his hands. "But Captain...I couldn't leave. Not after you've been so good to me."

Hook snorted at that, and Smythe turned insulted. "You have!" He insisted.

"I've treated you like shit on the best days, and you know it."

"And it's still been a sight better than what my situation was before becoming part of your crew!" Smythe sounded earnest enough.

"Then I shudder to think how bad off you were if that really is the case." Hook said, with the barest hint of a smile. "All right, stay with me to the bitter end if you like. Just get me her location!"

"Right captain!" Smythe said, putting his cap back on with a relieved look on his face.

It wouldn't be an easy obtaining, many more days going by. Until it was nearly three weeks that Hook had spent apart from Belle, the hunt for her having served well as a distraction from his grief. Especially when the hunt began to bear fruit, Smythe finding a possible location. The ship would travel there, another week wasted on the trip. Hook's sanity was practically in tatters, the man alternating between anticipation, and wallowing in those grief induced moments when nothing worked to keep him distracted.

But finally he was before the queen's prison tower, the ivory white spire extending high into the sky. Belle was rumored to be at the top of that tower, held under lock and key, and guarded by no less than twenty men. Hook didn't feel the weight of those odds pressing against him, the man downright chipper about his chances. Downright lucid, thinking he could take on the entire world just so long as Belle was the prize, even Hook had to face the facts that he couldn't go it alone. Not in this.

A small number of his crew was selected, his bravest and best fighters. Naturally Smythe was left behind with the ship, the older man more apt to stab himself with a sword than any opponent he might face. Smythe was more than fine with the role Hook assigned him, the older man acting as captain in Hook's absence. Keeping the ship ready to sail at a moment's notice, and expected to leave if a worst case scenario happened.

The worst case scenario could have been anything from death to imprisonment, but for once fortune favored Hook. It was almost ridiculously easy to break into the tower, a bit of powder and explosives blowing the front door right of it's hinges. A bit harder yet was the actual fighting, Hook and his crew of half a dozen fighters facing odds that were three to one. There was more guards than had been anticipated, but with his sweet prize so near, Hook was undeterred, Downright feral as he fought, savage and dealing death to any fool guard who dared cross swords with him.

The fighting took place all along the spiraling stair case of the tower. There were floors with other prisoners, and even a guard's station about half way up the tower. Hook and his crew didn't bother with investigating those, ignoring the excited cries of the other prisoners until one man pointed out the validity of setting them free. Of how the evil queen would find herself busy trying to track down all the escapees, and thus might never realize the target of this prison break was in fact Belle.

Hook leaped on the idea of it, eager to keep the queen confused and guessing. He sent his men to get busy opening the many cells, and continued on his way to the very top of the tower. Somewhere from below came excited cheering, the freed prisoners quick to celebrate their newfound luck. Hook nearly grinned, feeling a similar excitement, and anticipating the celebration he himself would enjoy soon enough.

That almost grin and the head that wore it, was nearly sliced off, one last guard lying in wait for Hook. He just barely got his sword up in time, sparks flying as the metal of his blade ground against Hook's. A twist of his hand, sword turning, Hook shoving back with it. The guardsman minced a step back, Hook slashing diagonally towards his chest. The man just barely leapt back in time, Hook nearly stumbling as his sword sliced through air.

Before he could right himself completely, the guardsman's sword slashed a cut across his back. The leather of his coat split open, the skin beneath only protected by the chain mail underneath his shirt. Hook could only silently thank Smythe for insisting on it, the chain mail having saved Hook from an attack that might have proved deadly.

Whirling, his hook grabbed at the blade, sliding up the length of it as more distraction than defense, Hook twirled his sword than stabbed it forward. The guardsman didn't quite deflect it, the hook twisting, gripping the sword effortlessly. Blood appeared, the guardsman wounded but not yet defeated. Kicking out a leg in a desperate attempt to knock Hook back, only to get stabbed in the thigh.

The pained cry of the guardsman was followed by an angry grunt. The man knew he was defeated, and yet still he did not lay down his surrender. Fearing the Queen more than death itself, the guardsman all but threw himself onto Hook's sword, the blade's tip actually piercing through to the back of him.

The guardsman gagged on his own blood, sword hand going limp, the blade clattering to the floor. Hook held him up just long enough to get the keys off his belt, then let him drop to the floor with a thud.

Shaking the gore off his sword, Hook slid it into the scabbard at his side. Feeling his heart beat quickening even more, Hook fumbling with the keys, knowing now was the moment where he would find out for certain if Smythe's information had been correct. Anticipation filling him, even as he knew there was a chance Belle might not be inside the room, Hook finally on the fifth try, found the right key.

The door did not so much as groan as he swung it open, it's hinges well oiled. The woman not immediately visible, Hook noticed the room was a windowless cell, with little luxury afforded to it. And then he heard a sound to the left of him, a gasp that drew his eyes towards the woman who was scrambling off the cot.

Belle.

Her eyes were wide, and even with her visible shock, the blue was dismayed. Clearly suffering a mix of surprise and a complete lack of wanting to see him, Belle's pretty little mouth was open. One look at her, and weeks of built up lust and desire came overriding what little sense and reason he had left. And that was before he noticed what she was wearing, the form fitting tunic that barely kept her legs covered. Her bare legs, Belle wearing no tights to go with the navy blue prison garb.

Knowing it was woefully inappropriate, the timing all wrong, Hook still advanced on Belle. She tried to take a step back, but her legs bumped against the cot behind her. He didn't quite catch her, actually tumbling down with her onto the small, uncomfortable cot. Kissing her, his mouth hard and possessive, demanding. Ignoring the protesting sounds she made, pressing between her legs so that he could rub his half hard cock against her panties.

Hook felt Belle's body jerk at that intrusive, intimate touch, but she had no where to go. She was trapped between his body and the cot, the woman gasping, protesting with dismayed sounds he was vaguely aware of. His hook besides her on the cot, was digging into the thin, inadequate mattress, Hook knowing this was insane. He should be doing everything but giving in to his urges, especially here in the evil queen's tower.

But Belle's lips were even sweeter than remembered, even as they refused to part willingly for his tongue. It didn't matter, there was other places Hook could kiss, so many spots to choose from if he only could have the proper amount of time.

The hand that hadn't been taken from the crocodile placed it's trembling palm over her heart. One second to think he felt it's beats, and then he was pawing at her, kneading at her breast. Grabbing, kissing all over, hearing her take a sharp breath a moment before Belle screamed.

The sound didn't quite jar him out of his fantasy, Hook still desperate for her. Wanting, needing, demanding, he thought if he only had her for just a moment longer, it might take off the edge of this all consuming hunger. A starving man that had gone too long without a meal, a tiny bite wasn't going to satisfy, Hook kissing Belle once more. Whispering feverishly, lips leaving a wet caress on the skin of her throat, Hook felt Belle shiver at the combined threat promise of his words.

"We will finish this later."

One last resounding smack of his lips, Hook lifting his gaze to meet Belle's frightened one. Only to see her eyes flash at the sight of his tentative smile, the only warning he got before Belle hauled off and slapped him with all her might.

To Be Continued of course...

So...this was delayed a little cause of two, well actually three things. Sleep, doubt, and another idea. I wrote up to 16 kb of this chapter before I gave in to sleep's necessity. But it gave me time to think, and then doubt settled in. Doubt is truly a terrible thing, a nasty habit I indulge in far too often when I'm not actually writing. -_-

Mainly I started worrying that maybe I made Hook too crazy obsessed in this. ^^'' But okay, I think an idea I had has sorta subconsciously affected the way I write Hook in this particular story. The idea being about true love, and how it might work in the enchanted fairy tale realm. It's like in the same vein of many of those paranormal romances. My ideas being there can be more than one true love, that there's several potentials for it, and the body recognizes the person even if the mind does not. So I sorta think that's how I subconsciously ended up writing Hook, that his body recognized Belle as holding the potential to be his happily ever after true love, and hence he went crazy without her. But I worry it's a stupid idea...but like this chapter and the preceding ones anyway! XD

The other thing, the idea thing, that doesn't have to do with what I detail above is...well yesterday I was trying to work on this chapter, but letting doubts paralyze me into slacking off. So I was working on coloring a pic, and I suddenly thought of another idea based on the episode eleven. I actually tried to write it, but the 14 kb chapter I ended up with, while not hating it, I felt it didn't do a satisfying thing for feelings. It was a Belle POV, but I think I'm trashing it, to try a Hook POV for that one. For the first chapter I mean. But first I got back to work on this story, and finally completed the damn chapter! XD Hurrah!

-Michelle

sn-46, I will thanks! Continue I mean! XD It's too much fun (usually) to write these two! And seriously thank you, it's you guys and gals comments that help me to stop being quite so big a worry wart. Not to mention boost my confidence with writing Hook and Belle. :D So I'm so happy to read two did not disappoint. Whoo hoo!

The Biggest Nerd You'll Ever Know, I think I'm a born worrier. But I am trying not to be so hard on myself, not to doubt quite so much. but it's such a bad habit to break. -_- And you read my mind about her smacking him! Hopefully eventually he'll come to his senses. *smacks him too for misbehaving with her*

K-Milah, thanks! I do too. Sometimes I think I have to get out of my system the...um...worse attempt before I can write what ends up being better. It can be frustrating though, to write almost a whole chapter, then realize you need to trash it and try for better. Luckily that didn't happen with chapter three so I'm celebrating! I'm thinking it will be a Belle POV for four. Ha ha ha, Hook's life is gonna be turned upside down even more by her! Or at least, that's how I'm hoping to have it happen! I'm actually picturing in my head, Smythe or one of the other not yet named pirates, advising Hook to go about Belle in a different fashion, and our fave captain grumbling about it being ridiculous, he doesn't have time to properly court any woman. But of course he ends up having to do just that! But I also see the other possibility this set up has given me...Oh dear...*pretends to toss a coin*


	4. Chapter 4

The room that served as her cage, was bland in appearance. Drab gray as far as the eye could see, with little true color to be found. Furniture was sparse, a small wooden table shoved in one corner, a cot instead of a bed for Belle to rest on. There was a privacy screen allowed her, hiding her bath and toilet from sight. Once a day, a servant came, the same nearly blind woman, who didn't so much as look at Belle let alone speak.

The old woman was the only contact with the outside world Belle now had. The only face she saw, the only proof that the world still existed outside this room. A room that was windowless, the recycled air stale and suffocating. A prison that was made to make that which it held, wilt like a flower.

Belle was suffering, perhaps dying a slow death as the Queen's prisoner. Certainly she was losing her mind, Belle having nothing to do but sit or pace, endlessly thinking her thoughts. Wondering how her life could have been reduced to this. Wondering if there had been any way to avoid what had happened to her, or if this unsatisfying fate had ultimately been inevitable.

Belle often thought about the what could have been's. The what if's that had centered around making different choices. Would she have been happier if Belle had stayed in her father's kingdom? Would her life have been more rich and fulfilling if she had married Gaston and had his children? Would she even have a chance for a family of her own, when the Ogres had been on the verge of wiping out her father's entire kingdom? But mostly, Belle wondered about Rumplestiltskin and the choices she AND he had both made.

There were so many what if's surrounding the man. What if she had never gone with him, which had been one that was easy enough to guess an answer to. But the others? Ones like what if she had never fallen in love with him? If she had never kissed him? If she had never allowed herself to believe there was a chance he loved her back? What if he had never forcibly evicted her from his castle, what if her decisions hadn't landed her right in the Queen's trap. So many what ifs, leaving Belle regretting most if not all of them.

Her thoughts weren't exactly charitable at times. Belle was after all, nursing the worst, the first, the only broken heart she had ever had the misfortune to receive. Rumplestiltskin wasn't the ideal man to have developed that bloom of first love for. What he had been satisfied to keep at a distance, had enraged him when faced with the power of true love's kiss up close.

Belle didn't understand it. Why had Rumplestiltskin been so enraged by her love? Why had he flown into a fury, horrified at the kiss, at the chance to break his curse. Why had he valued isolation and power more than a chance at true love? Worst of all, why had Rumplestiltskin treated her so unkindly, his actions hurtful, his words even crueler.

Rumplestiltskin had set out to break Belle's heart, to thoroughly ensure her kiss would never again hold power over him or his curse. And he had all but succeeded, Belle hurting and heartbroken. Not understanding what was so unfavorable about HER, why Rumplestiltskin hadn't valued her affection, why he had been unable to tolerate her kisses.

Belle had had a lot of time to think. Perhaps more than was healthy. She had examined her every interaction with Rumplestiltskin. From those terrifying first days when he had brought her into his home, to the times after, where the love had begun to bloom, Belle having gotten to know him.

Or so she had thought. Belle now knew she didn't really know him at all. She had seen the sides he wanted her to see, hiding his foul deeds and dirty dealings from her. She had been privy to his beast, the side that had first terrified and intimidated her so badly she had trembled before him. Later yet, would come another facet, that of the quiet charmer, who shared many a conversation with her. Conversations which Belle had done most of the talking, waxing poetic about her expectations of love, speaking on the dreams she had for herself.

Rumplestiltskin had smiled and made the appropriate comments, but he hadn't really shared much about himself. Belle now wondered if he had been toying with her, using her as a moment's entertainment. And all the while, never dreaming that Belle's rapidly growing infatuation could one day prove a danger to him.

Belle had been in the full bloom of love, imagining Rumplestiltskin as the dark hero in a fairy tale. Making assumptions about him, building him up to something he was not, only to be overwhelmingly crushed when he proved himself to be more unfeeling monster than loving man.

The day she had excitedly gathered up her nerve to kiss him? It had been exhilarating, those first kisses. Sidling up shyly to him, inching closer until she brushed her lips over his. He hadn't kissed her back, but Belle had assumed it was shock that had held him frozen. Undeterred, Belle had continued, trying to kiss him, harder then. Feeling the tingles in response, the magic working, his curse ready to come undone. And then it had all gone to hell, Rumplestiltskin violently shoving her away.

What followed was an all out tantrum of the most furious kind, Rumplestiltskin mad and raving like a lunatic. Actually pushing her down to the floor, throwing things, looking like he wanted to HIT HER. He never actually did, but she bore bruises all the same from when his hands had gripped her arm, jerking Belle up off the floor. Dragging her through the castle to it's bowels, throwing her into a dungeon, and leaving her there for days on end.

Belle had been in a state of shock, not able to understand why things had gone bad like that. She'd be still frozen in disbelief when Rumplestiltskin finally came to her, telling her awful things. Mean things, hurtful things, cruelly setting out to rip her heart and her love to shreds. Belle's heart already cracked, began to break further, tears pricking at her eyes. And still she stubbornly clung to her ideals, to her belief that her love could save a man who did not want to be saved.

It had taken Rumplestiltskin bodily lifting her up, and throwing her to the ground outside his front door, for Belle to finally shake free of her shock. To finally walk away, even as she had expected him to call out to her. That final shred of hope had been waiting for Rumplestiltskin to realize his mistakes, to realize his love for her.

He hadn't, and her heart cracked further. It wouldn't break apart until later, until Belle had this endless time to think back and examine her time with Rumplestiltskin. But before her imprisonment, there had been that broken state of disbelief, Belle nursing the pain in her heart and unsure of what to do with herself.

The only thing Belle had been clear on then was that she couldn't return to her kingdom. She refused to be known as nothing more than a self sacrificing martyr, a ruined woman who had given up everything to save her father's kingdom. The people there could appreciate her sacrifice, but would not want to associate with a princess who was fallen and stained in their eyes.

There would be no happily ever after in her father's kingdom. Not for Belle. And the way she had felt, nursing her hurt heart, Belle hadn't believed there was a happily ever after in any of the Enchanted Realm's kingdoms. But she had to try, if not to move on, then to at least build some kind of life for herself. So she had drawn on her inheritance, the money her father had set aside for her. It allowed Belle to survive, to wander aimlessly from town to town, until she could finally make some kind of choice over what to do next.

She never figured out that choice, Belle mourning, suffering. Spending most of the evenings inside a tavern, nursing a single drink on the pretense of being near the people who partied there. Belle had thought if she was around happy people, maybe that feeling would rub off onto her.

It hadn't, and not many dared approach her, after noticing the pain in her eyes. She was left alone, isolated from the good feelings inside the tavern. Left to stew in her own misery and suffering, an outsider staring in, desperate to be a part of those happy feelings.

That desperation wasn't only about wanting to be happy. Belle had wanted to be loved. She'd end up settling for less, for feeling something, anything, even if it was just meaningless sex. She hadn't set out to be used, just wanting to feel, wanting to know that someone else could appreciate and want her, find her lovely and worthy of their affection. The pirate had done just that, at least at first. She had followed him into the alley, not because he was handsome, but because he had worn a similar broken hearted pained expression.

His blue gaze had been haunted, his eyes reflecting a heart that had broken so completely she was surprised he hadn't died from the pain of it. Belle hadn't known her own eyes showed a similar pain, which had attracted the pirate to her. And when they had come together in that alley, he HAD wanted her. Had shown her the affection that Rumplestiltskin had denied her. The pirate had kissed and touched her, and it had been soothing enough to make Belle feel a fleeting sense of something.

Any positive feelings or comfort had been dashed, the minute the pirate had so cruelly taken her virginity. It had been a shock of a different kind, a right slap in the face that had awakened Belle to just what she had been doing. And though she had cried out, the pirate hadn't stopped, hadn't even slowed his actions. He had just kept right on using her, thrusting with a near mindless abandonment, taking his own satisfaction and leaving Belle to feel dirty, used.

Horrified, humiliated, hurt, all this and more Belle had felt. Foolish, stupid, Belle had slapped him and run away. Wanting to never see him again, barely able to look at her OWN reflection, Belle had felt sick at what she had let happen. She had made a vow then and there, to never again let that pirate, let any man prey on her weaknesses and vulnerabilities again.

That night, was the very reason she had made a decision to go on the monster hunt. She was no warrior, but she had other skills, and the hunt seemed as good a thing to do as anything else. Besides it would have gotten her out of town, far away from the pirate and the humiliations, the memories of what had happened.

Sometimes Belle wondered if she could have avoided ending up the Queen's hostage, if she had stayed put in that town. If she hadn't gone on that hunt. But the Queen HAD been looking for her, and the men on the hunt had been all too quick to betray Belle to the Queen. Those men were dead now, the Queen not trusting them to not spread talk about the captive she kept. It was why the servant was practically blind, unable to truly see Belle to describe her to any who might whisper about the beauty in the tower.

The Queen kept Belle carefully guarded, out of sight and out of mind of all who might betray her whereabouts. Belle herself could not even scream, the room windowless and sound proofed, so that not even a being as magical as Rumplestiltskin would be able to find her. But Belle didn't entirely understand the point of this. She had no value to Rumplestiltskin, the man simply not caring. Belle knew that one day the Queen would realize that, and then Belle would most likely die on the Queen's orders.

Belle's heart which bore many cracks and tears in it, all but fell apart in that tower. The woman expected to never again be free, to never again see the outside world, to breathe in it's fresh air. She certainly didn't expect to see anyone other than the near blind servant, and perhaps maybe the Queen. She most definitely wasn't expecting the pirate to come swaggering into her room, looking like some dark clad hero out of a less knowledgeable girl's wildest fantasies.

Belle was downright shocked to see him, not to mention aghast. And yes, she could admit that the pirate was the most exciting thing to have happened to her in the weeks she had spent imprisoned. But he was also down right scary, pinning her on the cot, kissing and pawing at her. Speaking words that seemed more threat than promise, assuming he had a right to what he was doing, what he wanted from her.

Fed up and not about to take much more abuse from anyone, even a would be savior, Belle had hauled off and hit him. She had one satisfying moment after her hand connected with his cheek, Belle watching as his face was turned to the side from the blow. She might have even smirked, if she hadn't been so scared.

But just as Belle was frightened, she was also angry. The pirate was the last person she had ever expected to see, and he rivaled Rumplestiltskin in just how much Belle had never wanted to see either man ever again. It was a toss up just who she disliked more in the moment, Belle all but hissing now.

"Get your hand off of me."

It was deliberate, the way he responded by squeezing her breast now. It wasn't quite painful, more intrusive then anything else he had so far done in this room. Belle bit down on her lip, refusing to give so much as a whimper in response to that squeezing.

She also began shoving at his shoulders, trying to bodily push him off of her, when the pirate turned to look at her. If he had been shocked by the slap, he didn't show it now, his own dark blue eyes narrowing. Annoyance was among the emotions in his gaze, but there was something far more sinister as well. Something downright predatory amidst the annoyance and frustration. Something that made him seem like a desperate man with nothing to lose.

"That's not a proper show of gratitude." He finally spoke, and Belle couldn't stop herself from narrowing her eyes in response. "Especially towards someone who has gone through a lot of trouble to find you."

Several tart replies presented themselves to her, Belle unable to stop herself from being snide. "You have a twisted sense of entitlement if you think I owe you anything." Again she pushed at him, the pirate refusing to be budged. "Get off of me!"

If anything he settled more firmly on top of her. "You didn't say please."

Her lips pressed together, Belle stubbornly refusing to try the word out on him. The pirate made a tsking sound, giving her breast yet another squeeze. "Why are you even here?" Belle gasped out, and hated that she had let out such a sound.

The pirate actually paused, looking thoughtful as though he had several answers he could give her. And all the while he kept on squeezing her breast, Belle sure she would be bruised there by his fingers.

"Would you believe I happened to be in the area?"

"Hardly." Belle scoffed, trying to shift beneath him. His breath seemed to catch in his throat, the pirate settling more firmly on top of her.

"Clever girl." He murmured, bending his head to kiss at her neck. "The truth is..." He said in between brushing his lips over her skin. "I came here looking for you."

"For me?" As surprised as she was, Belle was also wary. "Why?"

Another squeeze of her breast, and then his fingers gentled, the motions turning kneading. It felt good after the squeezing, a sensation that Belle did not welcome, the woman trying to shift away from his hand.

"Stop that!" She snapped, and added. "And answer my question." But Belle had a feeling he had already answered, at least in part. The way he kept pawing at her, it didn't bode well for her. But it was simply ridiculous that this man, this stranger, would be so obsessed with her, as to hunt her down for a second romp between her legs.

"I don't know anything." She then said quickly. "I am of no value to you." Belle didn't even think to speak Rumplestiltskin's name, too busy trying to convince the pirate he was wasting time on her. "You and the Queen both waste your time on me."

"You'll find the Queen and I have very different goals where you are concerned."

"And those are?" Prodded Belle, trying to ignore the way he now licked at her skin. She couldn't tell if he was hesitating, not with his mouth and tongue so busy on her throat. "Well?"

"Let's just say...you have something that I need."

"And what could that be?" Belle wondered out loud. She sighed and shoved at him again, certain he wasn't going to give her a real answer. "You know, never mind. I'll say thank you for the rescue, but that's all you're going to get from me."

He seemed to ignore this, his mouth brushing over her pulse point, then latching onto it with a suckling sensation. Belle gasped and tried to jerk back, finding one of his arms had slid around her waist. Holding her against him, Belle turning angrier yet. She'd actually start pounding her fists on his back, trying to beat him off, or at least knock some sense into him.

She'd end up with her wrists gathered by his large hand. The only satisfaction she had in response, was the fact the pirate couldn't both hold her wrists and grope her chest at the same time. His hook simply limited him in his options, though the pirate didn't seem that deterred by this. In fact he was shifting, to better fit himself between her legs. Belle could feel the proof of how aroused he was, and her fright ratcheted back into the forefront of her feelings, the woman inhaling to scream.

Just as she exhaled the first sound of that scream, another man ran into the room. She didn't know him at all, Belle not getting a good look at him right away. She'd actually hear his voice first, the man sounding annoyed.

"Captain! We don't have time for this."

The pirate, this captain, muttered out a curse. He also lifted off of Belle, turning to snarl at the other man. "Tell the others we'll be down soon enough. I just have to..."

"WE?" Belle questioned sharply. "I'm not going ANYWHERE with you."

He looked at her, and for one moment his eyes held surprise. Belle wondered if the pirate really thought it that simple, had really expected her to gladly go off with him to whatever molestations and perversions he had in mind. Belle almost snorted then, stubbornly lifting her chin, and restating her position.

"I am not about to go anywhere with you, or continue this...association for any longer than need be."

Belle actually expected him to make some threats, to swagger and say she'd come with him, or she wouldn't leave at all. Instead, with frustration blooming in his eyes, he stood, Belle quickly going upright with him.

"I'm giving you once choice in this matter." He finally said, gripping her arm. "You can either walk out of here with me of your own volition, or you can be carried out, kicking and screaming the whole way."

"You wouldn't..." Belle breathed out in a hiss. His expression turned hard, steely eyed.

"Try me." He dared.

"You are insane!" Belle exclaimed. "Thinking I would be grateful, that I would go anywhere with you after all that you've done." Her chin lifted stubbornly. "I'd rather stay the Queen's prisoner than go with you!"

Belle barely got the words out, and already she was being lifted, actually thrown over the pirate's shoulder. Her mouth dropped open in shock, Belle speechless as he stalked out of the room. From lower in the tower, she could hear voices, the sounds of people cheering. Belle couldn't guess what was going on, but it galvanized her into action, the woman kicking and screaming just like the pirate had predicted she would.

To Be Continued...

Ah...so still plugging away at my fics, though very, very slowly...but I'm happy with this chapter for the most part. I had 9kb in size draft I trashed...I reread it today, and realized it wasn't very good...but also felt the way I present Belle's thoughts was rather confusing, and jumped around...and maybe even had her thinking in circles. So I'm ultra pleased with the rewrite of that segment, cause I think this attempt came out a million times better! Got a little stuck when it came time to write dialogue...I'm not hating though! Ha ha ha...

Now I'm trying to figure out how to handle next chapter...and which POV to be. One of those things I want to show from both characters thoughts type of situation. But also, I'm trying to think if I should just time skip to them on the ship, and have whoever is the voice of that chapter, briefly think on how they got there...I'll figure it out though! But probably not tonight, as I'm feeling tired now...X_X

-Michelle

Trackrunner237, heh thanks! I like obsessive Hook too even if Belle doesn't. XD But also I think in canon he has to be a little obsessive. I mean I am theorizing he spent quite some time in Neverland, and if he spent say a few hundred years there, and he was still obsessed with getting revenge, and suffering his grief...well doesn't that seem a little obsessive...? But his age and time spent in Neverland is just my theory...nothing confirmed yet on the show...and I am feeling Hook withdrawal from the lack of any time with him in the last two episodes. *pouts*

Redbell69, thank you! You clearly have good taste, to like this pairing. And I like them too! XD But I think everyone guessed that already judging by all the Hook Belle stuff I've written!

Kendra Lueher, that would have been awesome to see them meet like that! XD My friend today, well she said something I thought was cool and true. She said fanfic is what we do to right the wrongs of the canon universe of whatever fandom we are in. Since the show is so far avoiding any further Hook Belle stuff, I just have to right that wrong with my stories! XD

Guest, I'm trying my best! But I can't always promise fast updates...X_X


	5. Chapter 5

Hook hadn't been in the best of moods, when he had thrown Belle over his shoulder. Several strong feelings had been behind such an action, the least of which being impatience. Whether that impatience was stronger for the need to get free of the tower, or for the desire to bed the girl the first chance he got, Hook didn't know. Both seemed equally urgent, the lust he felt for Belle, making him careless, downright foolish. After all Hook knew better. Knew that now wasn't the time to delay for anything, let alone the sex he had waited on for weeks now.

His body didn't seem to care what was right, and what was wrong. That inexplicable lust he felt for the woman, those strong desires and urges, that NEED, was raging out of control. Leaving his blood hot, and his body hard. Every muscle rigid, Hook feeling the strain of holding back.

It didn't help to have her so near. To have Belle draped over his shoulder, Hook feeling her soft breasts against him. To feel her squirming attempts to get free, the girl almost thrashing about, fists pounding on his back. Hook wasn't as annoyed by those hits as Belle would have him be, the man more than used to carrying off struggling females during his long career as a pirate.

It was why his steps didn't falter, why he didn't so much as stumble from Belle's wild movements. And though his steps were a tad more careful than he usually took, Hook didn't come close to falling, or dropping Belle out of exasperation. Not even when she began kicking out her legs, shouting, screaming for help.

"Afraid mine is the only help you'll get here, sweet." Hook told her, his voice carrying easily enough over her shouts. Her legs continued to kick, one nearly catching him in the face. That snapped some of his remaining patience, Hook slapping his hand against Belle's shapely bottom. Her screams turned into an indignant gasp, the woman shocked by what he had just done. By what he continued to now do, Hook unable to stop touching her now that she had given him a reason to.

"Stop that!" Belle snapped, squirming even more. But she didn't try to kick out, perhaps too afraid he'd give her another slap. He would too, though Hook was infinitely more interested in curving his hand over her bottom. In caressing over that short tunic, it's hem having ridden up enough so that her panties were partially revealed.

Nothing like the ones she had worn the night in that alleyway, just thin cotton, it was still enough to make Hook break out into a light sweat. He kept on feeling her up, rubbing his hand over and over that plush bottom. The panties were thin enough, that he could feel the heat from her skin. Practically thin enough to feel like he was touching her directly, Hook almost closed his eyes with a moan.

"You will not get away with this!" Belle was saying. "The Queen..."

"The Queen will have more prisoners to track down than even she can manage." Hook retorted. Indeed he could hear the celebratory cheers of the men and women his pirates had freed. Loud but starting to die off, as the one time prisoners prepared to leave the place of their imprisonment.

"She's deluded enough to make me her top priority." Was Belle's answer.

"And why is that?" Hook questioned, honestly curious. For all Smythe's skills, the man hadn't been able to discover just what the Queen's interest in Belle was about.

"It...it doesn't matter." came the hesitant answer. "It can't be worse than what you intend!"

"You insult me." Hook muttered, and yet he was still caressing her. "I came here for you..."

"And that is suspicious in and of itself!" Belle snapped. "Damn you, put me down!" She sounded almost regal, the way she spoke with such authority. But princess or peasant, Hook took orders from no one, continuing to carry and fondle Belle.

It was clear the woman fumed in response to his ignoring her demands. Hook hid a smirk at that, his steps lighter for his amusement. Less amusing was that she continued to hit him, fists striking repeatedly at his back. But it was an annoyance he was able to endure, Hook more concerned with the feel of Belle's panties, and the fact that the woman wasn't acting at all grateful for his rescue of her.

It was to put it mildly, completely, utterly frustrating. After all he had done, the lengths Hook had gone to, the effort put into planning this rescue? Hook had expected more than a little gratitude. And though he hadn't quite expected Belle to fall on him with open arms, neither had Hook been prepared for the slap, or for quite that much anger.

It burned in a way that was different from the desirous fever within him. Yes, he had throughly botched that night in the alley, had treated her far too shabbily. Yes, Hook had hurt her, had introduced Belle to sex in one of the worst, most careless ways possible. But did she really mean it when Belle had insisted she preferred staying the Queen's prisoner, to leaving with Hook?

It was incomprehensible, Hook not realizing just how badly he had scared Belle with his amorous stunt on the cot. With not just his molestations, but his blatantly voiced intentions, Hook both threatening and promising that they would continue such actions at a more suitable time and place. Intentions he fully intended to see through to their end, Hook wanting her and wanting her NOW. And just as sure as thinking that once Belle was made to understand the situation, and just why she should be grateful to Hook, the woman would get over any protests she might have still had.

He was more than a little delusional, far used to a different kind of woman. To simpering damsels in distress, or cunning shrews that were willing to do anything, everything to survive. Belle wasn't quite either, a woman ready to mold her own destiny with her choices be they good or bad. She wasn't content to sit back and wait, nor did she wish to be dependant on anyone for her future and her safety. Let alone the pirate who had so cruelly, carelessly taken her virginity.

That night was weighing heavy on her mind, Belle unable to NOT think back to the way she had so stupidly given herself to the pirate. She could and had called herself a fool a million times over, regretting immensely what she had allowed to happen. What she was determined wouldn't happen again, regardless of the pirate's wishes, and the fact that he was still belatedly rubbing his hand over her bottom.

Her face red more from just her blush, Belle was angry. As well as scared. She knew at least one thing the pirate wanted from her, though sex was hardly what Belle considered to be the motivating factor of this so called rescue. There was little she knew for certain, but her suspicions had led her down a path. One that said the pirate had somehow learned exactly who she was, what she was, and intended to ransom her for a small fortune.

He'd most likely get that fortune too. Her kingdom might be poor, her people might consider Belle a martyr and tainted by Rumplestiltskin, but her father, their King, LOVED her. He would pay any price, even bankrupt the kingdom further, in order to see his daughter safe. It was infuriating to think she was once again to be someone's pawn, the bargaining chip in which the fate of thousands rested on.

It burned, the mere idea that Belle was once again not in control of her own destiny. That she had to rely on others to decide her ultimate fate. That she hadn't been about to get out of this tower, without someone, be it the pirate's or Rumplestiltskin's interference. In the moment Belle felt cursed by fate, unable to truly affect anything of any importance on her own.

But she wasn't ready to sit back and admit defeat. She wasn't ready to be the puppet guided by someone else's strings. Belle was smart, she was resourceful, and if given enough time and tools, she'd find a way, escaping the pirate and his plans for her and her kingdom.

Until then, she'd bide her time. Admittedly she was uneasy, downright fearful of the pirate's blatant sexual interest. He had already touched her far more than was appropriate, regardless of what had happened that night in the alleyway. His voiced assumptions on what he was expecting, was even worse, as was the fact he was using her precarious perch on his shoulder to fondle her bottom.

In the time it had taken the pirate to carry her down three flights of stairs, Belle had realized the futility of hysterics. Screaming wasn't summoning any help, the guards, her jailors already dead. Whoever was behind the cheering she had heard, wasn't interested in investigating a single woman's screams. And kicking only got the pirate to do a hard spank on the very bottom he was now groping!

Belle gritted her teeth, silently fuming. Eyeing the tower's walls, searching for something, even a torch to gather as a weapon. But the pirate was staying well away from the reach of the walls, far too experienced to allow her such an opportunity. He continued his impertinent touching, and then she felt, his fingers nudging under the band of her panties. That was the cause for Belle to forgot all about the reasons why she shouldn't kick, why it was useless to scream. She went wild, cursing him, calling him all manner of names, as she thrashed about, legs flailing, fists pounding on his back.

She heard his own voice let out an exasperated curse, and then Belle was shifted. She didn't stop her squirming, if anything she fought more even as she was slid down the pirate's body. The instant her feet touched the stairs, Belle tried to spring away. Only to find the pirate grabbing her around the waist, jerking her hard against his front.

His eyes which had been dark with annoyance, took on a different light to them. A downright hungry gleam, the pirate staring at her, pressing Belle all the more firmly against his body. Her voice took on a strangled note, Belle becoming aware of more than just the powerful build of his body. He was AROUSED, a fact that made her stomach curl in fear and distaste.

Hook saw the way she reacted, felt the way her body stiffened in displeasure. But he couldn't stop a damn thing, let alone his own reactions to her nearness. Having her pressed this close was worse than when she had been on his shoulder, her sizeable breasts quivering with every breath against him. At least she had stopped her downright spastic flailings, Hook having almost dropped her by accident. That could have been disastrous, this close to the edge of the spiral staircase, with the long drop in which one could plummet to their death.

As scary as the thought of dropping her had been, Hook couldn't fight the lust coursing through him now. The lust that made demands of them both, Hook staring down at Belle's face. At her lips, which had been the fuel of a number of erotic fantasies, Hook remembering the inexperienced but eager way Belle had kissed him that night.

He nearly groaned then, but somehow stifled that sound from coming out. Belle guessed his intent from the look in his eyes, the way he leaned in, the woman starting to say something. It was lost when his mouth covered hers, Hook's fingers digging into her hip, his other arm locked around her in unyielding possession.

It wasn't a complete relief to be kissing her now. Hook's urges were too strong for that, wanting, needing to be inside her. To sink himself fully into the treasured spot between her legs, to bring them both panting and delirious, every thrust burying him deeper. That need translated into the hard urgency in which he kissed Belle, Hook fighting the impulse to pin her against the nearest surface and take what he wanted.

The dozens of reasons why he shouldn't be doing this right this second, were fleeing his mind. His focus was going, Hook more enamored with the sweet softness of Belle's lips. Of the heat that surged through him at the pressing together of their mouths. Of the feel of her light attempts to squirm free, her breasts rubbing over his chest. If he could, if he had the time and luxury, Hook would have devoured her whole. As it were, he kept telling himself just a few seconds more, prolonging the kiss, savoring it and her.

Belle for her part was in shock, dismayed, with her fear ratcheting up a notch. As distasteful as it was to have the pirate kissing her, it was even worse for the fact she had almost responded. The memories of the kisses shared in the alleyway had risen up, Belle recalling how she had very much enjoyed that part of her encounter with the pirate. He had made her feel desirable, wanted, had awakened her to just how wonderful a kiss could be.

But the memory of the pain and shame that had followed, the way the pirate had used her for his own selfish needs, also rose up, making her eyes water. The tears reminded her that he was not anything like the men she should associate with, that he was a cad and a villain. That he didn't give a damn about her, and was willing to do anything, even hurt her again, for his own lusts and desires.

Belle's next impulse was to bite down on his lip, but thankfully a cooler head prevailed. She began thinking past her humiliations, her fears, to actually start to scheme. To notice things besides the kiss, and the fact the pirate was hard against her. She became aware of the fact he had things strapped to his side, a scabbard for his sword, and a smaller sheathe that was the size of about a dagger.

With a look that would have been described as devious had the pirate not been so consumed by the kiss, Belle let herself soften. She stopped fighting, letting the pirate part her lips. His kiss in no way lessened in eagerness, but it became something more. Less demanding, less punishing, turning almost gentle. Coaxing, Belle fighting not the response she gave him, but the way her body so love starved, wanted to soften in acceptance of what the pirate gave her.

Hook didn't know what to make of the fact Belle was kissing him back, save to savor the sweet response, the elation he felt at this unexpected victory. She tasted good, all honey and sweetness, her skin a creamy scent that brought to mind all the times Hook had spent pleasuring himself to the scent of it on her bed sheets.

He didn't know what it was about Belle, what made him experience a lust like he had never felt before. A lust that was so consuming, it pushed thoughts and grief out of his mind, made him forget for a time his pain. It, she, made him wild, made him crazed, Hook feeling the roar of masculine satisfaction when Belle went from pushing at him, to wrapping her arms around his waist.

Her delicate hands caressed over his sides, Hook thinking nothing strange of that. If anything he felt triumphant, assuming she had finally come around, that she had finally realized her position, and just who she should be grateful to and how.

Hook's mood improved immensely, he didn't know the feelings going through Belle's head. How her heart hammed in fear and nerves, how her flesh goose pimpled, her hands practically shaking as she caressed him. She didn't go immediately for the dagger, continuing to kiss him, to let him think she was submitting. Her heart seemed to stop when her fingers closde around the hilt of the dagger, the pirate having let out a very feral sounding growl.

Belle nearly collapsed in relief when the realization came that the growl had nothing to do with her attempted theft. The pirate was merely being vocal in his pleasure, feral in his need. Belle drew the dagger ever so slowly from him, keeping her other hand on him, caressing instead of shoving him away like she wanted.

Pocketing the dagger in her tunic, Belle wasn't prepared to use it just yet. Not until she was free and far from this tower. Not until she had money and a means to travel, Belle wondering what else she could take from the pirate.

Belle let the kiss continue, knowing too break off too soon would rouse the pirate's suspicions. But the press of him against her, the feel of his erection big, bold, threathening, was more than she could take. With a gasp, Belle managed to break the kiss, wanting to slap him, and settling for turning her face to the side.

He'd actually linger a kiss on her cheek before speaking her name in a questioning tone.

"Belle?"

It was then a startled realization worked it's way to the forefront of her brain. He knew her name, but she didn't even know who he was, a fact that put her at a slight disadvantage. Not that Belle thought it mattered what his name was, not when she didn't intend for him to be more than a road bump on her bid for freedom.

"Just who are you?" She demanded out loud. He reacted with surprise, and then a sheepish blink of his eyes. He didn't let go of her, practically breathing in her ear.

"Forgive me for my lax in manners." Belle nearly snorted at that, knowing he had none. But it was distracting the way the pirate's lips seemed to caress the curve of her ear, Belle shivering from more than cold or fear. "My name is Hook. I am captain of the Jolly Roget pirates."

If he expected her to be impressed by any of this, she was not, Belle quirking an eyebrow in derision. Hook, how quaint, how fitting a nickname. "Well, captain." She spoke out loud, voice seething in sarcastic politeness. "You'll forgive me this moment of insanity, for it won't be happening again."

If she had expected her announcement to be cutting in it's rejection, Belle was sorely disappointed. Hook just smirked and murmured in her ear, right before he tongued at it, "We'll be seeing about that, won't we, sweet."

Of all the arrogant, over confidant, pompous men she had known, and that was saying something considering Belle had been engaged to Gaston, Hook was in a category of his own. It practically rendered her speechless, Belle attempting to wrench herself free of his arms. She was made aware of how helpless she was in comparison to his strength, Hook holding onto her, until she stopped fighting.

Grateful he hadn't tried to kiss her again, Belle could only stew silently when Hook slowly, cautiously let her step free. But then he took hold of her arm, his grip ready to turn bruising at the slightest resistance. Belle trailed behind him, glaring daggers into his back, hating how amused Hook was, and how he had smirked about the likelihood of another kiss happening.

Determined for the kiss to not be repeated, Belle was sure she would do what was needed to protect herself and what was left of her virtue.

To Be Continued...

First I want to say bronchitis SUCKS. I finished chapter four just as I was getting sick. Erg, two weeks wasted cause of it.

Second, this is my second and much better attempt at the chapter. I'm not hating on the writing of the first attempt, but the thing it was lacking was the sexual tension I wanted. not sure if I still got sexual tension in this attempt, but I like it much better. Other attempt ended up nearly as long as this one, and would have been longer cause I still hadn't been able to get Belle off his shoulder! *face palm.* But I hope to be able to cannibalize some of the thoughts written in the other attempt, to use in a future scene.

Third, I kept suffering a lot of doubts for this story. Keep worrying it's too dumb or weird, too out there. To the point I let the doubt cripple me. *face palm.*

I forgot to mention this last chapter. Before this story, I had an idea about Hook taking Belle from the Queen. I even had that I wanted the opening lines to be about Hook being the most exciting thing to have happened during Belle's imprisonment. But then this story happened, and I think the two ideas might be too similar...but I did get to use that line in chapter four, albeit modified a bit! So I'm happy about that.

I'm also proud I didn't start the new Hook Belle ideas in my brain. But that wasn't done on my own merits, but more I was too sick to write anything. We'll see how long I can resist the new ideas as I desperately play catch up on the current work in progress ones!

Laters!

Michelle

Sn-46, thank you! I'm really glad to hear that. it was a bit of a struggle making the thoughts she had about her failed relationship with Rumplestiltskin, with making it and other thoughts to come out right, to have them make sense. That first draft was all over the place, so I was real pleased with what became the final result!

I did per your request, attempt a double POV. Something I haven't really done for this series, though I have with some of my other fics. Double POVS can be tricky, at least for me. X_X But I like how it happened in this chapter.

And I really like your idea of how Hook should make Belle feel. That he should make her feel she's good, stunning, loved, etc. I'm so aiming for that to happen, sooner or later...*dies cause it will probably take just a bit to get there.* Really I'm worrying that I'll never get to my bathtub scene, and the Hook gets indignant when the crew tells him he should court Belle properly scenes. XD But I'm trying my best to get to them all, including the makes her feel loved idea!

K-Milah, hello, hello and thank you! I've been missing on working on my Hook Belle fics. Everything came to such a grinding halt cause of getting sick. (And I know who I caught it from too...!) But I'm glad to be able to finally update something in my Once fics. now if I could make good progress on future chapters for this story, and all the rest!

I'm kinda curious too...cause even though I have plans, sometimes it takes unexpected twists and turns before I can get to the things I had envisioned for a story. Actually it happens all the time, leaving me to scramble to get to the stuff I planned. But I usually manage. Eager for him and her to get on the ship! Not so eager to come up with names for some of the other pirates. (Some of which are women. I have this scene in my head that the female pirates dress Belle up like them, and it sorta annoys but turns Hook on to see Belle like that! XD)


	6. Chapter 6

The Queen's prison tower was not a place easily found, even for one of such skill as Mr. Smythe. Located deep in mountain country, it was miles away from any town, from any known mark of civilization. Horses were needed to get to and from the tower, the sea little more than a day's journey away.

It was a trifle unsettling, to be this far on land. To be away from his ship, and the protection of it's cannons. His men were uneasy, far too aware of how easily they could get trapped on this inhospitable land. That unease was a palpable thing, unnerving the horses they rode on, some of the beasts balking, just barely brought under control.

The other horses seemed to thrive on the tension in the air, the creatures running faster. Hook was content to let the big, bulky stallion he rode upon have it's way, so long as the horse continued it's run towards the sea and not away from it.

His men were somewhere behind him, some struggling with their rides, while others kept a careful grip on their muskets. There had yet to be any pursuit, but all were cautious. The Queen could strike at any time, could appear behind or before them in an instant, with an army to back her up. That she didn't was pure chance, the Queen simply not knowing what had gone on at her tower. It was Hook's hope that once she discovered ALL her prisoners had been set free, she would not know where to begin looking, let alone come after Belle.

Hook still had not a clue as to why the Queen had taken Belle prisoner. Nor had he made much of an attempt to question the girl on that matter. Belle wasn't exactly being forthcoming with the details, save to insist that he, AND the Queen were wrong about her, about her value.

Hook didn't yet know what the Queen was about where Belle was concerned, but he knew the beauty was wrong when she insisted she had no value. Belle was practically everything to Hook. He needed her in ways he himself did not fully understand. In that brief time together, Belle had become essential to Hook, for his sanity, his peace of mind. Alternatively, while his grief had become manageable, Hook wasn't exactly stable in mind. An obsessive type, for he had to be, given he had spent hundreds of years holding onto his pain and his need for revenge, Hook still didn't understand how he could have fallen so fast. How he could have become so consumed, so obsessed, so needful of one particular woman, in just a span of a few minutes time.

Sometimes Hook was sure he had gone crazy when Rumplestiltskin had killed Mila. Or maybe it had taken a few hundred years, time after time spent on grieving, on hate. Whatever might have made him that way, Hook had become fixated on Belle, only acting crazier because of her. And it was crazy, to launch an attack on the private prison stronghold of the Queen. Hook and his pirates had only been back in the Enchanted Realm for about a year's time, but it had been enough to learn of the Queen's own power and misdeeds.

And yet, looking at the woman who lay within the safety of his arms, her body nestled against him, her cheek pressed to his chest, Hook knew he would risk it all over again for Belle. Even as it rankled that she did not seem to understand nor appreciate the trouble he and his men had been through, the danger they had undertaken in coming to liberate her from the tower.

Hook kept telling himself that soon, soon Belle would come to understand. That she would not only be grateful, she would be appreciative. Hook had to believe that, for else he didn't know WHAT he would do. Or what he feared might end up happening. The lust and his remembered fantasies, not all of them nice, came to mind, but the unease he felt over them now, was sated somewhat by the protective feelings he was experiencing with Belle sleeping against him.

It was different from when she had been awake. When she had been sullen and tense, sitting rigid in the saddle, doing her best to not relax against him. She had barely talked, preferring to endure the ride in silence. A silence she eventually got, once Hook realized the woman wasn't about to be goaded even by his more lewd comments and teasing.

Hook had practically fallen off the horse, when Belle had fallen asleep, cuddling up against him as best she could. He instantly knew that this was an action she wouldn't have consciously done. Not at the moment, when all she felt was mistrust, and anger. But regardless of why it had happened, Hook was relishing the moment, enjoying the softness of her relaxed body.

Perhaps enjoying it too much, considering how hard he felt. Blood surging to his groin, Hook did his best to ignore the unpleasant feel of an erection that had been maintained for too long. It was this side of pain, and yet Hook wouldn't have given up this moment for anything. Of course his erection wasn't helped by the fact Hook kept nuzzling his cheek against Belle's hair, not at all bothering to hide what he was doing from his men.

His men didn't have much to say about what Hook was doing, at least not to his face. And they were making the attempt to avoid looking Belle's way, given how possessive Hook was being over her. A possession that had triggered in the tower, when Hook had come dragging Belle down with him. His pirates, greatly curious about the woman that had driven their captain to distraction, hadn't been able to help but look her over. Hook in that instant, had felt the irrational, insane urge to attack, barely controlling himself.

He had actually growled, and stepped in front of Belle to hide her from sight of his men's curious eyes. And then Hook had shrugged out of his long, leather coat, insisting the girl put it on over that too short and leg baring tunic of hers. A tunic that wasn't made of heavy enough material to protect against the night's cold. Belle had to be freezing, even wrapped up in his coat.

It was yet another reason to push the horses harder. To make them run to the point of collapse, forcing them to cut a few hours off their travels. Even as the horses grew exhausted, the night sky starting to break with pinks and purple hues of the barely risen sun, Hook could make out the mast of the ship with the sails unfurled. Smythe and the Jolly Roger pirates had kept the ship anchored, but ready to fly like the wind at a moment's notice.

Hook didn't allow himself to get excited just yet. Even with the faint smell of the sea in his nose, he knew they weren't safe yet. They wouldn't be until they were aboard the ship, and had set sail into deeper waters. He clicked his tongue, and used his knees to guide the horse in the direction he needed, Hook estimating they would reach the ship just as the sun crested high enough to chase away the remnants of night.

From behind him came the cry of one of his pirates, but it wasn't one of panic. The man had spotted the ship as well, and was expressing his relief that they had nearly made it. Similar sounds came from his other pirates, the noise enough to rouse Belle. She shifted against him, but did not immediately try to spring away. Belle simply wasn't aware enough to realize just who she lay against, and why, and Hook felt jealous to think she might be dreaming he was the man who had broken her heart in the first place.

Hook wasn't that curious about that man. He thought him an immense fool, stupid for wasting his chance with a woman like Belle. He didn't understand how anyone could NOT have treasured Belle as the gift she was, yet Hook could also recognize how extremely lucky he was for that man's stupidity. After all, that man's mistake was Hook's salvation, and the pirate captain meant to not only claim but keep Belle with him.

Once it would have astounded Hook, the idea of him wanting to keep ANY woman after the loss he had suffered with Mila. But he felt different now, having lost what was left of good sense. Of what was right, and what was wrong, Hook practically forgetting he had no future, wasn't intending to live once he found and got his revenge on the crocodile.

And then his private thoughts scattered, Belle having jolted awake with a gasp. Hook was ready for her, tightening his arms around her. Not to hurt so much as to prevent her from falling off the horse, the girl practically violent in her attempts to lunge backwards.

"Careful, sweet." Hook murmured to her, giving her one of his more amused smiles. But his heart beat just a bit faster, and he wondered why. Was it the frantic look she gave him and their surroundings, as though Belle was considering making a break for it, even with the fact she was on top of a horse moving fast enough that the fall would most likely kill her? Or was it something else, something that had nothing to do with the danger she might pose to herself?

Belle placed her hands on his forearms, gripping him almost as tight as he was her. "How...how much farther?"

"Not much farther at all." Hook told her, nodding at something over her shoulder. Still gripping his arms, she shifted carefully, turning and getting her first sight of his ship. Hook sat a little taller in the saddle, proud of the beauty that was his ship, knowing it was an awe inspiring and majestic sight, with it's wood carved from enchanted trees.

"So that's it then..." Belle murmured, almost too soft for him to hear. "That's how you'll make your escape..."

"How WE'LL make our escape." He corrected her. She stared a bit longer at the ship, before turning back towards Hook. Her expression nearly unreadable, Belle had more questions.

"And then what? Where will you-we go from here?"

"Does it matter?" Hook asked, and she nodded. "We won't make for land at first. We'll lay low on the open sea. Perhaps a few weeks at most, but it might just be enough time for the Queen to forget about you."

"She won't." Belle said, practically sighing. "Not so long as she continues to be misguided about what she thinks holding me will get her."

Hook seized the opening she had given him. "And that is?"

"It doesn't matter. She's wrong." Her expression remained flat, unreadable. "She'd have killed me when she realized it too."

"If that's true, then you owe me for more than the rescue." Hook spoke musingly. It was the wrong thing to say, the wrong thing to so much as imply, judging by the fierce look she glared his way.

"I'd hardly call this a rescue." Her tone was dry. "Not when you've abducted me for your own ends."

"Would you really have preferred to stay in the tower?" Hook asked, honestly curious not to mention frustrated by her.

"No, but..."

"But?" He prodded.

"I'd rather not be dependant on anyone...least of all you."

Hook frowned. "I know I didn't handle that night as best as I could." He said to her. Emotion flared visible in her eyes, anger and hurt. Hook almost felt guilty to see it. "But don't you think you are overreacting to what happened?"

Stony silence was all he got from her, the woman glaring. "You approached me." A frustrated Hook reminded her.

"A mistake I will never get over!" Belle snapped, and the hostility of her tone was almost enough to make Hook flinch. He was also mildly insulted, truly thinking she was overreacting a tad too much for what had happened.

"You told me not to stop." Hook said lowly.

"And look what it got me!"

"I didn't realize you were a virgin until it was too late." Hook told her.

"Not that it mattered to you, once you knew." Belle grumbled, still maintaining her fierce glare. Hook could only grimace, privately agreeing with her. It hadn't mattered, Hook hadn't cared about anything but his own pleasure and satisfaction, not even trying to slow and gentle his actions to cause the girl minimal hurt.

"I'm..." He swallowed, the words hard to get out. Hook wasn't a man used to apologizing, least of all about sex. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking..."

"We BOTH weren't." Her look was sour then. "Regardless, that time in the alleyway should have never happened."

Hook remained silent in response to that. Because he knew, KNEW, she was right. It shouldn't have happened. Belle's life might have been better off without Hook in it. And though he had saved her from the Queen, an evil that would have been searching for the girl regardless of Hook's involvement, Hook also knew he could offer her nothing. Nothing that was real, nothing that was permanent. If he had been a better man, a man that wasn't consumed with taking what he wanted, a man that wasn't driven by baser impulses, Hook would have set Belle free once they got away from these mountains.

But he wasn't, and he wouldn't. He'd keep Belle with him right to the bitter end, knowing he couldn't offer her happiness, couldn't offer her a future together. It was purely selfish of him, Hook basically intending to use Belle as a coping mechanism and an outlet. And that knowledge of what he intended? It showed in his eyes, Belle staring at him frozen for one moment, before she turned away with her own gaze unsettled.

Wondering what she was thinking, what Belle must be assuming about his intentions, Hook still couldn't muster up the nerve to ask her outright. They'd ride the rest of the way to the sea and his ship in silence, and then a welcoming cry would be heard. They had been spotted, the ship's lookout letting out such a loud exclamation that it alerted the other pirates to Hook's arrival.

The men with him were calling back, already letting the pirates aboard the ship know of their success. By the time Hook pulled up to shore, the plank walkway had been lowered, several pirates rushing down to take hold of the horses.

Hook slid off the back of the stallion almost before it had come to a full stop. Belle was reluctant, but allowed him to help her down, nearly falling against him before she got steady on her legs. He could hear the hush come over the crowd, curious pirates leaning against the ship's railing in order to catch sight of the woman who had driven their captain to take such risks.

Belle actually seemed to shift closer to him, as though nervous of the attention she was getting. She didn't quite touch him, but she seemed to think him less a threat than the men and women looking at her now.

"It's all right." Hook said softly. "They're just curious." He started to draw her towards the plank walkway, when the excited whinny of a horse was heard. Belle whipped around, a question voiced.

"What are they doing with those horses?"

"Setting them free." Hook hastened to explain. "We don't want the Queen to track them to the stable we borrowed them from."

"By borrow, do you mean steal?"

"I might." Was Hook's half answer. "The Queen is not known for her mercy. If she thinks the stable willingly helped us, she'd slaughter everyone tied to it, regardless of the fact they would not have known what we had intended to do." She looked surprised then, and Hook hid a smile. "I'm not heartless. I wouldn't involve innocents in this...unless I had too."

His words didn't endear him to her, Belle frowning. Hook couldn't claim to understand her response, not knowing what was on her mind. He couldn't know she was thinking of her kingdom, of her father and her people and what Belle had assumed was Hook's intentions towards them all.

Seeing she wasn't going to speak, Hook began urging her to walk up the plank with him. There was a slight tug of resistance from Belle, but ultimately she followed, the eyes of the pirates on them all.

Once onboard, Hook could tell his crew was brimming with questions. And for some, like the women, they were oozing with curiosity about Belle herself. He could guess what they were thinking, what they were wondering about. What was so special about this girl, that she had driven the captain a little more insane, making him obsessed with the acquiring of her.

"Get ready to sale!" Hook shouted. His words were both an order and a reminder that they couldn't linger here any longer than necessary. It jolted the crew into action, most running to their designated duties, ready to help the ship leave even faster.

It took nearly ten men to lift the heavy anchor, their muscles straining, voices groaning as they hauled on the heavy chain. The sails already filled out with wind, quickly had the boat moving, Hook's second in command manning the wheel, using it to guide the ship past the rocky outcroppings that littered close to shore.

Hook didn't linger to watch their leaving, already dragging Belle to his private cabin. As captain of these pirates, one of the privileges Hook enjoyed was having a room to himself. A large, nearly spacious room, filled with various luxuries and wealth. That was anything from chests of gold and jewels, to fine tapestries, and trinkets.

Belle nearly jumped, when the door slammed shut behind her, hardly put at ease by Hook's smile and nearness. Her expression had turned frantic again, her eyes darting about as though looking for an escape. Hook had yet to realize the woman was rather scared of him, believing instead she was merely angry over what had happened between them. But he wasn't sure how to smooth things over with her, and right now, alone in his room with her, Hook couldn't think straight. Couldn't think past the fact he needed to kiss her, and had been hard for the better part of their escape together.

"Belle, sweet..." He spoke in a husky tone, already moving to catch her around the waist. She immediately put a hand on his chest, clearly intending to hold him at bay. But that touch only goaded him onwards, Hook bending to kiss her. At the same time, his hand moved, fingers nimble as they worked open the coat, then eased it off her. Belle didn't fight it's removal, but neither did she assist.

Neither did she fight the kiss, letting Hook have complete possession of her mouth. He groaned, agony and ecstasy mixing. And then he lost control, touching her all over, his hand groping, pulling at her tunic so that it rode higher on her thighs. His hook caught at the back of her tunic's collar, ready to rip it down and open.

The fabric began to tear with a loud sound, Hook ready to gather Belle up and carry her to the bed when he felt it. Felt the sharp point of a weapon against his belly, the hand that held it shaking badly. Startled, he broke the kiss, and saw the look of determination in Belle's eyes. The weapon continued to press, the girl making her threat known. It was unexpected, it was surprising, it was absurd. Hook didn't know what was stronger, his urge to laugh, or his shock. But ultimately laughter won out, Hook realizing his kitten had claws.

To Be Continued...

I really like how this one came out. Didn't have to do any rewriting either! Hooray! Just a little uncertain about the ending lines...debating...next chapter will either be an all Hook POV, or maybe a double POV that ultimately becomes a Belle POV. We'll see how the writing goes.

-Michelle

Trackrunner 237, aw man...I had such expectations to write a lot of chapters for several of my Once stories during the time the show was in repeats. Sadly that didn't happen cause of the damn bronchitis. But I was glad to get at least one chapter finished. And now a second one, whoo hoo! (And hopefully at least start a third today.) Glad to hear you like this story so much. I like all the ones I've been writing, but I am a bit biased towards Restraint. It's probably my current fave too! XD Thank you again, I'm glad you like how I'm handling the characters in this. Heh...I like that she's gonna make him work for her affections too! XD


	7. Chapter 7

There had been a moment, that rush of exhilaration, when Belle had pressed her stolen dagger against the pirate's belly. One single moment, where her anger and outrage overcame her own fear and uncertainties. A single split instant where Belle thought she'd do whatever she had to, to come away safe and unmolested, even if it meant sinking that dagger in, to wound, to kill if need be.

That was before the unexpected happened, before Belle even considered the likelihood of her chances against a whole crew of merciless pirates. That was when Captain Hook's shock, a fleeting, temporary thing at best, gave way to unrestrained laughter, leaving Belle to realize the pirate did not at all take seriously her threat.

Her cheeks actually flushed with color, embarrassed warmth filling Belle. There was no way to hide her reaction to his laughter, to the amusement he shook with. Not with her cheeks red, her own expression indignant. Worst yet, her hand was trembling, the dagger unsteady against him.

Belle nearly jumped in place, when Hook's hand clamped around her wrist. She hadn't expected him to move that fast, nor did she understand he was doing it to steady her shaking hand. Steadying it because Hook had realized her trembling might very well cause her to stab into him, but by sheer accident. And for all his amusement, that was simply something that would not do.

"Oh sweet..." Hook breathed out, his voice practically a husky purr. "You've got to be more serious then that."

She looked confused, Hook smiling none too pleasantly at her. "You've got to be swift, and you've got to be certain, when intending to kill a man."

"I..."

"There's no room for doubt." Hook continued over her. "You have to be sure of what you want. No hesitating when the strike is there. Otherwise you'll be overpowered, disarmed, or worse."

From the look on Belle's face, Hook thought he could guess what she considered to be the worst. But he knew she had no idea of how bad things could become, how bad things would have been if she had tried to bluff her way with drawn dagger on anyone else besides Hook.

She hadn't released her hold on the dagger, even as Hook gripped her wrist. He could feel her shaking, could guess at the effort she was exerting to hide just how badly. Her eyes were expressive, like a raging storm of emotion. Belle was upset, angry to have been caught, stopped, even angered by his laughter.

"Let go of my hand." Belle said out loud, in a steely tone of voice. "And we'll see how little I hesitate this time!"

"Ah sweet, I see your time as the Queen's prisoner did little to douse out your spirit." Hook all but grinned at Belle. "But before you be gutting me...answer me this. Just how do you plan to fight your way past all my crew? Pirates who are blood thirsty and sex hungry on the best of days, who will be wanting to avenge my untimely death?"

Her face actually took on an ashen look, Belle blanching at the question. Hook almost felt sorry for her then, before remembering he was just as ruthless as any man or woman out on the ship's deck.

"Of course..." He said musingly. "I suppose you could always fit through one of the portholes. You're small and slim enough. But providing you even know how to swim, there's all kind of nasties that lurk in the waters. Just waiting to take bite out of a delectable piece like yourself."

If possible, her color actually worsened in response to what Hook was saying. Her arm's shaking grew worse, to the point Hook wanted to gather her close to him in a show of comfort. Instead he squashed such impulses, offering one more unappealing option.

"And then there's always the Queen. As you have been so quick to point out, she'll be looking for you."

"She'll be looking for me regardless." Belle spoke in a whisper, looking that much closer to being defeated.

"I can make sure she doesn't find you." Hook said casually. Her eyes flashed with that, her spirit nowhere near broken despite her bluff being called.

"For a price no doubt."

"Just wanting my reward." Hook answered.

"Your reward?!" Belle exclaimed, downright scandalized. "Even if I thought you deserved one, you expect too much from me!"

"You gave yourself to me once." Hook reminded her. "Willingly, freely..."

"And I have been regretting it ever since!" Belle snapped, with a shake of her head. She didn't seem to notice the way he frowned in response to her heated words, Belle simply that distressed. Hook was really cursing himself for bungling things with her, even as he wondered how in the world he was going to convince her to bed him without a use of force. Especially when pointing out that she owed him, simply wasn't working as a convincing argument.

Finally his own curiosity got the better of him, Hook managing a soft, almost hurt tone. "Was it really THAT bad for you?"

Belle gave him a disbelieving look, as though shocked he would ask her that. "You have to ask? Yes, you brute, yes!"

Again he frowned. Hook remembered Belle had been able to walk, to practically run from him then. But now he wondered at how bad she had to have been hurting, if sheer desperation had led her to flee the alley, regardless of any pain she might have been experiencing.

"I'm..." A hesitation, for it wasn't easy for him to apologize even it was deserved. "Sorry."

Belle seemed to stiffen in response, but though she did not accept the apology, neither did she outright reject it. Hook couldn't leave it at that, his voice taken on a cajoling element to it, as he gave her his most seductive look.

"Let me make it up to you." He said, watching her brow draw up in surprise. But her eyes were suspicious, the girl right to be wary. For the very next thing he said, almost as though Hook couldn't help himself, was a proposition. "Let me show you how much better sex between us CAN be."

Her lips parted in shock, Belle seeming speechless in response. And then her gaze narrowed, not quite a glare, as she found her voice. "You, captain..." She hissed in frosty tones. "Are outrageously misguided if you think that is in any way an apology a LADY like myself can or would be willing to accept. I don't know what kind of woman you are used too, but you will find I am a different class all together."

Now that Hook didn't doubt. Belle was different, not too mention proving far more difficult to coax into bed with him. Ordinarily he might be up for the challenge, but not now. Not when Hook had waited so long, fantasized for what seemed like forever, and lusted even longer. It meant he was short on temper, and even shorter on patience, squeezing down on her delicate wrist, until the woman let out a pained cry, the dagger falling to the floor with a muffled clatter.

Her free hand began to beat at his chest, Belle having realized Hook was through with talking. And though he had physically just disarmed her, Belle had realized the dozen of reasons why she wouldn't have been able to go through with actually killing the man. Never mind there was no real escape for her, the simple fact of the matter was, Belle wasn't the type of person to kill another. And until she was ready and willing to do just that, any weapon she pulled on him, on anyone, would only be as good as her bluff. A bluff Hook had seen through from the start.

"Unhand me!" Belle demanded. The demand lacked authority to it, her voice high with fear. She was battling her own reactions, her own fright over what was happening, what she thought was about to happen in just a few short moments. Most of all she was scared of the pirate, of the dark, hungry look he was giving her, of his masculinity, and of his intents. It was disturbing, that single minded focus he had, a focus that was fixated unwaveringly on her. Even as Belle knew of the dirty reputation that pirates had where women and thieving was concerned, a part of her, sliver small that it was, was aware that what was going on with Hook was above and beyond the normal way of things.

She couldn't claim to understand it, and at this moment, Belle didn't have the freedom to try. Blatantly wishing she still had the dagger in hand, wanting the illusion of control it had given her, Belle fought as the pirate bodily lifted her into his arms. Hook didn't go so far as to throw her over the shoulder, carrying her instead close to his chest.

Hook reached the bed in a few quick steps, and deposited Belle onto it's soft mattress. Before she could even think to scramble away, he joined her in the bed, his one arm staying around her waist. Belle was aware of saying things, making demands that went ignored. The pirate was simply too determined, too focused on his own needs and demands, to pay attention to hers.

Situation unreal, Belle quickly closed her eyes to shut out the way the pirate looked at her. But her other senses were ready, picking up the slack left from her sight. She could smell him better than ever, a clean scent, with a hint of masculine arousal that seemed to grow stronger. Worse yet was touch, his face nuzzling the crook of her shoulder, so that she felt his soft lips kissing there, along with the raspier sensation of his beard hairs against her skin.

Belle nearly jumped out of her skin when the pirate moaned into her shoulder, the sound so blatantly sexual. His arm with the hook was still around her waist, leaving his hand free to touch her. And touch her he did, skimming fingers from her collar to down between her breasts. Belle was sure if the pirate was to shift his hand just right, he'd feel the frightened, wild beating of her heart.

It only grew worse, Hook touching her legs now. It was a full handed caress, palm and fingers called into play as that hand moved from thigh to knee, then back again. Each sweep of his hand, caused her tunic to ride higher, until finally she lay exposed save for the panties Belle wore underneath the prison garb.

Her breath hitched in her throat, when he laid a possessive hand over her panties. Tears burned at her eyes, Belle practically choking on a sob. Her eyes closed, she didn't see the reaction the pirate had to that choked out sound, but she felt the hesitating quiver of his hand.

"Are..." She could almost imagine him frowning. "Are you crying?"

Belle said nothing, didn't so much as nod or shake her head. But she trembled, shaking and shivering though she was not cold. And then the tears were falling, the pirate having gently brushed his fingers by her eyes. Belle heard him curse, and when she dared peek open her eyes, she saw him staring not at her, but at his fingers, her tears glistening on the tips.

Hook's eyes no longer glinted with that ravenous look. Instead the pirate simply looked confused, as though he couldn't understand, could not comprehend why anyone, why Belle might be crying in this kind of situation. Nor could Belle understand Hook's reaction to her tears, why they would affect him to the point he'd actually stop mid way his molestations. He'd actually frown, bringing those tear stained fingertips to his lips for a brief taste. And then their eyes would meet, Hook staring at Belle for a long moment, before letting out a stream of vicious curses.

Flinching, Belle saw Hook react to even that. His hand would cup her cheek, his lips parting to say something. He seemed to think better of it, abruptly drawing back so that Belle was free of his touch completely. She quickly scrambled to put distance between them, not trusting him in the slightest. Her heart continued to hammer fast in her chest, almost hurting with it's frantic beats.

There was another one of those moments, where so many things went unvoiced between them. Hook stared at Belle, actually looked her over from head to toe, his eyes showing the struggle within him. He still wanted her, still wanted to bed her, but was also disturbed by her tears. Belle made no attempt to wipe them away, aware they might be the only thing keeping her safe from Hook's lusts.

Hook for his part, was shaken by the protective instincts that had been roused by the sight of Belle's tears. By needs that insisted he comfort not scare her, that told him to take her in his arms for no other reason than to hold and reassure her. It was weird and practically unheard of, Hook the type to ignore or laugh at weeping females. And yet with Belle, a few tears drops and he was undone, Hook realizing just how badly he was frightening her.

That fright couldn't cool down the fires of his loins completely. Hook still wanted her, was still obsessed with Belle, with having her. But it no longer seemed appealing, to force his attentions on her so explicitly. The tears put everything into new perspective, made Hook realize how very bad his idea to show Belle by force how good sex between them could be, had been.

It left him to feel downright embarrassed, but also angry that his fantasies weren't playing out the way he had imagined. That Belle herself wasn't acting the way he had come to expect, the way he needed her too. She wasn't supposed to cry, she wasn't supposed to be scared. Her anger while unpleasant, seemed infinitely more manageable, than this tear streaked girl who shivered and shied away from his every touch.

When Hook had brought Belle to bed, he had thought it all but a given conquest. She would resist, but as he continued to caress, stroke and kiss her, her protests would melt away. Until she was panting with need, and all too willing to spread her legs for him. Instead the very actions that were meant to seduce her into submission, had only made things worse, Belle scared and CRYING.

Hook still wanted Belle. Still wanted to do all the things he had fantasized about, to finished what he had attempted to start a few minutes ago. But he was also realizing it mattered to him that Belle not be scared, that she would enjoy and want him back. But it was adamantly clear that it wasn't going to happen today, or tomorrow, and God help him-them both, if it dragged on for more days than that. Because Hook felt near his limit, felt he could hold back for only so long, before he messed things up completely.

To Be Continued...

Ah...this was, well right before he picked her up and brought her to the bed, the chapter was easy to write. Then it became a bit of a struggle, but I managed to avoid having to do any rewrites. Hooray!

Kinda bummed it's a short chapter, but I liked the last paragraph and thought it a good end to the chapter, rather than try to drag things out to make length. Next chapter will probably be a Belle POV...though I'm kinda arrrghing cause this is one of those chapters that...okay I have plans, but as I write out the story, the actual scenes seem to be trying their best to mess up my planned scenes. Now it seems the bathtub scene can't happen the way I had wanted it too...so I'm all pouty. But otherwise still enjoying writing!

-Michelle

SN-46. thanks! Feeling much better than I was earlier this month. Still got that lingering cough though. X_X

And thank you so much regarding the chapter! I like a darker Hook too! Though he's yummy in so many ways! And yes, he's gonna have to work for Belle...I can imagine him all sullen over that! As for Restraint, I'll try. I really had hoped before I spent almost two weeks sick, to have written and updated so many of my Once stories. I had these grand aspirations that got tossed out the window when I got so damn sick. I feel so mad and disappointed I didn't get to write as much as I had wanted. But doing my best to try and write NOW. :D


End file.

Once Upon a Time, Hurt-Comfort, Romance