A Place to Hide - Chapter Two: Moment of Impact

Word Count: 2,795

Rating: T

Killian Jones had been thinking a lot lately about the sky, and wished he could feel it on his skin the way his ship's white sails seemed to. It filled them up and completed what they were, helped them be more than the flimsy fabric that made them up.

Forced action, forced change – made them real.

And Lieutenant Killian Jones wanted nothing more than to feel real.

He was jolted from his dazed staring contest with the steady, faraway waves by a strong hand on his shoulder. It was his brother, Liam. Always a steady presence beside him, Killian admired him, even though they didn't always see eye to eye. Liam had captained their vessel to back safety just that morning, home from a dangerous expedition on the high seas, and the crew suggested an early visit to the local tavern to celebrate the fine achievements of their voyage.

Killian had arrived late to the festivities, having been given the unfortunate duty of transporting the foreign prisoners who they'd captured during their journey, to the royal dungeons. And despite his utter exhaustion after they'd docked, Killian took on the responsibility. One thing that came along with the respected title of Naval Lieutenant was following his captain's orders, even if the captain happened to be his older brother.

Killian had had an entire life of following orders, so he was used to it, even if they were bloody pirates.

Still, even after he'd arrived, Killian hung back from the crowd. Proud of his brother's success but preferring a table by the open window, Killian sat in a thoughtful silence until beckoned by Liam.

"Come brother," he summoned, looking down on him in a teasing jest. "Let's drink that gloomy look off your face. You've earned it, Lieutenant."

Killian forced a half-hearted smile to his lips and raised his pint in cheers, "All in good time, brother."

Liam's expression was full of doubt, and Killian regretted the pity he saw in it too.

"I know you prefer life on the open sea, Killian, but you must remember that this land is our home," Liam said, his voice unwavering and earnest. Killian was surprised by his brother's insight, and he stared up at him in contemplation. But then Liam continued, his eyes falling on the gaggle of young girls that sat giggling in the shadowy corner, "We must take advantage of all the mainland has to offer." He raised his ale at the same time as his suggestive eyebrows, blue irises twinkling as he backed away from his brother.

"I'll catch up with you," Killian tried best to match Liam's playful tone, while slightly embarrassed by the way he seemed to command the now swooning group of females. Liam always had that sort of ease about him. Loved being in control – over him, over their crew, over women – and Killian never resented him for it. Without Liam, the two brothers would hardly be members of the Royal Navy, for Liam built them both up from nothing. Saving them from their father's abandonment, and sacrificing a normal life for his brother, Liam was Killian's hero.

But every now and then, he wondered if this life, if he, was a product of himself or what Liam had chosen for them both. He didn't know if he was real. Killian only knew that when he was out on the water, in the middle of the ocean with no land in sight, his future felt full of possibility.

He felt limitless. He felt the magical pull of the sky on the sails. Out there, he didn't care about being real, because out there he was impossible.

But on dry land he felt a tug back to the water, like his feet weren't anchored along with the ship, his veins feeling the ebb and flow of the constant tides. He wished he could hide out on ocean, float and fall on its waves, and live forever.

Killian shook the thoughts out of his mind and took a long gulp of his pint. He was being wistful again, disconnecting from the world. He stared out the window, watching the people outside. People walking, working, living. It was a beautiful day, and it should be enjoyed.

Gathering his wits, Killian turned from the window and rose from his solitary table, making a move to join his fellow shipmates at the bar. After just two steps across the squeaky wooden floor, Killian's eye was drawn backwards to a bright green flash that came from outside. It illuminated the entire tavern for a quick moment, lost to those too lost in their drinks to notice. Killian and a few other men started toward the door at the sound of distance gasps from the cobblestoned street.

The bell jingled sharply above the door as they exited fast, Killian's head scanning the crowd, and his ears picked up the sound of running footsteps from his left. He turned a second before the moment of impact.

His body was met with a rough blow, small hands reaching out to grab purchase on his shoulders. Killian's immediately cradled her, one 'round her back and the other at the back of her head, knowing they were going down. All he saw was a blur of blonde hair before the momentum brought them both tumbling to the ground. A small feminine shriek sounded before he was on top of her. Her.

Killian couldn't take his eyes off of her face. His hip ached, having absorbed most of their fall, but it didn't matter. Blonde hair fanned out underneath the hand that was still cradling her head, soft on his rough fingers as they unconsciously stroked her. Wet curls stuck to the side of her pale skin, its intoxicating scent filling his senses. Lips parted, it looked as if she'd lost her breath with the fall, her eyes wide as she looked up at him.

She shifted against him and he took note of their compromising position as well as their growing audience. She felt so perfect, so right, so tight against his body. It had been only a few seconds of contact, but it was as if his heart stopped ebbing - fell right into place and swelled at the feeling. Her beauty was of an odd, intriguing nature and Killian had never seen anything like her. This brought the most genuine smile to Killian's face, and his breath got quicker, his heartbeat stronger.

"Well you're quite real, aren't you?" The first words out of his mouth came in a rush.

Her sea green eyes lit with an alluring smile that didn't quite reach the rest of her face. Killian watched as she examined him, eyes darting around to each part of him like she was seeing someone else for the very first time. The rising sun above them cast beams over his head and the mysterious woman squinted to shield her eyes from the bright rays. Her head swiveled in his hand to take in the scene around them, members of his crew looking on in confusion, some patting themselves on each other's backs and snickering at Killian's "catch," and Killian had the urge to pull her all the closer. Even her puzzled, calculating expression was beautiful as her blonde eyebrows narrowed in perplexity and Killian wished to lift his other hand in order to smooth the harsh lines on her skin. But he resisted.

He started to open his mouth to set her mind at ease when all of a sudden the woman's confusion turned to resilience as her eyes became determined and her small hands made fists in the lapels of his jacket. For just a moment Killian thought she might lift herself up to kiss him, and he focused on her mouth with a strange pang of desire he'd never experienced. What he wasn't expecting was a swift knee to the groin, and he doubled over to the ground as she threw him off of her.

Through a deep groan of pain, Killian wheezed, "Wait! Come back," and a few crewmen rushed to help him to his feet.

She had made it a ways down the narrow street, but still turned her head to grant him a final grin before rounding a corner. His heart soared at the sight of her smile, like it had caught wind and he could sail right back to her. He couldn't help but laugh at the feeling, air rushing from his lungs as he watched her go.

"I will find you!" He declared, his words ringing out for everyone to hear. The last thing he saw was a flash of blonde as her ponytail bounced behind her, and she was gone.

Several hours later, when the coast was clear of officers, Emma found herself back at the village's stone docks. The sun was setting over the clear blue water and Emma's mind raced with unanswered questions. Where was she? She quickly realized earlier, much to her astonishment, that this was not the year 2000, let alone anywhere near the United States of America. At first she thought she'd been sent back to some form of colonial England, for the quaint little village reminded her of something out of a history text book. But many things just didn't add up.

She struggled with knowing exactly what to feel. She felt lonely, and once again isolated like she was back home, but each time those feelings surfaced Emma couldn't get the image of her officer out of her head. Her officer? Emma was rattled by these unconscious emotions of attachment.

Maybe it was because he'd just chosen the right words – a sucker punch to her vulnerable heart – but Emma couldn't shake him. Perhaps that was why she found herself back here. Emma wanted to recapture that intense moment of impact, before she once again found herself falling – to remember the sheer comfort of closeness before she remembered she was alone. With a heavy sigh she watched the sun's last light twinkle on the shimmering ocean, and shivered at the cool winds that beckoned forward the night.

Suddenly, a voice came from behind and she straightened her spine in alertness. "I could have you arrested, you know."

She knew who it was instantly, his reprimanding but playful tone causing her skin to buzz with excitement. Emma hesitated with her reply, turning her head slowly as she looked up at him from just under her long eyelashes, legs ready to pounce.

"Assaulting an officer of the King's Navy comes with some pretty dire consequences, nowadays," he continued lazily, approaching her section of the short stone wall and resting his elbows on it beside her. He kept his gaze on the horizon as she looked at him to gage his seriousness.

After a moment of silence between them, he looked at Emma and smiled as her calculating expression turned to one of confident calmness.

"Perhaps. But you won't do it," Emma stated, turning back toward the water.

He let out a short laugh before asking, "And why would you think that?"

Emma grasped at straws to try and manipulate her handsome officer. Go for the pride, she thought, that always gets them.

"Because then you'd have to admit that a little girl like me was able to injure a strapping young solider such as yourself." Her voice went down an octave in order to reinforce his need to protect his obviously threatened masculinity.

He infuriated her again by simply chuckling and she snuck a glance at him. The look on his face was anything but proud.

"I'd hardly classify you as a little girl," he said firstly, and Emma's cheeks tingled with pink. "And are you kidding me? I don't think I'll quite be able to have children anymore." Emma was growing very fond of his accent, despite his annoying ability to evade her manipulations.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage somehow," Emma replied shortly, trying not to smile.

"Well, perhaps after some hard work and lots of practice," he suggested, teasingly. Emma blushed again and decided she was losing this battle. Emma hated to lose.

Swinging her legs over the wall and jumping down in front of the man, Emma closed in on him instantly. "Then we should get started right away," she put on her most seductive tone and brought her fingers up to skim over the breast of his blue waist coat.

She watched his face go beet red with embarrassment and smirked, forcing him to stumble backwards with her advancement. But after just a second, he'd gathered his wits. Grabbing her hand in his and pinning her with a serious stare, he stopped her in her tracks.

"Who are you?" he demanded, eyes serious. He ran his thumb over her knuckles gently, tone desperate. "Where are you from?"

She wrenched her fingers from his grip and stepped back in discomfort, trying to shake off his growing concern.

"Emma," she said, averting her gaze as her voice became small and harsh, "and I'm not from anywhere."

She expected him to back off, for Emma was usually good at scaring men away. But he stood his ground.

"Well, Emma, do you have anywhere to stay tonight?" He asked.

Emma couldn't help herself. With a mocking gasp she exclaimed, "That's rather forward of you Captain. Wouldn't your crew disapprove?"

But he knew her game by this point.

"It's Killian, actually. Killian Jones. And I'm hardly a captain."

"Oh. Well, it's nice to meet you Killian, but I do better on my own." Emma mustered all the energy she had within her to turn away from him, battling with the strong tug of her rapid heartbeat.

He followed her retreat, back peddling as she tried to escape him so that he could continue watching her beautiful face.

"Well that's perfect, because I have a place you can have all to yourself. It'll be just for tonight, but you'll be off the streets at least."

Emma had never before met a more genuine person in all her days in the system. Someone wanted to help…her? A dangerous feeling of vulnerability started brewing deep within her chest, and it annoyed her.

"How do you know I'm on the streets?" She snapped, chin held high in the air.

Killian halted mid step, causing Emma to almost run into him once more. His features were somber.

"Because I know an orphan when I see one."

Emma's guarded eyes went wide and she hastily searched his face for pity. The one thing she hated most when people found out her secret was the hideously gushing sympathy that they stuffed down her throat. No one knew what it was like, being alone, and Emma despised the thought that people then felt she was no longer worthy of normal conversation.

Killian however, was not at all weighted down by this knowledge of her. His expression was open and caring, simply waiting for her to admit his correctness. Emma felt her own shoulders suddenly lifted of weight and she couldn't quite explain why. She started babbling.

"I'm almost eighteen, you know, so technically I'm not an orphan anymore. I'm Emma – just Emma. And I don't need anyone to take care of me."

"I know," he said earnestly, cutting her off. "But I want to."

Emma, unsure, glanced back over her shoulder just to catch the last speck of sunlight as it fell below the faraway horizon, cloaking them in complete darkness with not a street lamp in sight.

"Oh so now you're going to be a gentleman?" She asked, gesturing teasingly in an attempt to ease the serious tension. "Just a few hours ago you were manhandling me on the street over there."

He grinned at the sight of her stubbornness waning. "Love, if I were man handling you, you'd know it." Killian took her hand and brought it to his lips, but before kissing it, continued, "And I'm always a gentleman."

His soft lips brushed her knuckles, his eyes trained on hers the entire time. Emma's feet felt like cement blocks in the leather boots she wore. He released her hand slowly, but Emma stood entranced.

She faked a sigh and an exasperated tone in order to mask her complete breathlessness.

"Well, aren't you going to lead the way, Captain?" Emma's hands gesturing forward, starting again in the direction she'd tried to escape.

Killian let her get just a few paces in front before she felt his hand grab hers once more. She was beginning to safer from just his touch, his laughter and one simple sentence as her steered her in the opposite direction.

"As you wish."

R&R xoxo