Long over due update on this fic. Finally setting aside some time to write so i can just ignore my life. I look forward to writing more now that im figuring some things out.


Emma kicked the door to her apartment close with a groan. Her muscles ached right down to the bone as she set her bag down on the counter top cluttered with half unpacked boxes. Leaning against the counter top, she toed off the ankle breaking high heels-she knew she should have opted for more sensitive foot wear but the perp had gone for one of Boston's swankiest restaurants and her boots wouldn't have cut it. Sighing, Emma moved to the living room, placing the parcel she had kept tucked under her arm on the table.

Brushing back a loose curl behind her ear, Emma lifted the lid, taking the cupcake and taking it back with her to the kitchen. It took some digging to find the lone candle Emma used for this day.

Her birthday.

She didn't have any family, no friends. Emma had learned a long time ago-repeatedly-that she was better off alone.

Even if her heart didn't agree with her.

She lit the candle, closed her eyes, and made her wish.

There was a knock on the door a heartbeat later.

.

.

.

Killian paused in his warehouse, located at the docks of Storybrooke, a chill running down his spine. There was a tingling in the very air, shifting the very atmosphere.

A manic giggle came from behind him, he didn't need to look to see that the Crocodile had appeared.

"She's arrived," the demon teased.

Killian glared back the imp, reaching for the silver flask from the pocket of his black dark wash jeans to take a long swig. Alcohol dulled the annoyance he felt when the creature made his random-and inconvient-appearances.

"What the devil are you going about now," he growled.

"Why, Snow White's and Prince Charming's daughter, but of course," Rumpelstiltskin declared, moving his hands in a flourish as he made his way across the spacious room. "Come to break the Evil Queen's curse-not that she knows it."

Killian rolled his eyes. "And what do I care? Let her."

"Ah-ah-ha," the former dark one tsked. "You, Captain, made a deal. The queen made her bargain that should the Savior make her way to break the curse that you would do all you could to stop her."

Killian rolled his eyes. "I hardly care," he took another swig of his rum, relishing the sting of the drink. "Besides there's no magic in this land, my powers are limited."

Rumpelstiltskin gave a snort. "There is much still within your power, dear Captain. Your dashing good looks for one."

Killian fought the urge to laugh. He set his flask upon his desk, turning to face the phantom. "So you are saying I use my masculine wiles on the lost princess? How novel."

"You made the deal, and Dark Ones don't break deals."

"No, we simply find a unique way around them and screwing the other participant in the ass," Killian growled.

"The inn keeper simply got what he asked for," the imp said flippantly.

"Aye," Killian replied darkly. "They always do."

"Face the facts pirate, you made a deal with the queen and you need to fulfill it. If you hurry now, you'll bump right into the savior," the imp grinned, flashing yellowed teeth.

Killian shot the specter a glare before reaching out to pull his heavy coat over his black button down shirt.

"Piss off," he growled before turning on the heel of his boot and exiting the warehouse.

.

.

.

The kid was something else. Henry Mills. Ten years old with dark eyes and a grin that mirrored someone that Emma's heart still ached for. When she'd opened that door, she'd felt eighteen again, terrified to even look at the baby she'd just spent several painstaking hours to bring into the world. The pain came rushing back.

He kinda has my smile, Emma found herself thinking.

No. No, nope. This wasn't going to happen. She wasn't going to stand there and piece together which bits of this boy in front of hers' and what were Neal's or some parents she never even got to know because they abandoned her in the middle of nowhere.

Emma knew what she had to do-she had to get this kid home ASAP.

And that resulted in a road trip from Boston, Massachusetts to a place called Storybrooke in Maine.

The kid had an imagination to boot. Saying fairy tales weren't just stories, how she was in a book. It was crazy.

Emma was relieved when they passed the welcome sign and the town came into in view. Sighing in relief that the whole thing was almost over she glanced towards the boy next to her and asked for an address.

"44 Not Telling You Street," was his cheeky reply.

That did it. Throwing the car into park, Emma exited her yellow bug, slamming the door hard as the powerline above her head shot sparks, the wind whipping her blonde curls around her like dancing serpents."Enough," she said as she folded her arms across her red leather clad chest. "I'm not goin- "

"Everything all right here, young Mr. Mills?" came a smooth voice, an accent curving the words.

Emma turned to see a handsome man making his way towards them. Clad head to toe in black, his dark hair was in disorder as the wind blew. Piercing blue eyes glanced from her to Henry, Emma felt stripped bare by his penetrating gaze as a smile curved across his full lips.

"Everything's fine, Mr. Jones," Henry said, as he drew closer to Emma.

"Aye, and who might this striking young lass be?" the stranger-Mr. Jones apparently-inquired.

"My real mom."

"Emma Swan."

The two replied in unison, drawing a chuckle from the man. "How . . . interesting."

Emma gave Henry an exasperated look before turning back to Mr. Jones. "Mind telling me where this kid's parents live?"

Mr. Jones paid her a disarming smile as he took a lazy step forward. "It'd be my pleasure, Swan. His mother, our delightful mayor, lives just up there. Big manor, can't be missed."

Emma's eye brows shot up, as she stared down at Henry in disbelief. "You're the mayors' kid?"

Henry just pouted as he started kicking at the fallen leaves.

"Thanks for your help, Mr. Jones, it's time I got this kid home."

Mr. Jones nodded. "Yes, of course, give your mother my best, Henry." He turned his glacial eyes on Emma, holding her gaze. "And I do hope to run into you again soon, Swan."

Emma just nodded, her tongue unwilling to function. Mr. Jones continued past them, his eyes appraising Emma one last time before disappearing around the corner.

That wasn't weird or anything, Emma thought as she watched him leave.

"Whose he in your book? The Goblin King?" She asked.

"I don't know," Henry answered. "But I don't think he's a good guy."

You and me both kid.


Well there it is first meeting. First time in storybrooke. I saw a gifset that was pretty much what this fic is-DO Hook and Emma. Which really got me excited to update. Hope you all enjoy it! Please review :)