Killian Jones entered his captain's cabin of the Jolly Roger and quickly shut the door behind him to block out the noise of the carousing pirates he had just left in the galley. After the obligatory toast of ale in honor of the successful outcome of their minor skirmish against the Lost Ones, he had retreated quickly and quietly to the solitude of his cabin. The captain leaned his head back against the door and inhaled deeply of the salty ocean air wafting in from his open stern windows.
He could hear singing coming from the galley now. The corners of his mouth twitched in amusement, "Yo ho a pirate's life indeed." They were good enough men the lot of them, but their captain could only muster the patience to handle them en masse in small doses. Making his way now to his desk he looked down at the scattered maps and charts as he clumsily undid the buttons of his thick coat with his right hand. With his hook he pushed aside papers catching the glow from a nearby candle causing it to cast a light momentarily across his vision. Hook, the men called him now. Killian sometimes missed his hand and all that two hands could accomplish, but he would never begrudge the hook. It was his constant reminder of the vengeance he sought against THE Crocodile.
Throwing the now discarded coat across the foot of his bed he turned back the desk and pulled the cork out of his hip flask. Drinking deep of the rum, Killian moved the liquid across his tongue, feeling it burn so sweetly down the back of his throat when he finally swallowed the amber fluid. Directing his eyes back towards the desk he mentally went over everything they had discovered since following the trail to Neverland a fortnight ago.
Oh it had been serendipitous indeed to encounter such an inebriated fairy bereft of her lord on a dark and stormy night. Hook smiled at the recollection of the scene at the pub those few weeks ago.
The crew entered into the near empty pub loudly, shaking the rain from their heads.
"Captain sir!" A sheepish, balding little man with smudged, round spectacles scurried from behind the bar towards the visitors.
"Oh captain sir, am I ever so glad to see you this evening!"
"Aye, a jigger of your finest whisky man, for tonight we celebrate!"
Cheers erupted from the pirates surrounding him, "Aye! Argh!"
Wringing his hands together in his apron, the barkeep grinned up at the captain, "Yes! Yes of course sir! And I would be most agreeable to providing that to you with my compliments if you would but help rid me of a tempestuous tiny trollop that plagues me, my fine sir."
Smee scratched at his red stocking cap and asked, "What's a temp-est troll?"
Killian turned his head to frown at the confused look on Smee's face, "Explain to me why I made you me first-mate?" Smee cocked his head to the side and seemed to be wrestling with a thought. "Don't strain yourself sailor," the captain interjected cutting off what would have been a marvelous display of intelligence, "just take the men to a table and get them settled. Yes?"
Killian turned back to the mousy man as heard the crew march towards the back of the establishment. "A trollop you say? I might fancy one of those this evening." Killian's lips curved into a grin, "Come now man, you will keep my thirst satisfied while I tend to the needs of your lady."
"Oh no sir! Do you see the wee flash of green at the end of the bar? Don't stare! That'll be the lady TInkerbelle" Killian looked back to bar-keep with wide eyes, "Yes, that Tinkerbelle. She claims some magical storm cloud carried her off course on her way back to Neverland from some place called London." The mouse of a man rolled his eyes, "It's all a load of rubbish but she's been here two days straight now sir, only coming up for air from her wee glass of spirits to offer services to the patrons. Services sir! She's no bigger than my wee finger," thrusting his pinky finger up into Killian's face, "I don't rightly know what kind of service she can perform being that size sir, but I am a gentleman and don't want her scaring any folks off who is looking to stop in to my establishment for a bit of respite."
The man's face was red and sweaty and it was quite off-putting to the captain, "I will go handle the lady if you will take drinks to my crew." Killian watched as the little man whose name he never bothered to know, bounded off, "And don't forget about my drink either fool."
Turning towards the bar, he walked past the empty stools and stopped at the end to look at the tiny tempest. Her normal green glow, was almost yellow but it indeed was her, THE Tinkerbelle, currently laying unceremoniously across a half-empty shot glass.
"Now love, lean back off that or you will fall in bosom first."
Tinkerbelle propped her head up and opened one bleary eye before coming to rest on the shades of black high above her. He watched as her eyes attempted to focus on his face, her face leaning so far back to take in his height that she fell backwards and landed flat on her backside with a tiny thump.
"Captain Hook…is that you?" she cautiously stammered.
"Aye Miss Belle. I hear you ran into a spot of trouble, tell Captain Hook everything and you will feel all better." The captain roguishly smiled at her to portray his innocent interest in her plight.
"Oh Hook [hiccup] we, I mean Peter and I were in England listening to a story and [hiccup] his shadow came to find him and it was awful!" She lowered a cupped hand into the shot glass and brought it to her mouth, drinking the liquor then wiping her hand down the thigh of her green dress. "The shadow brought urgent news that Rumple [hiccup] Rumplestiltskin had come to Neverland and had declared war on the Lost Boys! "She sobbed into her hands, her fairy wings drooping low.
"The crocodile is in Neverland now!" Thought Killian, joy sweeping across his face. Everytime he had tracked the Dark One, Killian would have just missed him. If Killian was in the Enchanted Forest, the crocodile would have just left for Wonderland, the Land of the Giant's, or some other remote name on a map the captain could never reach in time to catch him. But this…this was his chance.
"We raced back, but Peter was flying too [hiccup] too fast and then that storm came and my wings hurt and I [hiccup] couldn't keep up." She wiped a few stray tears across her swollen face, "and then I was here and I can't find the second star Hook! I can't find my way home." She sniffled before leaning back into the glass to drown her sorrows.
"You are in luck my dear, I happen to have a magic bean and sudden desire to be in Neverland myself." Smiling down at her as she peered up at him expectantly, "If you would care to join me that is, my lady," finishing with a wink of his eye.
"So you would [hiccup] take me with you?" Her wings lifted and began to flutter before going completely still, "Surely you must wish something of me in return. [Hiccup] Do you want me to butter your barnacles, fish for your flounder, turn your tide? This guy yesterday had me flap my wings between his…"
Holding up his good hand to cut her off, "Nothing untoward will be necessary. It will be my humble honor to convey you home love." He flashed her his most charming smile and hid a grin as she stubmled towards his hand resting on the bar.
Turning his head towards his crew in the corner, "Stow those drinks boys we shove off with the tide. We have a crocodile to hunt!" Cheers came from the men as chairs noisily were shoved back and the sound of their boots echoed across the wood floors.
"If you are ready love, I will escort you to my cabins where you will be most comfortable," he held out his hand and she climbed in steadying her small frame against his thumb.
"Perhaps you could carry me in your trouser pocket Captain? It might be safest in there." She looked up at him under shamelessly fluttering eyelashes.
"Oh Miss Belle, you do know how to tickle a man's fancy." He mischievously replied, after all, he had wanted a trollop this evening.
"Captain I will tickle your fancy straight on til morning." She smiled as her mess of blonde hair disappeared below the top of his pants pocket and felt the tell-tale flutter of wings against his stiffening masthead.