The brisk autumn winds were steadily picking up speed, forcing the exhausted fisherman to abandon their efforts until the next morning. Dusk was approaching and the sky was straying from its usual golden/pink color to an ominous deep purple. Indeed there was a storm approaching and the weary crew awaited word from their captain, secretly hoping that for once he would grant them a restful night's sleep in the warmth of their own beds.

"Oi, let's turn 'er around boys! She won't do us any good if she capsizes. The fish'll still bite tomorrow," yelled their captain, his thick Irish accent roaring over the wind. His eyes searched the open ocean, silently contemplating if karma was to blame for this intense thunderstorm's approach. He wouldn't consider himself a bad man but he certainly had his more ... questionable moments.

Sighing with relief, the crew hoisted the sails and headed back towards shore. Although they would stand by their captain through the most inclement of weather, they were pleased to have gotten out this one with a freebie. In typical fisherman fashion, they all prepared for a nightcap (or three) before parting ways for respective bedrooms.

It was a slow night at Marooner's Rock, the local watering hole, and the sinister skies were definitely to blame. It wasn't the most luxurious place in town but it was certainly a popular joint. Angelica, the bar's owner, was most likely the only soul to inhabit the tavern for the evening.

She was an often outspoken but genuinely sweet widow in her mid-fifties. Her husband, a sailor, was claimed by the sea many years ago during a treacherous storm. After his passing, she bought his favorite pub and has continued to run it in his memory. It's become a mainstay for locals of all backgrounds and often the busiest place in Storybrooke on the weekends.

The oncoming storm still held her attention, unwelcome memories flooding her mind. Her train-of-thought was derailed by incoming chatter from some of her favorite (and notoriously rowdy) customers.

"Ah, Killian! The fearsome crew! What a sight for sore eyes!" beamed Angelica, glad to have some unexpected company.

"Angelica, the light of my life, you flatter us so! We are in desperate need of some drinks, mi lady! Make 'em doubles, it's been a hell of a day," smirked Killian, his sing-songy voice carrying throughout the nearly empty tavern.

He had always shared a bond with the widow, his own family meeting a similar fate as her husband. She was like a mother of sorts, always chiding him for his wrong-doings and giving advice when she could tell he needed it most. He respected her unconditionally and even helped her pay her rent when money was tight.

Just as the boys were settling in at the bar, the door swung open and a gust of wind whipped around them. Frantically, a petite figure slammed against the door to close it and sighed, her breathing rapid. She was soaked to the bone and her hood covered her entire face.

"Gods, Sarah, are you crazy?! I left you a message saying not to come in tonight! This storm is going to be a bad one; I may even close early," scolded Angelica, receiving a few "boos" from the men surrounding her. The young woman rolled her eyes and walked over to counter, the crew's eyes glued to her back.

"Angie, relax. I'm not going to just leave you here to fend for yourself. I thought you knew me better than that," the young woman frowned, raising her eyebrow to suggest that she was slightly insulted.

The older woman just sighed and pulled Sarah into a hug. "You're a sweetheart, I appreciate that. Especially when I have this pirate crew on my hands ..." Angelica laughed, earning a "here here!" from the fishermen.

Sarah laughed and poured herself a shot from the bar. Setting down her glass , the burn from the warm amber liquor easing it's way down her throat, she noticed her audience and choked slightly. Embarrassed by all of the attention, she swallowed hard and regained her composure.

"'Ello boys! Name's Sarah, I'm Angie's neighbor AND part-time bartender. Although tonight it appears that I'll just be drinking myself into a stupor ..." she joked, her slight British accent earning a grin from most of the men in front of her. She surveyed her audience, one man in particular catching her interest. Just as she concentrated on his form, he began to approach the bar.

"Killian Jones, love, and this be my crew of mangy pirates. Pleasure to meet a fellow drink enthusiast- and such a charming one at that," Killian smiled, his eyes lingering on the girl in front of him.

For some reason he just could not take his eyes off of this woman. She was dressed in tight black pants, motorcycle boots, and a light brown leather jacket. Her hair was long and slightly wavy; a rich chestnut color with natural auburn highlights. Her lips were full and a soft pink color, slightly chapped from the wind. The most enthralling of all were her big, beautiful eyes. They were the color of the caribbean ocean; a light blue/green lined with a darker azure. She flashed him a coy smile, her eyes cast downwards. Something about her seemed familiar; he could count on one hand the amount of women that had literally left him gawking.

*Check my profile for Sarah's outfit*

Well into the evening, everyone seemed to settle in for a night of laughs and storytelling. Sarah was in the midst of (what appeared to be) an enthralling, raunchy anecdote that had his boys reeling. Noticing their enthusiasm, he decided pull up a closer seat and step outside of his own thoughts to listen.

"And then," she laughed, "he said," this time she was having a hard time continuing. Killian mentally noted that he would literally kill a man just to hear the sweet sound of her laughter. It was the most euphoric sound he had ever heard, quickly replacing the pleasure sounds that escape most of his one-night "adventures." Naturally, one thought led to another and his mind gravitated towards the idea of Sarah moaning underneath him. He wondered how melodic she must sound, making him mentally slap himself for missing her punch-line.

His men were all laughing uncontrollably until one spoke up.

"Ay Miss Sarah, you have such a way with words. We need you around more often! Cap'n over here could use some humor in his life. Always so serious ..." he chuckled.

Sarah pouted her lips slightly and turned to face Killian. He could have sworn his heart leapt out of his chest. He quickly remembered himself and put on his best "captain" face.

"Is this true, Cap'n Killian? What makes you so solemn?" She looked up at him from under her long lashes, a smile playing at her lips. She leaned on her elbows, inching closer to his face. "Have you misplaced your funny bone?"

Killian chuckled, slightly turned on by her proximity. He could smell her now- whiskey on her breath and subtle citrus notes from her freshly washed mane. He grinned and turned on his ever-famous Killian charm.

"Oh no, my dear. I've just never gotten the great pleasure of laying my eyes on the likes of your beauty," he winked, his perfectly cocky smirk in place.

"AYE!" cheered the crew, causing Sarah to blush slightly. She was used to the occasional drunk compliment from patrons but to hear a group of men cheer so genuinely was certainly enough to put her off-kilter.

"Ohh, you lot are too kind. Well, now that you know where to find me, I best be seeing you more often!" she smiled, silently cursing herself for not knowing how to accept a compliment. Killian noticed her blush and decided to play it out further. Her rosy cheeks made something in his heart stir and he decided that he'd like to see her squirm once more before he departed for the evening.

"Well now, I don't think we could stand to stay far from such a beauty for more than a moment. You truly are a sight to behold, darling."

His cheeky side was really starting to come alive, numerous pints easing him into his carefree attitude. He was feeling bolder. He'd never had a problem spewing sweet nothings in the ears of random women but something about Sarah made him feel almost ... nervous. Of course he would never say that out loud, he was Killian Jones after all. Women swooned whenever he entered the room, never the other way around.

Sarah giggled at the incredibly drawn out compliments and poured herself another drink. She knew this stranger was trying to get under her skin and she'd be damned if she gave him the satisfaction so easily.

"Oh my captain, I bet you say that to all of the ladies you encounter. Especially as you whisk them away to your bedroom ..." She smiled and looked at him seductively. She wasn't usually this cheeky with someone she had just met but she felt oddly compelled to bat her lashes at him.

There was no denying the fact that he was quite possibly the most handsome man she had ever met, but her absence from the dating world certainly didn't help her judgement. She had a few men try to court her over the years but she found most of them dull and quickly lost interest. There was always something missing but she could never put her finger on it. Either way, this Killian guy held her attention in a way that she hadn't experienced in a very long time.

Snapping out of her self-mediated debate, she noticed Killian perusing the tavern, chatting with his mates and singing old sailor songs. It was then that she took the time to really look at him. He had flawless cheekbones, lightly dusted with freckles from prolonged sun exposure. His scruff was adequately maintained yet she could tell that he didn't primp in the mirror much. His eyes were a stormy blue and she couldn't help but laugh at how fitting that description was. His lips were full, sultry, and just begging to be tasted. She couldn't help but imagine how soft they would feel pressed against hers, as well as some of her most private of areas. Realizing she was starting to bite her lip, she decided to move on before her thoughts got too "involved." He was wearing a simple blue peacoat, tighter-fitting black pants, and a pair of motorcycle boots. Something about his attire and demeanor was intoxicating and gave her a feeling of reminiscence.

After a few more rounds of beer, the crew decided to call it a night. Killian rounded up his mates and one-by-one they headed for the door. Before he left, he turned on his heels to face Sarah.

"G'night, Miss Sarah. It was quite a pleasure to meet you and I do hope that I'll see you around more often." Killian licked his lips and winked, leaving Sarah to gawk after him.

She loved the way her name spilled out of his mouth like soft velvet. She had it bad for him already and they'd only known each other a few hours. Chalking it up to her lack of bedroom action, she sighed and turned off the bar's "open" sign.

"I'm never going to be able to sleep tonight ..." she thought as she grabbed her coat and locked the door behind her.