372 Days

Chapter Three – Bail

Killian had been arrested. All he'd been doing was sitting outside Emma's apartment block for a little over an hour, trying to think of ways he could get her to hear him out. He didn't see how that warranted one of her neighbors calling the police. Then they threw around words like stalking and harassment as though he was banging on their doors or threatening to take their kids hostage. All he was doing was thinking.

But the cops didn't care and they hauled him away anyway, exchanging looks as they took in his attire. He stayed quiet as he was ducked into the backseat of the cop car, still mistrustful of modern vehicles but choosing not to comment on that.

As the car pulled away, he glanced back at the building and his heart skipped, the way it only ever did when he saw Emma. He turned and kept his eyes on her for as long as possible, willing her to catch sight of him. As the car rounded a corner sharply, he jolted sidewards and his shoulders slumped.

"You get out of Bellevue or something, buddy?"

One of the cops addressed him over his shoulder and Killian frowned in confusion, not even knowing what a possible answer to that question could be.

"I'm afraid I know not of this 'Bellevue'…"

He saw the cops share another glance and he sighed, shifting his eyes to watch the city flash by outside the window. He had mostly managed to keep interactions to a minimum during his journey to find Emma, partly out of fear of unknowingly doing something that could land him in a sticky situation…like the one he was currently in.

It didn't take long before the car pulled up outside a bustling building and the door was opened for him. He allowed himself to be led inside and was somewhat fascinated by everything going on around him. People openly stared as he walked by, looking him up and down, but he'd become used to that and didn't let it get to him.

Once the cops who had brought him in booked him, he was led to a room where he was told to wait and someone would be in to talk to him. The minutes rolled by and turned into hours, but he waited patiently. No use causing a commotion because then they really would have reason to hold him and he really couldn't afford that time. Instead, he used the time alone to come up with some way, any way, he could get Emma to listen to him.

Emma's morning run had certainly helped to clear her mind. She had decided to add an extra half hour so had left earlier and headed straight for the park, foregoing her usual coffee stop pre-run. The dreams from the night before had still haunted her when she awoke at 6am, but she was somewhat thankful she'd managed at least a few hours of undisturbed sleep

As she approached her apartment building again, glancing at her watch to check she wasn't late to make Henry's breakfast, she caught sight of a police car pulling away but didn't dwell on it. Police cars weren't exactly a rare thing to see on a New York City street.

Two of the old women from the ground floor apartments were in the hallway as she let herself inside, discussing the 'crazy' that the police had carted off moments earlier. She smiled a little and shook her head. She knew Mrs. Grimshaw spent most of the day sat by her window, hoping for some kind of excitement to unfold outside, and apparently she'd got her wish that morning.

The women greeted her warmly, asking after Henry. They adored her son because he was one of the only kids in the building with a good set of manners, they said. That did make Emma feel kinda proud, she had to admit.

"Oh, and dear, that handsome young man in the pirate outfit who's been hanging around here for the past couple days has finally been removed. They'll probably take him back to Bellevue. In case you were wondering about the commotion outside."

She had to appreciate that their definition of 'commotion' was certainly not the same as hers, but she was stopped in her tracks. He was in that cop car she's just seen? Cold bumps skittered across her arms and she turned back to the two old ladies.

"H-how long was he out there?"

She asked, trying to sound nonchalant and mildly uninterested. Mrs. Grimshaw clicked her teeth and folded her arms.

"Well, I'd say a little over an hour. You left earlier than usual today, right? You're lucky you did, dear. Pretty young thing like you would have caught his attention and he's clearly unstable."

She forced a smile and excused herself, her heart hammering in her chest as she headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time and getting into her apartment as soon as she could, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. She frowned a little as she smelled bacon, but she shrugged it off.

Emma was torn. Part of her wanted to go straight over to the police station and get him out of there, and the other part wanted to let the authorities deal with him in whatever way they pleased, as long as it meant he'd be staying out of her life for a little while.

Henry appeared from his bedroom and gave her a wide smile.

"Hey mom, guess what?"

She pushed Hook to the back of her mind as best she could, wiping a hand across her face and walking toward the dining area where Henry stood now, giving her son a smile when what she really wanted to do was hug him to her as tight as she could. But he'd know she was being weird again and she didn't need to get into all that.

"What, kid?"

She smiled, and Henry gestured to the table. He'd laid out their places, with orange juice in place of their usual hot chocolate, and had made pancakes with a side of scrambled eggs and bacon. Emma's eyebrows shot up and she stared in surprise.

"You…made breakfast?"

He nodded proudly and in an exaggerated waiter-pose, he pulled out her chair and gestured for her to sit. She laughed and complied, thanking him graciously and smiling at him as he sat down opposite her.

"It's scaring me how fast you're growing up, kid. I didn't even know you could crack an egg, never mind make…pretty damn good scrambled eggs. And pancakes."

She hummed in appreciation as she took a bite of the scrambled eggs. She'd almost go as far as saying he made a better breakfast than she did. He laughed and set to work on his pancakes, chattering away between bites about his excitement for the weekend. For a moment, Emma forgot about the pirate sat in a jail cell and her crazy dreams keeping her up at night. For a moment, they'd rewound to a few days previous when their life couldn't have been any more normal.

Once Henry had left for school, Emma busied herself with cleaning and laundry and washing her hair. Anything to keep her mind occupied and prevent it from straying to thoughts of Hook sat in a jail cell. But no matter how she tried, she simply couldn't keep her mind from wandering back to him. She felt a connection to him that she couldn't explain or fully grasp.

Exasperated with herself, she grabbed her keys. The only way she was going to get him out of her head was by talking to him, hearing what he had to say for himself. The way he'd barrelled into her life had certainly been unexpected, but she had to know what he'd so urgently needed her to remember…and find out if it had anything to do with her crazy dreams.

It was supposed to be her relaxing week off work, but instead she was anxiously making her way downtown on a Friday morning, rehearsing in her head what she'd say to him, the ground rules she'd lay down before she allowed him to explain himself.

When she arrived at the precinct, she took a quick breath before pushing open the doors and stepping into the bustle. She couldn't help the shiver that shouldered it's way through her, the knot that formed in her stomach every time she went near this place. It took her back to times in her life she'd much rather forget. The times before Henry had saved her, when she was young and wild and reckless, stealing cars and watches, trying to 'find herself'.

Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her red leather jacket, Emma walked over to the main desk, where a homely-looking middle-aged woman who couldn't have looked anymore jaded sat clicking away on her computer while simultaneously answering a phonecall and filing reports.

And here we see a NYPD receptionist in her natural habitat, Emma thought, inwardly smirking to herself. She waited until the woman put down the receiver and raised her eyes.

"Erm…a guy was brought in before-"

"Gonna have to be a bit more specific than that, sugar."

The woman gestured to the bustling department around them, disinterest and bemusement practically radiating from her. Emma frowned. Well, if you'd let me finish.

"British accent, dark hair, all in leather-"

"Oh, the pirate impersonator? He belong to you? We figured he escaped from Bellevue. So you're posting bail."

Emma gave her a tight-lipped smile and chose not to comment on the fact that she'd thought the exact same thing. She simply nodded and gave the woman her details as she tapped them into the computer, taking the little blue slip the woman then handed her. She pointed in the direction of a bench where several other people were sat, obviously also waiting to bail people out, so Emma headed over and sat awkwardly at the end of the bench, blue slip in her pocket, twisting her fingers together in anticipation.

She could have probably skipped all this if she'd just called into work and asked Angela to pull some strings. After all, bailing people out was literally what she did every day as a bail bondsperson. But she didn't want anyone else knowing about this little…complication that had arrived in her life uninvited. She couldn't even explain why she was bailing him out, really. She didn't even know his name.

Pulling the slip out of her pocket, she looked down at the block letters stating his name. Killian Jones. She muttered it out loud, the name so familiar yet so foreign to her. It brought that same feeling she'd been struck with when she opened the door and saw his face just over twenty-four hours earlier.

An hour later, still staring down the blue slip, Emma heard his name being called and her head snapped up. Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she stood up and walked over to where a tall blonde guy, very obviously a cop, stood waiting for her.

"You're here to bail out the pirate guy?" he asked and when she nodded, he motioned for her to follow him, "this way. His bail's pretty low seeing as he's in for a misdemeanour and there was no violence involved. Lawyer has said he'll probably be acquitted."

Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing at the irony of it all. She was the one he'd been 'harassing', and here she was bailing him out. If she'd called the cops when she'd threatened to, he'd likely have been charged with assault…and she'd be paying a higher bail rate. Small mercies.

Once she'd paid the bail amount, she waited on a bench where the cop left her. She felt an inexplicable anxiety settle in her stomach, wondering what on earth she'd do now. She'd just bailed him out of jail, she couldn't exactly walk away. Glancing up as the door at the far end of the hallway opened, Emma saw the cop and close behind him, Hook.

When he caught sight of her, his whole face lit up and the knot twisted tighter in her gut, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck standing up. He was free of handcuffs and the cop gave her a quick nod before leaving them alone in the empty hallway.

"Hook."

She said quietly, standing up to face him. She saw his breath visibly hitch and his eyes searched hers.

"You…remember?"

He asked, his voice tentative and so full of hope that it tore at her heart a little. She shook her head slowly and he visibly deflated, shoulders dropping fractionally and the smile on his face faltering.

"But…you came to get me? I suspected it was you who'd called the police, until I saw you as I was being removed by your enforcers of the law. They seem to believe I'm from a land called Bellevue, but I'm sure I've never been to that place."

Emma couldn't help the laughter that bubbled from her. He was either a really damn good actor, or he'd been living in an era reminiscent of his clothing for the best part of his life. But she found his way of talking oddly endearing and the knot in her stomach had evolved into butterflies that she couldn't quite explain. He had an effect on her that no other man had ever elicited. She wasn't the butterflies-and-dear-diary type, never had been.

He wasn't sure why she was laughing, but seeing the smile he'd dreamed about for over a year was enough to put a smile back on his face. He was fighting the urge to kiss her again, but she'd just sprung him from jail and he was sure she'd put him back in a heartbeat if he tried that again. When she'd said his name, his heart had almost stopped. If she didn't remember, how did she know his name?

"Can we…talk? Maybe get a coffee. But don't try to kiss me again, got it?"

She tried to keep her voice stern, but even she could hear the waver. He nodded and followed her as they walked down the hallway toward the exit.

"Or maybe a hot chocolate with cinnamon?"

She spun around, her eyes wide and he simply smiled knowingly.