Hook had nearly hauled Emma out of Granny's half naked. She was still pulling on her jacket as they reached the Bug and paused to zip up her boots.
He was practically jumping up and down with impatience. "Come ON, Swan, come on, now, we haven't got all bloody day!"
She rolled her eyes at him. "I can't very well drive with my shoes falling off, Hook. Get in, already."
She started the Bug and off they went, to see for themselves if Hook's wayward ship had indeed made its way back to its captain.
It was nearly midnight and the moonlight brightened the surface of the water to a shining glow. A ship could indeed be seen bobbing in the gentle waves, a good distance out. Hook had jumped out of the car before she could even put it in park and was standing on the dock with his mouth hanging open in shock when she came to stand by him. She slipped her hand into his. "Is it the Jolly Roger?" she asked quietly. He nodded, swallowing.
"I'd know her from any distance. But I have no bloody idea how she could've gotten here."
"Hook, who did you trade her to?"
He looked down at her, unhappily. "An utter bastard of a pirate who didn't even deserve to walk her plank." He looked back out at the sea where his ship was apparently drifting in with the tide. "But he had what I needed at the time."
Emma pursed her lips. "I'm sorry, love."
"Don't be sorry. I would've traded my other hand and possibly a few other parts of me for the night we just had. And that's my line, love," he smiled down at her affectionately.
"Well, how do we get out to her? We won't be able to figure out how she got to Storybrooke from the dock."
They searched until they found a small boat that was easily liberated from its lashings. Hook spent some time fashioning a grappling hook from the tire iron in the back of the Bug. "Can't board her without a bit of effort. But she's worth the trouble. I've found that to be true of the best things in life, don't you agree?"
He was flashing her that devilish grin that always turned her knees to jelly. Now that she knew what it was like to be the object of his efforts, she couldn't help but grin back. With a small eye roll, just to remind him she was still no fainting bar wench.
Off they went, Hook rowing while she sat in the bow and tried to make out details about the ship with his spyglass.
"You know love, this would actually be quite romantic under a different set of circumstances. You, me, my ship anchored in the moonlight, bottle of wine."
She was quiet for a moment. "Killian, what flag did you usually fly with the Jolly Roger?"
"Depended on what we were about. Why, what do you see?"
"It's a tattered black flag, with the silhouette of two skulls facing each other. Does that mean something?"
Hook frowned and paused in his rowing a moment. "Nothing good, Swan. Best be on the lookout and keep your voice down."
They rowed in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds the creaking of the oars and the lapping of waves against the wood. He's right, Emma thought. I could see myself spending a lot of time with him out on the water like this, maybe even living on the Jolly Roger with him. Guess that's what happens when you fall in love with a pirate. She sighed and went back to sweeping the glass over the ship.
"She's not in good shape, Killian."
"What do you see?"
"Her main mast is bent at an angle, and what little is left of the sails are flapping in the breeze. Her paint is all stripped off as well."
"It sounds as though she's been through quite a storm, but she's enchanted against peril from the sea. It shouldn't be possible to sustain that type of damage, unless magic was involved perhaps." He kept rowing at a steady pace, brow furrowed with worry.
As they approached, they listened for signs that anyone was aboard. No hint of life stirred. The ship appeared to be drifting, tattered and empty. It was a sad sight, even for Emma. She looked with concern at Hook. He was clearly cataloguing the poor ship's wounds. There was more than a hint of anger in his motions as he prepared the grappling hook. She reached over and grabbed his hand for a moment and gave it a soft squeeze. The tension went out of his shoulders and he pulled her in for a kiss. It was brief but full of feeling and promise. She found herself wanting to row back out of there as fast as they could go, climb back into her bed and do very dirty things to each other. Suddenly boarding an empty ship in the middle of the night didn't seem like such a good idea, even if it was the beloved Jolly Roger. With their luck, they'd be sucked through another damned vortex and end up who knows where. Or When. She shivered as he tossed the hook up over the side of the ship. It made an unreasonably loud clang when it landed. As he pulled the rope tight it dragged with a massive scrape across the deck until it caught.
"Well, if anyone was asleep aboard, they won't be any more," quipped Emma.
Hook had made a harness of some kind for his hook hand that would allow him to scale the rope easily. His ability with knots was really quite...erotic. Emma had watched him twist the ropes in remarkable ways and found her mind wandering. He had caught her staring and winked lasciviously at her. "Another time, love, and I'll show you some excellent uses for a good length of rope." She wasn't the blushing type, but she felt her face warm at that.
"Up we go then, lass. I'll go first and then help you up."
He had just reached the railing when he felt the rope pull taut beneath him. Hauling himself over the side, he looked down to see Emma scaling the rope gracefully, hand over hand. He was shaking his head at her when she got to the top, but still offered his hand to help her over the railing. She just smiled a triumphant smile and accepted his proffered arm.
"It appears there's no one aboard, or else they're waiting to surprise us when we go below decks. Shall we, love?"
She nodded and pulled her gun from its holster. Hook slid his cutlass from his belt. They crept toward the hatch leading below decks. It was pitch black inside. Emma took her flashlight from her utility belt and clicked it on.
A sweep of the beam revealed nothing near the ladder. Hook swung down into the berth, sword at the ready. She climbed down right behind, and stumbled into his back when he stopped abruptly. He held up his hook hand to tell her to wait. She stopped moving and listened. Was that...snoring?
They peered into the captain's cabin. Amid half a dozen empty rum bottles, dirty dishes, and general filth, slept a man. More specifically, a very disheveled, quite likely dead-drunk pirate.
"BLOODY HELL!" roared Hook. He reached down and grabbed the man by the lapels. "What in the seven bloody seas are YOU doing on MY bloody ship?!"
"You know this guy?" asked Emma. She was still pointing her gun at the stranger but he seemed in no danger of waking up, much less posing a threat.
"Yes, we're acquainted." The disgust in Hook's voice was plain.
The man took this moment to belch hugely, waking himself up and filling the cabin with eye-watering rum fumes. He squinted up at Emma through very red eyes. "Helllllooolovelypleasetomakeyuracquaint-acquaint...meetyou."
"Emma Swan," ground out Killian behind clenched teeth, "this is Captain Jack Sparrow."
Killian and Emma went up on deck where the air was mercifully clearer and leaned against the railing. They had left Sparrow sleeping it off in Killian's bed, much to his extreme annoyance.
"I'm going to have to burn all of that bedding, you know. Possibly hire a fairy to work some sort of cleansing magic on my own captain's quarters." Hook was definitely displeased by this turn of events, but Emma was secretly thankful. Whatever she expected to be aboard, a drunken pirate seemed to be something they could manage.
"So who is this guy anyway? How did he end up with the Jolly Roger? I assume he's not the pirate you traded with for a magic bean." They were hanging hammocks they had scrounged from below decks across the rigging. Hook had found the anchor intact and had spent an hour securing the ship and taking stock of all that had been damaged. It was a long list and he seemed to take each item in need of repair as a personal affront.
Killian snorted. "Hardly. The man is the worst pirate I've ever heard of."
"Then you have heard of me."
They turned to see Sparrow standing behind them, trying jauntily to look as though he weren't so hungover that he was still drunk, and failing miserably.
"Heard of you, mate? I bested you in a game of dice in Tortuga several years ago. You handed me a mug of rum, the next thing I knew, I was lying face down in the gutter, with my coin purse mysteriously gone. And, my hook," he flashed his hook hand toward the offending pirate with a menacing gleam in his eye, "was nowhere to be found." Emma shifted slightly and bit back a smile - she knew better than to tamper with a man's hook. He was more than a little hot when he got all...piratey. She loved the swagger, even if she wouldn't admit it to him.
"Oh, riiiight mate. Captain Hook, was it?" he sauntered toward them on unsteady legs, gesturing wildly. Emma wondered if it was just the liquor or if the man was a bit...off. She kept her hand to her holster, just in case. "Terribly sorry about that. I was in a bit of a tight spot with a local merchant, you see. Apparently he and I had a fundamental disagreement about the worth of his daughter's virtue. He was quite unhappy with me and I needed to make a quick exit. You understand, mate. Your hook was still firmly attached to your person when I...borrowed...your coin purse, I assure you. Perhaps some spurned wench thought to get one over on the infamous Hook," he waggled his eyebrows at Hook and seemed to regard him with rakish respect. "You had quite a reputation with the ladies, if memory serves. Speaking of which, I don't believe we were properly introduced. I am Captain Jack Sparrow," he doffed his hat with a flourish, and made an unsteady, if courtly, bow in Emma's direction,"and I am very pleased to find such a lovely lass aboard my ship."
"YOUR ship-" sputtered Hook, advancing with murderous intent. Emma stopped him with a hand to his chest and gave him a warning look.
"We need to find out what happened here," she murmured under her breath. "Pleased to meet you, Captain. My name is Emma Swan."
The unkempt pirate straightened and placed his hat back on his head, striving for a rakish effect that merely emphasized the general disarray of his wardrobe. "Well that's rather, er, unexpected. Any relationship to Miss Elizabeth Swann?"
He looked rather wary for a moment. Emma's suspicions, never far below the surface, made a strong case for him hiding something. "No, I'm the only Swan that I know of. Why?"
"No reason, just a lass I once knew. Quite an adventurous spirit. Have you an adventurous spirit, milady?" He was eyeing her rather lecherously just now.
Hook growled under his breath, "That's it, he's walking the plank. If I can find it in this mess."
They agreed to wait to hear his story until morning when he was a bit more sober. Hook and Emma retired to the hammocks and let Sparrow remain below. They lay looking up at the stars and swaying gently in the breeze. Emma found herself relaxing as she hadn't been able to in ages. The rocking of the ship was lulling, as was Hook's hand holding hers across the space between them.
They woke at dawn as the sun crept up over the water. Emma opened her eyes to see Hook staring over at her in the rosy light. "Good morning," she smiled at him.
"You are a vision, Emma. If I could wake like this every morning, to your face bathed in golden light, I would be a fortunate man indeed."
She leaned over to kiss him properly awake - and underestimated just how easy it was to flip over in a hammock. An hour later as they rowed back to Storybrooke with their pirate guest, her dignity was still smarting. Something told her Hook would never let her forget how she flopped out of the hammock and onto the deck like a caught fish. He was still laughing, whenever she caught his eye. She tried not to smile, and put up an annoyed front, but it was a nice change to spend a morning laughing with the man she loved, instead of fighting for their lives.
They made their way from the dock to Granny's. It was early but it would be open soon, and their "captive" refused to tell them how he came to acquire the Jolly Roger without a hearty breakfast first.
They were the only ones in the diner except for Granny. They ordered food and coffee while Sparrow prattled on about what a strange realm this appeared to be. The Bug had absolutely flummoxed the man. He declared it to be magical and he was on no account going to ride in such an unholy horseless contraption. Hook had to threaten him with the cutlass to get him to squeeze into the back seat.
Now that they had their eggs and bacon and Sparrow was reviving somewhat, they settled in to hear his account of events leading him to Storybrooke in possession of the Jolly Roger.
"So you want to hear the strange tale of how Captain Jack Sparrow came to helm the Jolly Roger. I suppose I should begin with the barkeep's wife I met in Tortuga..."
As he began to talk between bites of breakfast, Emma reached for Killian's hand under the table. They exchanged glances. She had a bad feeling about this, and from the look in his eye, so did he.
