Chapter 2: Not Your Pirate Wench Anymore

Outside of The Rabbit Hole, Emma waits for Hook. She glances down at her watch. It's 1:42 p.m. He was a bit late, which would make her late; she'd promised to meet Snow back at the apartment for lunch at 2:30. Just as she let's out a long sigh of frustration, she feels a pair of leather-clad arms wrap her up from behind. She turns stiffly in the embrace.

"Hello, love," Hook not-so-quietly whispers in her ear. He plants a sloppy, wet kiss on unsuspecting lips. The kiss is rather awkward; Emma isn't kissing back. Surely he notices, but brushes it off. Must be her time of the month.

"I thought anytime before 5 p.m. was too early to drink?" he questions smugly.

"Yeah, well, I think we're both going to need a drink, Killian." She wiggles out of the embrace and opens the door. "Let's go get a table."

As they enter the darkened bar, Emma nods over to the bartender indicating they will be taking a table. He acknowledges with a nod back and they move toward a booth in a more private corner of the place.

"You okay, love? You seem tense," he attempts to massage her shoulders; she pulls away.

"I'm okay. But we need to talk."

"I can see I bloody well won't like where this is going."

Regina walks down Main Street. She makes her way into the local hardware store. The light bulbs in her bathroom vanity had blown out and sure, she could ask Emma to pick up some replacements on her way over tonight, but she needed the air. Needed the distraction. She looks down at her watch. It's just after 2 p.m. Right about now, the blonde would be ending her little fling with 'CRAPtain Hook,' as she'd dubbed him. She wonders if Emma had actually told him yet. What did she tell him? Did she crush his little heart? She should, for all the disgusting innuendos thrown her way and the painfully irresponsible way he behaved around their son. She wonders how he's taking the news?

She turns into the aisle where light bulbs are housed and takes the old one out of her pocket to compare specifications. When she finds what she's looking for, she grabs a few off the shelf and heads toward the check-out.

As she turns, she bumps into a strong figure.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I - "

"Regina," Robin acknowledges.

"Oh. Robin, hello."

There is an awkward moment, but the woman breaks the ice first, "How are you? How is Roland?"

"We're just grand. It's been wonderful having Marian back. Roland is the happiest little boy you'd ever see."

"Well, that's great. I'm glad for him," she smiles politely and walks away but turns back when she hears Robin call after her.

"You know Regina, I know you are heartbroken but hang in there," he pats her on the shoulder patronizingly.

She stands there, mouth slightly agape, a purely indignant look dances across her face. 'What the actual fuck?' (That was definitely the Emma Swan in her.)

"Excuse me?" she questions.

"Oh, yes. You know the heart - it's got an incredible way of mending from old wounds. Very resilient actually - "

"Don't you dare begin to lecture me about hearts," in full Evil Queen mode now, "you presumptuous tree-hugging troll! Just so you are aware, you never - NEVER - had my heart. And for your information I've already moved on and for what it's worth, this would never have worked. I was just desperate for a second chance and you happened to be there. Thank God the universe saw fit to shut that down quickly because I have no idea what I could have been thinking. I should have never listened to that damn fairy! You were a waste of my precious little time," she starts to storm off but turns back. "I'm still trying to wash the dead leaves and scent of forest off my heart!"

And just like that, she leaves in a huff, light bulbs in tow, Robin's ego on the floor next to his jaw.

She didn't pay for the bulbs. That's definitely going on her tab.

Back at the bar, Killian is hunched over the table nursing the small bit of rum left in his glass. Emma's frustration is visible as she buries her face in her palm and shakes her head slowly.

"Look, Killian, it's not that you're a terrible person. You just don't have the best behavior. But that has nothing to do with what I said before. The reason we are breaking up is that I don't love you. I know I lead you on. I shouldn't have done that.

The captain mumbles his sentiments, "You're not a nice person."

"These last few weeks I've been royally fucking up."

"Damn right! I gave up my ship. You owe me!" he tries to stand up too quickly but falls back into the booth.

"See that? Do you see! That's exactly what I'm talking about. I don't owe you anything just because you bought me the proverbial dinner. I am not some prize to be won! You have absolutely no respect. You have a lot to learn, Captain Hook, about how to treat women with respect. I am not your pirate wench anymore."

And just like that, she grabs her coat and storms off, leaving him with nothing but hurt feelings and an almost empty glass of rum, which he desperately clings to.

Snow and David are sitting with Henry in the kitchen when Emma comes bursting into the apartment. When she realizes everyone is right there staring at her, she calms her demeanor.

"Hey guys," all clearly wondering what's going on, the just wave. "Hey uh, Henry, why don't you take a walk over to your mom's. I think she could use the company right now."

"Okay," Henry agrees, "but are you okay?"

"Yeah, kid. I just had an exhausting afternoon is all."

The boy nods then gets up to grab his coat and leaves the grown-ups to talk.

Snow pipes up, "So, where is Killian? Will he be joining us for lunch?" David's face lights up like when you tell a kid they're having pizza for dinner.

"Do you guys really like him that much? Like you truly believe he's the best you daughter can do?"

David offers his daughter his seat. "Emma, honey, we just want you to be happy. Maybe he's a little rough around the edges," he looks to Snow to confirm that that's the correct phrasing; she nods, "but I guess we figured since he seems to love you so much, maybe he could change for the better."

"So you just want me to be happy? No matter who it's with?"

The young parents look at each other nervously. They kind of know where this is going, but they had hoped their suspicions were just that. So they brace themselves.

"Of course, Emma. We'll love and support you no matter who you love," Snow attempts an assuring smile but it comes off more pitying and almost fearful.

"It's just - I know he says he loves me, but I don't feel that way. I feel like we'd be better as friends. We're almost like bros, you know?" David nods his head fervently at this. "There's no uh - " she searches for the right word, "no magic."

"Ah," they both echo when she finally puts it into terms they can understand.

"Gotcha," Snow nods. "I mean everyone knows that true love is magic. You know, Regina taught me all about true love when - "

Emma immediately puts an end to that rant. It could go on all day. "Yes mom - we know, we know."

A thought creeps into Snow's imagination and she says (more to herself than to Emma), "Regina also taught you about - magic - didn't she?"

Those sparkling green puppy eyes look up to her mother, searching for acceptance. Mother looks back at daughter with trepidation in her eyes, but at the same time with love and understanding. Everything falls into place now. Suspicion becomes fact. Inkling becomes revelation.

"Oh, honey, it's okay. Actually we've suspected for some time."

The blonde looks back and forth between her parents, "What? How did - When did you know?" She's got a few tears rolling down her cheek. It's a huge weight off her chest to be able to share this with her family, considering their history with her son's other mom.

Her mom offers a gentle smile, "You're seriously going to pretend everyone doesn't see the yearning looks and doey eyes?"

"I yearn?"

"Yeah," Snow says. "Yeah, you do."

Emma takes a very deep breath and exhales an obnoxiously loud sigh before wiping away leftover tears. "So... what's for lunch?"

To Be Continued...

btw... Credit for 'CRAPtain Hook' does not belong to me. I saw someone coin the term on Tumblr and I thought it very fitting. So whomever that was, credit is yours.