Chapter 1 – welcome to storybrooke

Emma wakes to an all too familiar setting. Steel bars, stone walls, grey ceiling. Her body tenses, her heart seizes, until she realizes she's not in her old jail cell. What the hell happened last night? she wonders as she takes in her surroundings. There was a wolf in the road, the Storybrooke sign and then...

"Rise and shine, princess," a snarky voice says near her.

Emma rolls over on the thin cot and places both her feet on the floor. She looks over at the woman in the next cell who is eyeing her through heavy smudged makeup and snapping her gum loudly. Emma might have called her pretty if she didn't have such a miserable expression on her face.

"Are you alright, love?"

Emma's head snaps toward the cell doors. She expects to see the town sheriff – slash, mayor's lackey – but instead, she is greeted by the bluest set of eyes she's ever seen. Her stomach swoops unexpectedly and she tries to say something, anything, really but all that comes out is an embarrassing uuhhh sound.

"What am I saying?" the man looks down and shakes his head. "Of course you've had a rough night."

"Umm…" he continues, biting his lower lip as he pries open a cardboard box resting in the crook of his left elbow. "Pop-Tart?" he says as he tilts the open box towards her.

Emma does not believe in stars aligning or fairytale endings – but, seriously, Pop-Tarts? She leans forward and eyes them. They are frosted blueberry, her favorite. "I love you."

She barely recognizes that she has spoken out loud until she sees him straighten and stare at her intently. Emma freezes – she knows people say things like love flippantly all the time – but she's not one of those people. It is like her subconscious has betrayed her. Over Pop-Tarts. She should wave her words off but she can't. She has been pulled into the deepness of his eyes, caught in his stormy gaze, on the brink of drowning. Until she hears the woman in the neighboring cell snap, "Killian, don't feed the squirrels."

Emma shakes her head. Emma Swan does not swoon over men, no matter how handsome they are. She doesn't even know where these stupid metaphors in her head are popping in from but they need to stop.

"No need to be rude, Lacey," Killian is saying. The woman merely snorts. "And I feed you." As if to prove it, he reaches into the box and tosses her a Pop-Tart. It sails through two sets of bars to land perfectly on the cot, right in front of this Lacey woman.

Emma can't help but blink in surprise. "That's quite a throw," she murmurs.

Killian chuffs quietly and looks down. "Lots of practice," he offers humbly. "Here," he says without looking up, digging into the box again to pull out a foiled Pop-Tart for her.

Emma wonders at the blush sweeping his cheeks as he scratches behind his ear. He seems to be one part shy, two parts intense. It's probably a good thing they aren't awkwardly staring at each other still.

"Thanks," she says as she reaches out to claim her prize. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until he offered her the Pop-Tarts. She never had dinner last night. She didn't even have time to enjoy her cupcake when Henry knocked on her door.

As though reading her mind, Killian says, "So, you are Henry's mother?"

"Huh?" she says around a mouthful of Pop-Tart.

He kindly ignores her inelegance and continues as though she had responded with some dignity. "How lovely it is for him to have you back in his life, love."

"Actually I was just dropping him off. And it's Emma, Emma Swan. Not love."

"Ah, a tough lass," he replies with admiration before averting his gaze again. "He pauses for a moment, licking his lip. Emma finds herself following his tongue as it traces his lower lip and she almost misses his next comment. "Henry's a special boy. I think you would like him very much if you stayed."

"Look…" She begins but decides she doesn't need to explain herself to a stranger. "Do you work at the sheriff station? Think you could let me out?"

Killian looks extremely apologetic when he shakes his head. "Sorry, I'm just here to pick up Lacey but Graham should be here any minute now." He pushes the sleeve back on his left arm to look down at his watch. His movement causes her to look down and she notices that his left hand is a prosthetic.

She looks up to see that she's been caught staring. "Sorry…I…" she begins when she sees him blush again and pull his left arm behind his body. "Hey–"

"He's usually in by eight-fifteen," he says too fast.

As if Graham had been waiting to make the perfect entrance, he walks in. "Lacey, if I'm going to let you out, you're going to have to behave. Put on a smile."

Lacey gives Graham a wide insincere smile as she leaves. She reaches for Killian's fake hand behind his back and pulls him with her. "C'mon, you're going to buy me a coffee."

Killian twists around to look at Emma once more. Before Lacey pulls him around the corner, his piercing blue eyes find hers and he calls to her, "Welcome to Storybrooke, Swan."

*Title from J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan.

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything or make any profit from this work. Characters and some dialogue from the show.

*** And oh yeah, I'm going to address why he's still Killian Jones even when cursed.