Killian, David, and Mary Margaret stepped gingerly over the rubble where the supermarket had once stood. A charred shopping cart sat to their left, upended, it's melted wheels motionless.

"This can't have been Emma." Mary Margaret whispered, her eyes wide.

David sighed angrily. The midnight call from the station had been the last thing he wanted. He didn't mind late night calls usually, but lately they all seemed to surround catastrophes caused by his daughter.

"It was." Killian sounded defeated as he crouched to pick up a shred of black leather, seemingly untouched by the blaze that had torn through the business.

Mary Margaret bit her lip. "What do we do?"

"Same thing we have been." David answered, turning back to the squad car. "Fill out a report and add it to the gigantic list of why the town hates us." He pulled a clipboard from the passenger seat through the open window and began to scribble on it. "With any luck we can get it done before people show up."

No sooner than the words passed his lips did a faded truck squeal into the parking lot.

"Fat chance, mate." Killian called, tucking the piece of fabric into his jacket pocket.

They all turned to see Leroy running toward them.

"What the hell happened?!" He yelled, looking around.

"Don't know yet." David said, looking back down at the clipboard.

"It's her again, isn't it?" Leroy glared at the ruins and growled under his breath.

The prince's head snapped up. "Didn't you hear me? I just said said we don't know yet. Don't ask questions if you're not going to listen to the answers. Now, please evacuate the premises. Official police business."

"Aw come on!" The shorter man raged and pointed to Killian and Mary Margaret. "They're not police."

"Hey, guys, wanna be deputies? Great! You're deputies." He turned away from the pair to look back at Leroy. "They are now. So please excuse us." He gave the man a dazzling smile and resumed his writing.

"Fine." Leroy sighed before climbing back in his truck and peeling out of the lot, obviously eager to run to Granny's and share what he had witnessed.

"Well, that was harsh." Mary Margaret said, coming up beside her husband. After a moment, the two were engaged in a heated discussion.

Killian frowned at the rubble, kicking away a lump of something next to his boots.

Something at the back of the charred concrete building caught his eye. A flash of something white and shiny black. He looked up and narrowed his eyes, scanning the area.

And there she was, peering at him from around the corner.

Emma Swan.

She looked only vaguely like she used to. Her once honey blonde hair had become a color akin to ice. She'd shed her customary jeans and buttery red jacket for something a bit more edgy. Her black leather pants fit like a second skin. The matching corset pushed her bosom up like it was being offered as a meal. Her leather duster swirled around her thighs in the gentle breeze.

She lifted a hand and crooked her index finger before disappearing behind the building.

He glanced at his companions and found them still deep in their conversation.

Killian moved across the lot soundlessly, pausing for a brief moment before slipping around the corner.

She was reclined against the charred brick, one ankle crossed over the other, scrolling through an article on her phone. It disappeared in a puff of red smoke when she saw him and she straightened up.

He cocked his head slightly to the side, eyeing her warily. In the beginning, she'd tried to remain her old self. That had failed about a month later. She'd stopped snowing her face in town about the same time everything went to shit. Businesses were vandalized almost every night.

"Don't look at me like that, Killian." She snapped. Her voice sent a shiver down his spine. Even that was different. The pitch was all wrong. It sounded too high, and cold.

"How should I look at you? I was just woken in the middle of the night to come take a look at your latest tantrum." He crossed his arms. "Honestly, we know you're wonderfully powerful. There's no need to do all this just for attention."

She waved her hand and his back slammed up against the bricks. "You will NOT speak to the Dark One that way." She hissed.

"So, you're going by that now?" He managed, trying his best to keep his cool.

"Oh, yes. Suits me, doesn't it?" Her smile was pure venom.

"Mmm. So, why stick around after causing all this mess? You never have before."

She sighed, releasing him. "I've grown bored, my dear Killian. Making the town scramble just isn't as fun as it used to be."

"And?" He rubbed his left shoulder, trying to massage away the pain hitting the wall had caused.

"And I thought I'd try something a little different." She moved closer and shoved him against the wall again, this time with her own hands. Before he had time to object, her mouth was on his, drawing a tortured moan from him.

She pulled away and released her hold.

"Sorry, love. Not interested." He panted. "I've got to get back to your parents."

"They can wait." Her mouth found his again, and this time it was he who pressed her into the wall, his hands holding her wrists captive above her head.

"Emma, please. Don't do this to me." He whispered roughly, looking into her eyes for the first time since she changed. He expected to see at least a glint of the old Emma there, but there was nothing. "I worked so hard to be good for you. I changed everything about myself. You know how much I want you, but I don't want you like this."

Her eyes narrowed again. "Beggers can't be choosers. You want me? This is your chance." She rocked her hips forward and licked her lower lip.

His mind raced. He didn't want to undo all of the work he had done. Of course a large part of him wanted to just forget and surrender to her.

What was he supposed to do?