Killian Jones opened his eyes to the gray light of the early morning – and an empty bed. Immediately, he was on high alert. What in blazes was Emma doing up at five in the morning? As far as she was concerned, this time of the morning was still the middle of the night.
A soft whimper from across the hall drew his attention and light dawned. Suddenly, he knew where his wife was.
He threw the covers off his legs and crept to Hope’s room. Sure enough, there were both of his girls, sound asleep curled up together in Hope’s twin bed. Faint tear stains on Hope’s cheeks and the slight furrow of her brow told him that another nightmare was ramping up in his sweet little love’s subconscious.
Hope had been having nightmares every night for the past couple of weeks. Emma insisted it was a phase – at four, Hope was the exact right age for them – but knowing that her nightmares would eventually pass did not make watching her suffer any easier.
Killian crouched down beside his daughter and ran his finger down her little cheek. “Hush, little love,” he murmured, “it’s all right. It’s just a dream.”
Thankfully, she calmed without waking. “There we go, little love,” he whispered, smiling. “Sleep well.”
He dropped a soft kiss on her cheek and rounded the bed to crouch beside Emma. Hope was every bit a bed hog as her mother and poor Emma was balanced precariously on the edge of the mattress. Killian roused her with a gentle shake of her shoulder and a soft call of her name. “Apologies, love,” he murmured when she dragged her eyes open. “I just thought you might be uncomfortable squeezed into a tiny bed with a four-year-old.”
“Mmm.” Emma stretched her cramped muscles and sat up, taking care not to wake her little girl. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep with her.”
“Another nightmare?” Killian asked.
Emma nodded. “At three-ish. She cried herself back to sleep and I couldn’t make myself leave her. I … I didn’t want her to be alone.”
Oh, how Killian understood. He knew, as well as she did, how terrible it was to wake from a nightmare and have no parent to comfort him. How terrifying it was to have to calm himself down enough to go back to sleep. “Aye, love. I understand perfectly.”
She smiled sadly. Of course he did.
“She’ll always know that someone is there for her,” he continued, holding his hand out to his wife. She took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. “She’ll always know how very loved she is.”
“Damn straight she will,” Emma agreed.
“But right now, her mommy needs a couple more hours’ sleep in her own bed,” Killian smiled.
A couple more hours sounded wonderful. “Mm. And her daddy needs to relax a little before getting up to start the day.”
Killian chuckled. “Aye, love. I think he does.”
With a glance back at Hope, who was sleeping peacefully, Killian and Emma crept out of the room. Still, they left their door and hers open, ready to run to Hope’s side the second their baby needed them.
It’s late, late, late and the crew is trying their best to block with umbrellas but a fan spots a VERY passionate Captain Swan kiss and the fandom goes wild!
Summary: Emma Nolan spent a lot of time alone, and that was fine by her. Because one is never truly alone. She should know. She can talk to dead people. What she didn’t expect was one of these spiritual encounters to hang around, taking her down a rabbit hole of missing women, revenge, and, least expected, love. Can she save the day and Killian Jones? Is there even another choice?
A/N: We’re already on chapter four! Things with the case are really starting to heat up here, and some big background on Killian comes to light. Also, the confirmation on the identity of the woman Emma has been hearing all this time! I’m sure you guys have already guessed who she is, but her identity is confirmed here. Thanks so so much as always for reading and a HUGE thank you to the fantastic @kmomof4 being such an amazing part of this process as my beta and thanks to @courtorderedcake the brilliant artwork she’s created for this piece. Enjoy chapter 4!
Chapter 4
Emma hated days like this. She knew from the multiple messages she’d gotten from Graham and Captain Mills that the tip had been heeded and the captain had sent out a search party to recover Marian’s body last night. Which means Robin would be there this morning and very much grieving. Her heart hurt for him.
Unfortunately, Marian’s death fit a laundry list of other victims in the area. She was a young woman, missing for several months, and connected to Weaver Gold. Of course, she was the only one that knew for sure that Weaver Gold was the actual killer, but without actual physical evidence, she couldn’t make that accusation. Thankfully, Robin’s former association with him was enough to warrant further investigation.
Emma arrived at the office a little earlier than usual, sipping on her iced coffee (no repeats of yesterday, thank you very much), and reviewing her case files before Graham got there. She flipped through a number of pages, looking at names and faces of so many missing girls she hoped she wouldn’t find like Marian. Ashley Boyd. Ivy Belfrey. Ariel Havfrue. Shirin Amira. Aurora Prince. Young women that had all gone missing without a trace within the last six months, from all walks of life with seemingly no connection to one another, except one: Mr. Gold. In one way or another, usually through a deal they had made to get out of a bad spot in their lives, all of them had a connection to Gold. And now that a body had turned up, it was time to dig deeper. She turned back to the bulletin board set up with information on Gold and his enterprise and looked at the red yarn webbing connecting pieces of these women’s lives to him and it made her blood boil. She was going to be the one to take him down. She had to be.
“Hey, Em.” Graham’s sheepish voice came from the doorway behind her as her partner made his way into their shared office. “You’re here early.”
Emma nodded and hummed an affirmative sound before turning back to study her board. Graham cleared his throat and she turned back to him to see him watching her intently.
“Something you needed, Humbert?” she asked, gathering her files on the desk.
“Ah, no. Well, yes. Kind of,” he rambled and Emma raised an eyebrow. He sighed deeply before continuing. “What I mean to say is I feel bad about yesterday. I can’t help but feel like maybe your migraine was partially caused by what happened with me startling you and the spill, and of course I feel terrible about that as well. Anyways, I wanted to see about making it up to you by maybe taking you to dinner?”
It was Emma’s turn to sigh. Graham looked like such a hopeful little puppy every time he asked her out that, at first, she hated to say no, but she just wasn’t in the same place as Graham was. That was at first. Now, she still wasn’t in the same place he was and rejection came automatically to her.
“Sorry, Graham. Don’t mix business with pleasure. Is Mills in yet?” She tried to change the subject around Graham’s crestfallen change in expression. He nodded and began shuffling through papers on his own desk.
“Uh, yeah. I dunno if she even went home last night after they pulled the body. They’re razing the whole field to see if there’s anymore case files we can close.” Graham seemed to have found everything he needed and nodded at his desk, not meeting Emma’s eyes. “I’ll, uh, see you out there.”
Emma squeezed her eyes shut tightly as he left the office. When she was sure he was gone, she turned and picked up her case files and followed him out into the bullpen for the meeting.
Regina Mills was a no-nonsense, severe woman. She was rather imposing for her average stature, her raven hair always in its sleek bob, immaculate pantsuits for every occasion, big brown eyes that looked into the depths of your soul. Emma’s two years under her as her captain were tumultuous, to say the least. Over time, they had learned to get along and had even become friends of a sort. Well, as close to being Emma’s friend as you could get. But they understood each other, and that was more than Emma had with most people. Unbidden, Killian’s face popped into her mind. Maybe he was someone who could understand, too. Emma shook his image from her head as fast as it entered, a flush crawling up her neck at how much she actually thought about someone she’d never even met before.
Things had actually been quieter on the encounters front. Instead of relief, Emma felt unsettled. She was always waiting for the other shoe to drop and she was very careful to avoid touching anything that might trigger her. Especially that damn shirt. But along with all of that, there was an underlying fear that she may be running out of time on multiple counts. If this Killian Jones needed rescue, she knew time was of the essence. Right now, though, she had a job to do.
She gathered her case files and walked into the bullpen, taking a seat on the edge of an open desk next to where Graham sat. A few other people had already gathered themselves. Jefferson, their tech analyst was typing away at his laptop, completely engrossed in his task. Two junior detectives, August Booth and Mulan Fa, stood chatting in front of the water cooler. The door to the central office opened and Captain Mills came striding out.
“Alright, people. As you all know, there was a huge break in the case yesterday with the unfortunate recovery of Marian Locksley’s body. We still have no leads on the tip that came in leading to the location of her remains, but Jefferson is looking into that,” she addressed the group and Jefferson gave a mock two fingered salute, eyes still glued to his screen. Emma felt butterflies rise up in her stomach, but she’d been careful. There’s no reason she’d be found out. “Now, we have a solid lead on a connection to Weaver Gold in regards to these disappearances, but he’s sealing up leaks quickly since the body was discovered. Information out of his operation is at an essential standstill. So, we’ll have to get it from the source. Nolan, Humbert!” Emma’s head snapped up at her name and Graham stood up straighter beside her.
“You have three days to get your affairs in order. Then you’re undercover.”
Emma’s heart jumped into her throat as Regina continued to speak and passed them each a manilla folder with information on the identities created for them. She had never been undercover before in the four years since she’d been promoted to detective.
“Of course you’ll want to use all in house resources before you go, you’ll only have Jefferson as your contact once you are in the field,” Regina continued and Emma looked up to her.
“Did Robin come in already?” she asked and Regina cocked an eyebrow.
“He’s in my office. He’s provided us with some invaluable intel towards your undercover assignment already,” she replied.
“Is he… well, I mean I know he’s not… but is he…” Emma struggled to find words to ask about the wellbeing of the man who had lost his wife. There was a reason Graham did most of the talking to the vics.
Regina gave a slow, cool nod.
“He’s as well as can be expected,” she said thoughtfully. It was rare to see an introspective Regina. She cared about a lot of things, but was never really one to wear her heart on her sleeve. Emma nodded, unsure of how to read Regina.
“Well, it looks like the going just got tough, so I better get going.” She stood and the two nodded at each other before Emma walked to her office.
Inside, Graham was poring over the contents of the manila file on his desk with his undercover instructions. She sat opposite of him, eyeing him carefully. He sighed heavily.
“This is insane,” he said, flipping his file closed sharply as Emma opened hers. She shrugged.
“We know the case the best. We’ve been working on it for months now and no one knows Gold better than the two of us. Makes sense.” She continued to flip though the file outlining her role as a petty thief and Graham’s as a fence of sorts. She scowled down at the pages in her hands.
“I know. You’re right. I just can’t help but feel like something bigger is going on. And I know that should make me more ready to go, but it just makes me nervous,” he admitted. Emma looked up to him and studied the apprehension in his gaze.
“I know, Graham. It’s a tough spot. But we’re professionals and we can do this. At least we can count on one another.” She offered him a warm smile which he returned with a stiff one of his own.
“Yeah. You’re right. It must be first time undercover nerves. I’m gonna go grab a coffee and talk to Jefferson. You want anything?” he asked and Emma shook her head.
“No, I’m good. Gonna look through some things and probably head out for the day. Get everything ready to go.” She shuffled the papers back into place and closed the folder.
“I’ll leave you to it, then. See you Friday.” He smiled gently at her again and she nodded her response, turning her attention to her computer as he left the space.
Emma rolled her neck, trying to relieve some tension. She could only hope this went smoothly and quickly. With Gold’s status and notoriety, it was unlikely though. Her whole life was likely to be put on the back burner for quite some time. Ruby was going to be pissed. Protective pissed, but still pissed. And then there was the issue with Killian Jones. She felt a pang in her chest at the idea of leaving him to suffer through whatever she was supposed to be “saving” him from. She rolled the mouse on the screen as an idea came to her. She opened up a new search screen and began to type.
Killian Jones.
More than one result popped up in the records database, British naval records, immigration records, naturalization paperwork, guardianship records for one Liam Jones, but the blue eyes staring out from the mugshot on her screen she instantly recognized. So he had a past. She clicked on his arrest record and pulled up his history. Her jaw dropped almost comically.
Robbery.
Assault.
Burglary.
Breaking and entering.
Money laundering.
Evading arrest.
Attempted murder.
The litany of charges he had been arrested for was impressive, to say the least. Curiously enough, however, all charges were subsequently dropped after his arrest due to there not being enough evidence to hold him, except the assault. The assault, an apparently isolated incident against a man named Herman Ahab, he served two years behind bars for. But the scowling man with the piercing eyes and hard set to his jaw seemed absolutely capable of each and every allegation. A far cry to the soft image of a lost and hurting soul gazing wistfully over the sea that she had experienced before. Emma was more conflicted than ever. Was Killian Jones in danger? Or was he the danger himself? Before she could decide for herself the now familiar, but still panic inducing, scent of jasmine crept up on her causing her flesh to erupt in goose pimples.
Good man.
The soft voice murmured. Emma scoffed.
“Clearly,” she said, feeling insane for acknowledging the encounter out loud. A surge of floral perfume surrounded her and the words were repeated, a little more forcefully.
Good man.
“If you say so. I don’t know why I keep listening to you. I don’t even know who the hell you are,” she grumbled petulantly.
The voice whispered an answer to the statement she made almost immediately.
Milah.
“Milah, huh. You got a last name, Milah?” Emma asked, bringing up a new search screen to do a little more digging. As quickly as the encounter had come on, the scent of jasmine began to fade and Emma had the distinct feeling she was alone again.
She sighed heavily and clicked back on the page with Killian Jones’ information. The remaining charges on his rap sheet all appeared to be linked to a single arrest, so she pulled up the report and her heart almost slammed to a stop in her chest.
Killian Jones had been accused of trying to kill Weaver Gold.
Emma was never much of a believer in fate, but it seemed like there was something bigger at work here. Call it grand design, destiny, or whatever, there was much to get ready for.
cshappybeginning 