CHAPTER ONE

The smoke from the gun swam in the air in a sultry dance, drawing the other particles in with its magnetism. Emma had barely flinched. Killian, however, had fallen squarely onto the ground, his coat and fedora in shambles around him. Emma heard a loud scream and footsteps running to her door. Ruby barged in, her red cape coat askew and matching heels skidding on the tile, some brown curls pulling apart from her perfectly combed coif. She looked at Emma, standing there with the blowing gun and then at the mysterious visitor on the ground. "Jesus Emma, you said two minutes!" Ruby heard a groan and noticed the man moving. "Oh, thank god."

"Ruby, would you kindly get me a bandage and some water for Mr. Jones here?"

"Yes, ma'am," she said, annoyance floating in her voice. She sighed another breath of relief before she closed the door. Emma put the gun down and leaned against the desk, her hands behind her.

"Now then, Mr. Jones, that was your warning. I may be in need of money, but I don't take kindly to maniacal men."

"Understood," Killian said, flinching as he tried to get up off the floor. The bullet had grazed his arm and went through the wall behind him, just as she had intended. Crimson began to seep into the cerulean fabric of his shirt. It was then that Emma noticed what his coat and hat had been hiding. He didn't have a left hand. The fabric of the shirt was neatly tucked and pinned over where the appendage ended. Killian, all too familiar with stares, immediately followed her eyes to his arm and smiled, wincing from the small gash. "Yes, well, I've taken more shots at my character than the fact that I'm a cripple so I wouldn't feel too bad, darling."

"Oh, I don't feel bad at all. I'm an equal opportunity shooter," she told him, offering her hand to help him up. "Now, Mr. Jones, you're going to sit in this chair and you're going to tell me exactly what you know about my family and I'll decide if I need to help you or not." He obliged her offered hand and sat down, wincing as the oxygen cinged the open wound. Ruby came in with a first aid kit and a glass of water. She sat the kit on the desk and gave the water to Killian with shaking hands. He gave her a wink in thanks, sending the blood up to Ruby's cheeks. "Thank you, Ruby. That will be all." Ruby straightened out her blouse and tried to hide her smile as she walked out of the office. Emma opened up the kit and took out the alcohol and bandages, organizing them on the table.

"You're different," Killian muttered, watching her up and down.

Emma spun some bandage out from its roll and ripped off a considerable amount. "What do you mean?" Emma saw him trying to find the appropriate words. She had a feeling he was the kind to react before rationalizing so for him to struggle was a little...off.

"How you speak, walk, everything. It's like your life before…" His words trailed off as she walked closer to him with an alcohol soaked pad of gauze. With her fingertips, she gripped his arm and tore his shirt where the bullet had grazed. Her touch warmed him, like he had never hurt at all. "Darling, if you wanted me to take my clothes off, you could've just said so." She smiled at him and pressed the gauze hard onto his arm. He hissed, clenching his knee with white knuckles.

Emma rolled her eyes at him. "Please, don't be such a baby." He looked at her again, wanting nothing more than to touch her, to feel her delicate curls brush against his face. "Still waiting, Mr. Jones. Next time, I won't do the courtesy of fixing you up afterwards," she said, her voice raised as she wrapped his arm carefully with the bandage and tied a loose knot. She locked glances with him for just a moment too long and felt drawn in.

"Thank you, my lady," he whispered to her, his breath strong of cinnamon and salt water. A flicker of a smile crept on her lips before she turned her back to him. He picked up his coat and hat from the floor and kept them in his lap. Emma sat across from him, anxious now, but happy that she got her point across. Killian cleared his throat, organizing proper thoughts. "Detective Swan, I've come a long way-"

"Yeah pal, you said that already. Tell me something I don't know."

"Not just for you, you see. But for the safety of your son."

Emma's eyes widened, though she tried hard not to show it at first. "What do you know about my son?"

"His name is Henry, and he's about 10 years old, big believer in tall tales, I'd imagine?"

"And how could you possibly know that?"

"Because Emma, he was a lost boy, as I was. But we helped to find him again and when bad things happened back home, you both were lost again to all of us."

"All of us?"

"Your family."

"Yeah, you keep saying my family, when the family I know is safe here in Boston. What exactly is your point here, Jones?" Panic started drowning her and it ached him to see fear in her face again. He had sworn to himself that he would never cause her pain.

"Emma, listen. Your family-your birth family-lives in a town named Storybrooke. They are in danger and I have been looking for you and your son for a long time to bring you to them, to bring you back home." Emma felt her chest starting to heave. There was no sense in hiding anymore. Birth family? For as long as she remembered trying, she could never find hide nor hair of them. Their mystery was the entire reason she fought to become a detective in the first place. To her now, they didn't exist. The only family she needed was Henry and those just a telegram away. She regarded Killian with suspicion, but the sudden realization that this could be a chance to find out the answer to the number one question for any orphan-why?-was way too good to pass up. Killian was at a loss. There really wasn't a more practical way to say it and she needed to know. "Emma, believe it or not, I'm here to help you."

"And why you? What's in it for you?" Killian looked up from underneath his eyelashes, framing his hurt eyes. An odd sensation of being on the ocean made her stomach lurch.

"You may not remember, but we were friends once. And I made a promise to you back then. I don't intend on ever breaking it." A complete lunatic, Emma thought. But his voice. It was an echo bouncing across neurons and blood vessels and star maps in her mind. There's no way that I could know him, could I? she thought. "Swan?" he asked, watching her movements with worried tension.

"Shut up, I'm thinking." He pursed his lips immediately but didn't look away. After agonizing seconds ticked by, Emma finally conceded. "Okay, okay, what exactly do I need to do here?"

Killian smiled. "That's a good lass. The answer lies with the Emerald King." To Killian's surprise, Emma slammed her hand on the table and stood up, anger fueling in her face.

"The Emerald King? Is this some kind of joke?"

"Emma, I-"

"The Emerald King doesn't exist. I have been trying to hunt him down for corrupt acts in this city for years. He has a whole network of spies and gangsters and no one ever talks. They get caught, they take a shot, they don't squeal and they go free. There's been no evidence of his actual presence."

"Oh, he quite real, love. But you've always known that, haven't you?"

Emma didn't know which prospect was more rewarding now: the meeting of her birth family or the possible catch of the Emerald King, her white whale. Both seemed too good to be true, yet it had more than her attention. "Yes, he has to be."

"We can catch him, Emma. And once he gives us what we need, we can rescue your family and you and Henry can come back home."

"No," she said. She looked at the picture frame sitting in the corner of her desk. It was of her, Henry and her father, the two men that she would sacrifice everything for...again. She closed her eyes and blinked away the tears. What would they do? What would they say? "Henry stays out of this," she finally told him, a small lump in her throat. "We do this, I do whatever I need to do to help your friends and I come back here. This is my home."

Killian felt like the world could crumble at any moment, but he took in a deep breath and bowed his head. "As you wish, my lady."

The words rang in her ears like a melody and she smiled even though she hadn't meant to. Emma looked at him as he stood up. He put on his coat with ease, straightening out the lapels and brushing off the dust from the floor. He flipped his fedora and landed it on his head as if it had floated there by itself. He was handsome to a fault and she knew he probably used that to his advantage more times than most. She wouldn't fall for that. She couldn't fall for that. "I have to make arrangements. I need to take Henry to his grandma's. I need to pick up some supplies."

"Supplies?"

Emma put the gun in her purse, throwing in the cigarettes shortly after. "Files, camera and lots of bullets. If we're going up against the King, we need to do it right. We start now, let's go." They walked out of the office, passing Ruby's desk. "Leaving for the night, Ruby. Go home and stay safe. Chances are I won't be in tomorrow so lock up tight."

"Yes, ma'am. Should I call Mr. Jones a cab?"

"No, he's coming with me," she said, grabbing her coat off the rack in the corner. She looked over at Ruby who was eyeing her with great surprise. A smirk appeared on her lips and she crossed her arms with gratification. "Oh, wipe the smile, Ruby. You're a working girl, be more professional."

"Yes, ma'am. Have fun tonight, ma'am." She mmhmm'd to herself as Killian held the door open for Emma.

Emma rolled her eyes, grabbed the bottom of Killian's jacket and sprinted out the door into the dusk evening. What had she gotten herself into?