Hi Everyone! Well this is my first OUAT fic and my first published on this site. I typically do not like to publish a story before I have it completed, because I don't like to leave people hanging with an unfinished story. But I have been struggling with whether or not this story is worth continuing so I decided to post it in progress. I am hopeful that if reviews are good the writers block will stay away. And if suggestions inspire me, I'll probably write them in. So without further ado, please enjoy Chapter 1. Let me know if I should continue or not.

Chapter 1 – 5:00 AM

Five o'clock in the morning. Who the hell could be knocking on the door at 5:00 in the morning? It had to be a dream. No one in their right mind would have come calling at such an early time. The apartment was dark; the sun wasn't even attempting to rise yet on the cold February morning. I still had another two hours before I had to be up and getting ready for work and I was enjoying my bed. I rolled over and snuggled further under the covers. There was nothing better than a warm feather bed and a down comforter in the cold of winter. I had never had either until my mother introduced me to them. I guess feather bedding was a very common occurrence in the enchanted forest.

There it was again, a definite knock at the door. This time it was louder and more determined. I heard someone scrambling to make it to the door before my little brother was awoken. Neal was finally getting to the point where he was sleeping for at least five hours at a time during night, but still, if he was asleep then the underlying goal was to keep him asleep. The footsteps were heavy, too heavy for Mary Margaret, so that only left David. It was Henry's week to stay with Regina, maybe it was him who was knocking? I shook my head at the thought and gave a slight laugh. Who was I kidding; a team of wild horses couldn't get that kid moving before 7:00 am. He was a teenager after all.

"Someone's idea of a bad joke," I mumbled to myself as I rolled over once again to hear a little more clearly.

I strained my ears to listen to the voices, downstairs. They were definitely male; one voice was David; without a doubt; and the other was deep and baritone. It wasn't a voice that I could immediately recognize. David must have warned him to keep his voice low. Had it not been so cold that morning, I might have pulled myself out of bed to get a better vantage point to hear the conversation. Soon I heard the door closed, but there were no footsteps. That meant that David had stepped out into the hallway. No, this was not good. A visitor at 5 AM and dad went out into the hallway with him. Damn it. Time to get up and check it out.

As I stepped onto the cold hardwood floor, I reached for a hair tie to pull my long locks into a messy ponytail. I descended the stairway as quietly as I could; I would like to say that it was to ensure that my brother stayed asleep, but honestly I was hoping to hear some of the conversation on the other side of the door. As I approached the door, I listened for another second before opening it. I poked my head out. I was still in my flannel pajamas and no stranger needed to see anymore than my head.

"Dad?" I said as I looked the stranger up and down, "Is everything ok?"

The guy was tall with light brown hair and dark eyes. He was dressed in jeans and a navy blue wool coat. No hat or gloves, which seemed odd for February in Maine.

I didn't miss the look of confusion or was it disbelief on the stranger's face when I called David "dad." The way he put his eyebrows together and glanced between the two of us begged for an explanation. But I was not willing to give one at the moment.

"Everything is fine, go back inside, I'll be right in."

I heard the sternness in my father's voice, followed by the look. You know the look, right? The one that says don't question me. I was starting to learn. I had a tendency to pull the 'I'm an adult' card. But there were times when I just knew that I better do as I was told. And this was one of those times. And with it being 5 am, I wasn't awake enough to argue.

I found it strange that David didn't call me by my name or even one of his little pet names that he had for me. Names that I was still trying to get used to hearing. Usually a sentence like that would have included Emma or sweetheart. That was always his way of sugar coating the command. No this was different. There was a reason he didn't say my name. He didn't want that guy to know me. Why?

I looked at my father with skepticism one last time before closing the door. He didn't say another word to me, he just nodded. You know, the kind of nod that says, "get going."

I made my way to the kitchen to put on a batch of hot chocolate. Most people liked coffee in the morning, but this family was a group of hot chocolate lovers. Don't get me wrong, coffee was good, but our serious conversations were done over hot chocolate with cinnamon. And a serious conversation was what was coming, as soon as that father of mine came back through the door. There was no way that I was going to let him brush off anything that just happened.

"Who was that?" I asked as soon as I heard the door open. I didn't bother to turn around and look, there was only one person coming through the door.

"Someone looking for directions," he responded.

I let out a breath. Was he really going to try that with me? I spun around and pointed my wooden spoon in his direction shaking it like a mother scolding her child. "At 5 AM? And I suppose he left his map with you?" I saw the paper in his hand. "What is that?" I asked, sending a pointed look to his hand.

He gave a heavy sigh and turned toward the kitchen island. I pushed his mug of hot chocolate towards his hands, and then generously added whipped cream and cinnamon to both mugs.

"So are you going to tell me? Or do I need to drag it out of you?" I prompted. He had to give in sooner or later. He knows how I feel about keeping secrets from loved ones. Especially since I blatantly told him as much the day my little brother was born. I needed to go after Zelena and I argued with him about taking Hook with me.

"He's going with you. You're going with her."

" Mm, I thought you didn't trust me, mate."

"Zelena backed you into a corner. You did the best you could."

" See? Even you're father gets it."

" Yeah, because he knows about keeping secrets from loved ones."

The argument was still so vivid in my mind, I'm sure that people would say that I sounded like a spoiled teenager that day. But that was ok, because I didn't need Hook getting in the way of what I had to do. It turned out that my dad won, hook went with me, and I ended up temporarily losing my magic that day. But that was neither here nor there. I got my point across regardless.

"Are you my daughter or my wife?" I didn't miss the sarcasm. Maybe being a smart ass was an inherited trait. "He was looking for you?" he finally admitted.

"Me? Who the hell is he?" I certainly had no idea who this man was or what on earth he would want so damn early in the morning. "What does he want with me?"

"He refused to tell me." David ran his hand through his hair and rested it on the back of his neck. "I told him that you were not here…"

"And then I came to the door" I interrupted.

"Yeah. I don't know, it was all a little weird. He didn't seem to let on that he thought or knew that I was lying. He gave me this and asked me to give to you when I saw you next. " He handed me the envelope that was in his hand. It was a plain white letter sized envelope with the initials E.S. scribbled on the front.

"Ok, let me get this straight. A strange man knocks on our door at five in the morning. You answer it and he asks for me. To which you tell him that I'm not here. He gives you this envelope to give to me and then goes on his merry way? Yeah. That all sounds a little too farfetched. He didn't tell you his name or anything? Where he was from? Why the hell is was here at 5 AM? Nothing?"

"No, I asked him all of those questions," David responded. "He refused to give me any answers. He just insisted that I take the envelope and give it to you."

"And you took it?" it wasn't a question.

"No actually, I told him no. He dropped it on the ground and left."

I reached for a knife from the drawer to slice open the envelope. I rose an eyebrow to my father "did he question why I called you Dad?" David shook his head as I reached into the envelope and pulled out a piece of notebook paper. Hand written on the paper was a simple note, WE NEED TO TALK, MEET ME AT THE DOCKS AT 8:30. –J.C.

"Oh. Hell no…" I heard my father pant.

"Who the hell is J.C.?" I asked more to myself than David.

"I don't know, and you sure as hell aren't finding out!" he answered.

"Whoa, hold on there, Dad. As the sheriff in this town, I need to investigate this guy. If he needs to talk to me, then he isn't going to leave town without at least having one conversation. "

"He had one conversation."

"Not with you, Dad! You know what I mean."

"No, not happening." David was fervently shaking his head. "You are not talking to this guy until I get some answers. "

"Because he was so willing to answer your questions five minutes ago. No. I will meet him and I'll get the answers." It wasn't a request. I was going to do this, if for no other reason than my interest being peaked.

"No, you are not going down there by yourself. I'm going with you."

"Dad… do you…"

"No arguments. You may be the sheriff, but I'm still your father and I don't trust anybody who comes to my house at five in the morning, with a letter for my daughter that just says meet me at the docks. Nope. No way. Not happening. You are not going alone." I had to smile at his over protective Daddy mode. "Or unarmed!" he said with finality.

David got up and walked to his bedroom before I could say another word; no doubt getting ready to wake my mother and report all that had just happened. I was left at the kitchen island with only my thoughts and a half empty mug of hot chocolate. I ran the man's image over and over in my mind. I was starting to think that there was something familiar about him, but I just couldn't place my finger on it. Who did I know whose name or initials were J.C.? So many people had come in and out of my life in the last thirty years that there was no possible way to remember each and every person that I had ever met or spent time. No, there was only one way to get to the bottom of this mystery. I guess I had a meeting at the docks at 8:30.