Close Encounters of the Spiritual Kind
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?
Also available on AO3 and FFN!
A/N: Hey guys! I forgot to say in my first author’s note that I’ll be posting every Monday, so keep a lookout! I’m so so grateful to each and every one of you for giving this a chance and I’m so thrilled that you guys like it so far! As always, a ginormous thank you to the best beta in the world @kmomof4 whom I adore beyond measure! Without further ado, I give you chapter two!
Chapter 2
What kind of can of worms had she just opened? She slammed the journal shut immediately, heart pounding against her ribcage. No, no, no, no, no. She was nobody’s personal savior. She reached out for the case file she had been studying and resolved to put this whole mess behind her. She just wouldn’t feed into it. Simple.
She set her glasses on her face and got back to work, losing herself in the case file for Marian Locksley. A young, vibrant mother who one day didn’t pick up her four year old son from daycare and was never seen again. It had been two months at this point and the case was getting colder by the day. Emma was good at her job, but this case had been unusually difficult for her. After her promotion to detective in the missing persons department three years prior, she quickly developed one of the highest success rates in recovering missing persons in the country. She knew that her “abilities” played a large part in her skill set, but whatever edge she could give herself she figured was worth the results. Closure. Reuniting loved ones. Making things a little less broken. Maybe she had a bigger savior complex than she realized. So, she lost herself in the file in front of her until her eyes ached and the clock on the wall beeped out an arrival into a new day.
That night, she slept fitfully, dark dreams and empty spaces. Once or twice, she thought she heard a man’s voice, but it sounded far away, like he was talking behind several closed doors. She tried to make her way towards the voice, but then it would change direction. She began to feel lost, hopeless. The blackness seemed to claw at her physically, preventing her from moving. And then there was a soft light, as if it emanated from under a doorway and a gentle song hummed in the background.
The song she had heard many times before, but she could never place it. At first, she thought it was another encounter. She often heard bits of voices or songs or different sounds when having an encounter, but this song persisted throughout her life, never fading like a regular encounter did. Emma heard the melody for the first time after her parents died. It appeared at times when she felt the lowest, when she felt hopeless and alone, or when she was overwhelmed. It was almost as if the song was tailor made to soothe her unsettled soul. Emma had long since chalked it up to a coping technique. One her dream self was inherently grateful for now. She relaxed against the darkness and moved towards the light. It grew brighter with every step she took and the song faded away as her curiosity and courage screwed themselves to their sticking places. Emma found herself in front of a door. Tentatively, she reached out and turned the cold handle and pushed.
The room was empty and dimly lit, and not so much a room at all, moreso a large open space that Emma could not see the end of. But that didn’t matter when the light illuminated a tall man standing beyond the door, his large frame seemingly filling the emptiness. He was handsome, very stern and sad looking. Short copper curls caught the light and blue eyes stared into her at her place at the door. Emma could almost feel his worry rolling off of him and she moved towards him automatically. When they came close enough to where Emma had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes in accommodation for his height, the man reached out and grasped her arm firmly. Emma tried to pull away but his bright blue gaze fixed her in place.
“His name is Killian Jones,” the man said in a deep British accent and tightened his grip on her arm to the point of pain, as if he was trying to hold her there with him. He opened his mouth to say something else but all that came out was a shrill beeping noise.
Emma shot up in bed gasping as her alarm clock continued its shrieking cadence in the background. It took a moment to shake off the dream, grasping at the details on the edge of her conscious mind. Absently, she reached behind her to cut off the annoyance that was her alarm clock and her bicep protested against the stretch. She drew back with a soft sound after the beeping stopped and looked at the bare skin of her upper arm. A faded blue bruise marred the skin there that looked remarkably like a…
A handprint.
Emma’s mouth dropped open. This was new. She’d never had a physical mark from a spirit before. A thrill of fear and validation ran through the core of her being, sending a shiver up her spine. Even though Emma had learned to cope with the fact that the other side filtered across the veil into her daily life, she had kept it to herself, suffering (and even rejoicing on occasion) in silence. But this. As terrifying as it was to be physically marked by a spirit, Emma couldn’t help but feel so sane. Throughout her life with her encounters, Emma often felt… off. The thought that she might be crazy (cue midnight searches into schizophrenia and multiple personality disorders on more than one occasion) had crossed her mind more often than even she cared to admit. Yeah, her arm hurt a little, and fuck that guy for manhandling her like that, but it was real. A disbelieving, incredulous giggle garbled its way up her throat. She tried to tamp down the buzz under her skin and took several deep, calming breaths.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand next to the alarm clock and her head snapped to it, shaking away the hold of her thoughts, if only temporarily. Picking up the device, she flipped through the notifications she’d obtained, the most recent one and the culprit of the buzz she’d heard being from Ruby.
Red 10:02 am
Hey gf, u off today?
Emma smiled softly. Ruby was just the person she needed to take her mind off all the craziness with work and the… general craziness she was experiencing. Ruby was loud, vibrant, full of gossip, and moved at the speed of sound. She was a lot to handle but Emma wouldn’t change her for anything. She was the one who brought Emma out of her shell after she took her in and felt all alone. Her brand of pep was exactly what Emma needed. So she texted back.
Emma 10:04 am
Off and free, lunch?
Red 10:05 am
Lunch and…
Red 10:05 am
Shopping?
Emma smirked at her screen. Ruby knew Emma hated shopping but would give her an honest opinion. She was also the only one that could rein in what would inevitably end up with more and more risqué fashion choices. Emma often wondered when shopping with Ruby why the woman bothered getting dressed at all sometimes. But it served as a good distraction, and that’s just what Emma needed. But she couldn’t appear to eager, lest Ruby drag her into these kinds of things on a regular basis. And Emma really didn’t like to shop.
Emma 10:06 am
I expect bribery.
Red 10:06 am
Bribing a cop? What kind of desperate do you think I am? 😉
Emma 10:07 am
If ur asking me to shop in the 1st place, I’d say pretty desperate lol
Red 10:07 am
…
Lunch liquor?
Emma 10:07 am
Sold lol
Red 10:08 am
Kk meet u at Granny’s 1 hr xoxo
Letting her phone clatter back to its former position on her bedside table, Emma swung her legs over the side of the bed and begrudgingly made her way out of her bedroom and into her modest bathroom, turning the faucet in the shower to hot. Steam rolled through the room as she set about removing her clothes, when she felt the twinge in her bicep again, reminding her of the night’s events. She continued to dwell on it as she stepped into the warm spray.
The man she saw hadn’t been very old, close to her age, she’d say. But there was something about him that read older than his actual years. His stance was commanding, authoritative, but his eyes, although laced with sadness, had an underlying kindness and honesty to them. She tried to remember everything she could from the dream as she scrubbed her apple scented shampoo into her hair.
’His name is Killian Jones,’ he’d said. And that accent again. She’d heard a similar one not long ago, but female. Her mind flitted back to the first encounter with the woman.
K J
Killian Jones.
SAVE HIM.
What the- the encounters were connected? In what seemed to be a continuing series of firsts with her abilities, now two separate people were reaching out to her with the same message? Emma wiped the water from her face and slicked back her long hair under the water, rinsing herself free of suds before wrenching it off. She was going to ignore it. That was it. This was too much. Wasn’t it? But something about the earnestness in the eyes of the man from her dream gave her pause. She stepped out of the bathtub and began to towel off and dress.
Well, maybe it wouldn’t hurt just to look into it. It would probably be a dead end anyway. It was the first time more than one person had come through to her with the same message. And clearly, they thought she could help in some way, be it because she was a police detective, or that she was the only one nearby who could hear them, either way it nagged at her and she hated it. She would look into it once, and if she came up empty she would pursue it no further. Besides, she could still just be crazy. A sharp ache where the bruise on her arm was imprinted begged to differ. She shook it off and made her way to Granny’s with a plan on where to start already brewing in her mind.
Granny’s was busy, but the little diner was always bustling with activity. The decor hadn’t been updated since God only knew when, the green vinyl covered booths patched with tape in some areas and the chrome lined countertop sported several dings, but it all added to the charm. A little piece of small town right in the big city. Boston had nowhere else like it. Ruby’s grandmother had owned the little establishment and the inn attached to it for as long as she could remember. As Emma made her way past several customers to the counter, she couldn’t help but notice all the familiar faces. Granny Lucas had built a legacy on good food, friendship, and nowhere else had felt quite like home since her parents died. It helped that the actual home she’d grown up in since she was 12 was right above the diner.
“Emma!” Ruby’s voice cut through the cacophony of the early lunch rush and the bubbly brunette bounced around the counter to greet her. Emma grinned at the sight of her before she was wrapped in a tight hug. “I’ve got our lunch order in already. Grab a booth for us will you? I’ll be right back.”
“Sure, Red,” Emma replied and Ruby smirked at the nickname before slipping back behind the counter and getting back to wrapping up work. Emma made her way towards the back, near the jukebox, and slid into an open booth. The seat creaked and groaned underneath her slight frame and she pulled out her phone to check for new messages. There was one waiting from Graham Humbert, her partner at the precinct and frequent seeker of her affections.
Humbert 11:17 am
Hey, can you bring the Locksley case file in tomorrow? Husband is coming in for update Thursday around 2.
Emma 11:29 am
Yeah I can do that.
Humbert 11:30 am
See you then 😉
Emma was grateful that Graham left it professional today, though the winky face caused her to wrinkle her nose. She had tried with him before. One date about a year ago and a nice kiss at the end of it, but she just didn’t feel the spark that he clearly had since he hadn’t stopped asking her for a repeat since. It was always innocent, he was never pushy, but Emma turned him down just the same, often citing that it would be unprofessional to pursue a relationship with him. But the truth was, Emma Nolan was a broken human being. When her high school sweetheart, Neal Cassidy, the first person she opened her heart to, died unexpectedly when they were eighteen in a house fire, she struggled to recover. A couple disastrous relationships later, Emma had resigned herself to one night stands and being alone.
Ruby dropped a plate in front of Emma noisily before setting her own plate across from her and settling their drinks beside them. Emma looked down at the plate of grilled cheese and onion rings and smiled, thankful for the thoughtfulness of her friend.
“So. I have a date.” Ruby smiled and took a bite of the burger on her own plate. Emma bobbed her head in acknowledgement. Ruby always had a date.
“Hence the shopping, I suppose,” Emma said and took a sip of the fruity drink concoction next to her plate before making a face. “What is that?”
“Something I’m trying on the menu. I got you a Jack and Coke, too, in case that was too tropical for you.” Ruby shrugged and Emma pushed the drink away, moving to the glass with the darker liquid. “And yes, I really want to impress this girl. I know you hate shopping, but I really really need your opinion.” She pouted and Emma chuckled.
“So, is it anyone I know?” Emma asked before digging into her food. Ruby grinned widely.
“It’s Dorothy. That new bartender down at the Rabbit Hole,” she replied nonchalantly. They chatted about the date and how they met, making comfortable small talk throughout their meal. As they finished, Ruby put on her puppy dog eyes again.
“Shopping?” she asked hopefully. Emma gave an exaggerated sigh.
“Shopping.” Ruby squealed at Emma’s acquiescence. “But I have something of my own that I saw a few days ago at the Goodwill that I didn’t grab. I wanted to go back for it.” Ruby’s face lit up with shock, then delight, then indignation.
“Wait, you went shopping? And you want to get something for yourself? And you went without me?!” Her words mirrored the emotions flitting over her features. Emma shrugged sheepishly.
“Yes to all of those things. I’m sorry. But you’re here now,” Emma tried to placate her. Thankfully Ruby accepted it.
“Yes and to the Goodwill it is! I’m so excited!”
Several hours and skimpy outfits later, Ruby had her date outfit (along with a few others) and the floral blouse that started the madness days ago was nowhere to be found. Emma was beginning to get frustrated. She hated shopping with a passion. Fashion was never high on her priority list. Sure, she had a couple LBD’s, a couple of pantsuits, but the majority of her wardrobe was about comfort. Give her some jeans and a tank any day. But she couldn’t help but feel a little discouraged.
That blouse was no guarantee, but it couldn’t hurt. It could have been the key to getting rid of this pestering the fastest way possible. She couldn’t shake the words from her mind.
Killian Jones.
SAVE HIM.
Maybe he was missing. She could use her resources at the department to help with that. That’s what she did, that’s her comfort zone. But beyond that…
She couldn’t help the pang that went through her over the thought that she couldn’t help him. He was obviously very loved, she was simply afraid of biting off more than she could chew.
“Hey, Em! What about this one?”
Emma turned to see Ruby’s latest find and her eyes almost popped out of her skull when she saw Ruby holding a very not her style, sleeveless, floral, button-front blouse to her lithe figure.
“That’s it,” Emma said and Ruby looked at her quizzically. It was Ruby’s usual style, certainly, but it definitely wasn’t something she would have thought Emma would pick out for herself.
“This one?” she asked.
Emma moved forward and took the blouse from Ruby’s hands and was immediately wrapped in an invisible jasmine embrace.
“This is the one.”
cshappybeginning 