Meet Killian Jones. Attractive. Wealthy. Arrogant. He has it all… until he becomes aggressively unattractive outside as he is on the inside. Cursed to find someone that can see him better than he can see himself, he hides away, because who could ever learn to love a beast?
Summary: Killian Jones has always managed tough spots in his con life… but never like this one. His brother is out of jail and convinced the only way to win his name back is to heist the casino of a major Vegas mogul, leaving Killian to do the planning. He now has to deal with a half-brother desperate to gain a name of his own, an ex-fling that carries her own torch against the casino mogul, his brother losing his mind over his ex-wife, his former mentor’s depression and the one woman he can’t get out of his mind giving him chase. Ocean’s Eleven AU
Rating: M
Content warnings: semi-explicit sexual content, law-breaking (they are thieves, liars and con men), mild violence (someone will get punched), mention of former relationships (for the main pair) and cheating (but not for the main pair)
This fic would never exist without the wonderful @sambethe who convinced me to do over hot chocolate on one cold Chicago afternoon and virtually held my hand and betaed this fic for months. thank you SO much for everything you do.
A/N: A long time ago there was talk about Hook & his sea friends and a few collective posts shaped the idea of a Sea Squad. This fic is the attempt to bring that creativity to life. Tagging @queen-mabs-revenge@thesschesthair and @jvosketches as they were part of that initial thinking back in the day. If a few things sound familiar, it’s because they are based on the movie.
Three men sat behind a table, a manila folder lay open on it as they passed the sheets of paper that made up his file between themselves. They seemed to be taking their sweet ass time, reading thoroughly through each of the pages as if he were not sitting there, waiting for his life to change based on their decision.
Part of him wanted to huff in impatience, but he knew he shouldn’t. He had to be on his best behavior, as he’d been all this time. If this didn’t come through, it would be a long while before he got another chance at this. He’d endured so much without losing his temper, he just needed to hold on a little bit more. Just a little more and he’d be out of this godawful place and back to where he needed to be.
“Mr. Jones, this meeting is to determine whether or not you’re likely to break the law again if you’re released on parole. While we have your records of good behavior here and note this is your first convicted offense, your records indicate that there is reason to believe you’ve taken part in other fraud schemes. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Meet Killian Jones. Attractive. Wealthy. Arrogant. He has it all… until he becomes aggressively unattractive outside as he is on the inside. Cursed to find someone that can see him better than he can see himself, he hides away, because who could ever learn to love a beast?
Editing it to add the wonderful fic art that @hollyethecurious made for me, It’s beautiful. Thank you Holly
Emma woke to the sunlight streaming through the open blinds of her and Killian’s bedroom window. Groaning she slowly blinked her eyes open and glared in the direction of the offending sunlight that dared to wake her up on a rare day off from the station. She had been feeling rundown and tired lately, so Killian being the amazing husband that he was offered to work the whole day at the station so that she could take a much needed relaxation day. So just as Emma was about to use her magic to close the blinds and go back to sleep she glanced over to her nightstand and saw that is was after ten o’clock. “Damn” she said to the empty room, not quite believing that she slept so late, “I must have been more tired then I thought.”
Deciding that she had slept enough, Emma stood from the bed and was immediately hit by a dizzy spell! She quickly sat back down and waited for her head to clear and for the room to stop spinning. When it finally did she slowly stood back up and waited, when no dizziness came she chalked it up to just getting out of bed to fast. “That was strange” she muttered to herself and moved to go into the bathroom to get ready for her day.
Emma stepped out of the shower feeling refreshed, as she went to reach for her towel she was hit by a sudden wave a nausea. She quickly wrapped herself in the towel and rushed over to the toilet and then proceeded to empty her stomach of everything she ate last night. “Ugh” Emma groaned flushing the toilet and closing the lid, she rested her forehead on the lid. As she was trying to steady her breathing and will her stomach to stop rolling, a voice came from behind her.
“Swan, are you alright love?” Emma turned her head and found Killian standing in the doorway of the bathroom with a worried expression on his face.
“Killian, what are you doing home?” Emma asked as Killian came rushing over to help her up off the floor and onto the lid of the toilet seat.
“I came home because I was thinking we could have lunch together” he explained. “What happened Emma, why were you on the floor darling?” his voice laced with concern for his wife. Emma looked up into the her husband’s frowning face, and not wanting to worry him any further almost tried to brush the incident off as nothing. Then she thought better of it when he just gave her that look he always gives her when he knows she is trying to hide something.
She decided to just be honest with him and tell him everything that had happened this morning.“I slept late this morning, when I got out of bed I felt dizzy but after a few minutes I felt fine, so I thought maybe I had just stood up to fast.” She paused before continuing, “Then after I got out of the shower I all of a sudden felt nauseous and then threw up, that’s when you found me.” she finished in a rush.
Killian quickly stood, walking over to retrieve her robe that was hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Emma then realized that she had been sitting in nothing but her towel this whole time. He brought it over to her so she could change into it, “Here, Swan let’s get into something a little warmer.” After Emma slipped into the warm cotton of her robe, Killian gathered her in his arms and placed a sweet kiss on her forehead.
“Hmm” Emma hummed in content, always loving the feeling of being in her husband arms.
She leaned back to look up into in face, he leaned forward intending to place a kiss on her lips when Emma pulled back at the last second. Killian looked down at her in confusion so she explained,“I need to brush me teeth, my mouth still feels gross from throwing up.”
Killian just smiled down at her,“Of course Swan, I’ll just wait for you in the bedroom, I need to call your father anyway.”
Now it was Emma’s turn to be confused, “Why do you need to talk to my father?”
“Killian just gave her a look like it should have been obvious, “So he can cover for me at the station for the rest of the afternoon while I stay here with you.” Emma felt a wave of love sweep through her for her husband.
“Killian you don’t need to do that, I’ll be fine” she said to him.
“Swan, what kind of husband would I be if I wasn’t here for my sick wife?” Emma started to protest, but he just cupped her face with his hand and continued “ I know you don’t need me to take care of you love, but I would like to very much be by your side” he finished.
Emma felt her eyes well with tears. Thinking again for probably the millionth time how lucky she was to have this man as the love of her life and her true love. She reached up to lay her hand over his that was still resting on her face and gave him a watery smile and a nod of her head, “I love you” her voice wavering a little bit.
Killian gave her a brilliant smile before replying “I love you to my darling, now how about when you finish in here we see about maybe getting a little bit of food into you?” he suggested.
Emma’s stomach recoiled at the mention of food. But not wanting to say anything because he was being so wonderful, just gave him a nod of her head and turned to place a gentle kiss to his hand. When Killian left to make his phone call to David, Emma turned to the sink to brush her teeth, only to see that the tube of toothpaste was empty. Bending down to open the cabinet beneath the sink to find the extra tube is when she saw it. Laying there, just staring up at her almost mocking her with it’s big bold lettering is a pregnancy test.
Emma bent down to pick it up as memories came back to her in a rush. Countless test’s over the years and countless disappointment’s. After Henry had left to find his own story, they had decided to take a break on the baby making for a while. It had been nice, concentrating on being a married couple again without all the stress of trying to get pregnant. Looking down at the test in her hands, she thinks back to this morning with the dizzy spell when she woke up, and the nausea and throwing up after her her shower and being so tired and rundown lately. Emma gasp, bringing her hand to her mouth in disbelief.
“Oh my god” she uttered, not really believing that this could really be happening after so many years of trying. Knowing that Killian was almost finished with his phone call, she quickly went over the door and shut it softly and locked it. She placed the test on the bathroom counter, deciding not to over think it she opens the box and proceeds to take the test.
When she was finished she places the stick on the the counter. As she stares at it she begins to have hope that this time will bring good news instead of another disappointment. A knock on the door broke her out of her musings, “Swan is everything alright, why is the door locked?” Killian inquired.
Emma called to him quickly “Everything is fine Killian, I’ll be out in just a minute.” Her eyes never leaving the the test. Her eyes started to widen as she watched one line turn into two. Pregnant, she was pregnant after all this time, tears started to immediately fill her eyes.
Realizing that Killian was still knocking on the door and calling out her name. Emma grabbed the test off the counter and hurried to the door and unlocked it. Swinging the door open she launched herself into Killian’s arms, making him stumble back from the unexpected impact. Killian grunted, clearly not expecting the sudden exuberance of his wife. “Not that I don’t mind this at all love, but what brought this on.” he asked.
Emma pulled back slightly and brought the hand that was holding the test up so he could see it. “This is why, Killian I’m pregnant,” she said with a beaming smile on her face. Killian stared at the test for what seemed like an eternity before slowing reaching out to take it from her hands.
“Oh Emma, truly?’ Killian voice cracking a little bit as tears started to fill his eyes. Looking up at him and seeing conflicting emotions dance across his face, a mix of happiness and weariness.
Emma realizes that he also doesn’t want to have false hope. “Yes, Killian it was like when I saw the test everything just sort of clicked into place, me being so tired lately and the dizziness, nausea and then throwing up, I am pregnant,” she tells him reassuringly. Killian stared at her for a few seconds, before a brilliant smile stretched across his face as he pulled her into a passionate kiss.
When they finally pulled back both of them had radiant smiles on their faces. Killian was the first one to speak, “Oh Emma, this is wonderful, a babe you have made me the happiest man in all the realms.”
Emma smiled and replied “ In all the realms huh? Well it’s probably only because you make me the happiest women in all the realms also.” Killian leaned forward to place a gentle kiss to her lips then placed his forehead against hers as both of them stood there basking in their love and the news of their impending parenthood. No other words were needed.
So I reblogged this post and said it needed to be a CS fic. @joneskillian then pretty much demanded *I* make it into said fic… so I did. None of this is even remotely beta’d and I am kinda just throwing it out there before I have a chance to second guess the whole thing, so I apologize for any mistakes!
Also shout out to @alexandralyman for coming up with a very hilarious quip used near the end (don’t wanna spoil it, but… she knows what it is!).
Anywho, hope you all enjoy!
It all starts with Emma walking into the guest house she rents from her brother and sister-in-law to find her ten-year-old son Henry playing with the neighborhood’s stray cat.
“What the hell, kid?” She mutters, eyeing the purring creature wearily as she kicks off her heels and chucks her keys on the kitchen counter.
Henry comes rushing up to her, brown eyes wide. “She followed me home from school, mom…” He rests his hands and chin on the counter, blinking up at her all innocent-like. “Can she stay?”
Emma’s immediate instinct is to give him a hard ‘hell no’ and chuck the cat right back outside. But then the scrawny thing comes trotting over, rubbing up against her son’s legs and meowing, her green eyes as wide as her son’s as she looks up at him, and Emma knows it’s already a lost cause.
“Yeah, fine…” She sighs and Henry whoops, reaching down to scoop the cat right up. “But you’re the one who’s telling your uncle and part of the vet bill to make sure this thing,” She points at the cat. “Isn’t infested with diseases is coming out of your allowance, got it?”
Hope has had him wrapped around her tiny, perfect finger from the moment she came screeching into the world, but the first time he hears her laugh — so unbridled and full of glee — Killian is overcome by the swell of emotion in his chest, and he swears he would move heaven and earth just to hear the sweet sound again. He damn near does, between playing peek-a-boo and making some of the most absurd noises a three hundred plus year-old man can make. He wears things on his head and puts food on his face and blows raspberry kisses to her rounded belly and the bottoms of her chubby feet, all to Hope’s endless delight.
“She adores you, you know,” Emma comments one day, watching them play while she finishes folding their laundry.
He’s sprawled out on his belly on the floor of the living room, Hope giggling and grabbing at his nose.
“Well, the feeling is quite mutual,” he smiles, puffing out his cheeks and crossing his eyes before releasing the air trapped in his mouth and making their daughter squeal at the noise it creates.
Emma places the last bib on the top of the pile and hefts the basket against her hip. She crouches down low when she passes by them to kiss at the top of his head. “I adore you too.”
Killian tilts his face up to hers. “That feeling is also mutual.”
That earns him a soft peck against his lips and a grin as pretty as Hope’s. Eager for another kiss, he catches her ankle with his hook before she can fully stand, and all it takes is one sharp tug to send her off balance and tumbling into his arms. The basket tips in the process and, to Emma’s dismay, all of their clean laundry winds up on the floor.
“Killian!” It’s part cry, part annoyance but mostly laughter as she lands in his lap with a solid ‘oof.’
Hope bursts into another fit of giggles and Killian glances over at her curiously, his brow arched high. He digs his fingers into Emma’s ribs, at the precise spot he knows she’s ticklish, and she jerks against him, her laugh even louder this time while she attempts to scramble away, and as he suspected it might, Hope loves the sound and responds in kind, her own grin gummy and wide, and her chortling boisterous enough to rival Emma’s.
The slow smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth is dangerous with the newfound knowledge he’s aquired. It takes Emma a beat to catch on, her gaze flitting back and forth between he and Hope, but by the time she does, it’s too late, and before she can even protest, he’s tickling her again and blowing raspberries against the curve of her neck.
Their home, already filled with love and messy, perfect bits of life — newly washed clothes on the floor, Hope’s toys in every nook and cranny, leather jackets strewn over the backs of chairs and couches, boots mismatched and misaligned by the front door, keys in the fruit bowl in the kitchen, stacks of unopened mail on the counter and unwashed dishes in the sink — fills with wild, exuberant laughter, too, and Killian wouldn’t have it any other way.
Summary: Killian is stuck in the Enchanted Forest while the woman he loves in in New York with no memory of him. His only consolation is his dreams of her… dreams that are starting to seem disturbingly real. Meanwhile, Emma Swan is starting to have some disturbing dreams of her own.
Notes: This is an idea I had when I started thinking about what to write for Cocktober, but then it started writing itself and now I like it so much I don’t want to hold on to it for another two months. Rated M but maybe E, because I still don’t really know what the cutoff point is, but what I’m saying is that there’s quite a lot of smutty smut. Also, I kinda blame @teamhook for getting me started thinking about whether I could write something purely smutty. Turns out I can’t, and quite a lot of romance snuck in when I wasn’t looking.
The night was dark and largely silent, lit only by the stars and by the thin slice of a silvery moon, the only sounds made by the waves against the hull of the Jolly Roger. Killian sat at his desk, flask of rum in hand, idly digging his hook into the wood, tracing a pattern there. When he realised he was carving the outline of a bird with a long, elegant neck, he pulled his hook away and sighed.
She’s gone, mate, he reminded himself, for what must be the thousandth time. You’ve got to stop this
Taking one last swig from the flask, he re-corked it and began preparing for bed. At least in his dreams he’d see her again, if only at the edges of his vision, dancing away from him as he reached for her. He wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than being awake knowing she was in another realm, out of his reach forever. Wearily, he lay back on his pillows and closed his eyes. Normally it took him time to relax enough for sleep to overcome him, but that night his lids had barely closed before he fell into a dream unlike any he’d ever dreamt before.
They are on the beanstalk, and he sees her cut her hand on a jagged piece of woody vine. She doesn’t seem to notice. When they reach the top he bandages it for her, watching as awareness and reluctant interest dawn in her eyes as he flirts. He wants to kiss her as he had wanted to then, and this time he goes for it, knowing that he will wake seconds before his lips touch hers… but he doesn’t, and she tastes even better than he’d imagined, her lips hot and welcoming as she tilts her head and opens her mouth, her tongue tangling with his. He groans and suddenly they are in Neverland, devouring each other with hot, greedy kisses, the taste of his rum on her tongue driving him mad. Her hands grip his collar holding him tightly to her even as she pulls away from the kiss. He chases her lips with his and this time she lets him catch them, kissing him even more fiercely than before, letting go of his collar to slide her hands under his coat, pushing it from his shoulders. “Hook,” she whispers in his ear, “I want you.” He moans helplessly and tangles his fingers in her hair, his hook pressed into the small of her back so hard it must be painful, but she simply pulls him closer and purrs “I want you to fuck me,” and he wants that too, gods yes, more than he’s ever wanted anything in the whole of his long life, but not here, not against a rough tree or scrabbling in the dirt of the jungle floor, he won’t take her here… and they are in his cabin on the Jolly Roger, in his bed, naked, she is straddling his hips, her head thrown back, golden hair wild and tumbling over her rosy tipped breasts, which are there within his reach— so he reaches, cupping one in his hand, stroking his thumb across her nipple and she moans. “Do that again,” she says, “that feels amazing,” and Killian marvels at how cooperative his subconscious is being but knows he must wake soon, this can’t last. Her hands slide down his chest as he fondles her breast, and then they are on his cock and he can’t believe he hasn’t woken yet. She strokes him once, twice, then lifts her hips and positions him at her entrance. “Any minute now,” he thinks, but no, she is sliding down onto him and he knows this is a dream but he swears he can feel her tight, wet heat around him, squeezing him as she begins to move. She rides him hard and he grasps her hips, fingers and hook digging into her soft skin as he thrusts up to meet her. She takes his hook and runs it across her body, bringing it down between her legs, just above where they are joined. “Touch me with it,” she demands, and he strokes the cool metal across her clit, making her moan. She’s about to come, and he’s close too, so close, and she leans down and takes his mouth again, kissing him deeply, her tongue in his mouth and her teeth on his lips and he explodes inside her, feeling her walls clench around him as she comes. She collapses on his chest and he wraps his arms tightly around her, his face in her hair, breathing her in, and he knows this is a dream —he thinks he knows it— but it feels so bloody real.
Summary: When Emma Swan moved to Storybrooke, Maine, she never imagined she’d end up living out a real-life ghost story. But then again, does anyone really expect to find a cursed mirror, or the 300-year-old pirate trapped inside? Rated T. ~12.5K. Also on AO3.
A/N: I’m back, with my second contribution to @cssns! @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 is responsible for that fantastic gif above – go tell her how awesome she is, because seriously, she’s the best (if its not working, that’s my fault, not hers). As always, thanks to my amazing beta, @snidgetsafan. She’s also the best. Additional thanks to @branlovesouat and @kymbersmith-90, who were 100% responsible for the brainstorming on the CSSNS discord that led to this fic, and helped me get it off the ground.
“Well, kid,” Emma Swan says, apprehension coloring her voice, “looks like this is the place.”
The house isn’t much to look at, to say the least. Truthfully, most of this little town isn’t much to look at. But when Mary Margaret Nolan, an old friend from college, had told Emma about the opening for a counselor at her elementary school, she had jumped at the chance to finally move Henry out of the city and into a place where they can have something resembling a support system. The house Emma purchased is older, shabby-looking, but is in surprisingly good condition inside, albeit dusty and outdated. The previous owner had died some months before, leaving her assets to the town trust. Having no real need for a shabby Queen Anne home, the town had been anxious to sell it, and Emma had snapped it up at a bargain price, some of the late owner’s furnishings included. A lot of it’s probably going to end up carted off to the nearest thrift store in the back of David Nolan’s truck, but Emma’s hopeful that there might be a few pieces they can use. The more she can save on furniture, the better.
At the time of purchase, it seemed like there were almost no downsides – furnished, affordable, with a nice sized yard for Henry to run around in – but looking now at the crooked fence and peeling paint, Emma’s a lot more nervous. God, what have I gotten myself into? she wonders with rising panic. No one has ever accused Emma of being handy, and by the looks of things, she may have quite a few projects on her hands.
It does help that Henry is clearly thrilled by the new house, practically skipping up the front walk with his backpack and all the energy a five-year-old can muster.
“This house is so cool, Mom!” he exclaims excitedly, bringing a smile to Emma’s face despite all her worries. “Can we put a play castle in the backyard? Can my room be in the tower? Oh! Do you think it’s haunted?” Frankly, Henry seems most excited about the last possibility, which Emma will take the time to be worried about later when her schedule is more open.
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.
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 