CHAPTER 4
The next morning proved only slightly awkward. Well maybe more than slightly.
The alarm sounded at 5:30am. As Emma reached to the side of the bed in order to shut it off, she received a jolt when she saw the sleeping form on the couch. Right. Hook. She was sharing a room with Hook. She was traveling with Hook. She remembered where she was and what she was doing; Vermont, and headed across the Canadian border for Operation Save Grandpa.
"Hook?" When he didn't answer, she spoke a little louder. "Hook, do you want to shower first or should I?"
All the response she received was a grunt, so she took that as leave to shower first. Once under the pulsating hot water, she began to feel alive again. She permitted herself a minute of indulgence, simply standing there allowing the water to envelope her. But only a minute; she was anxious they get on the road as soon as possible.
It was when she got out of the shower, and was drying her hair, that she realized her mistake. In her sleepy haze she hadn't brought any clothes into the bathroom. So there she was standing in front of the mirror, her only means of cover a fluffy, but not overly large, white towel wound around her mid-section.
And that was awkward. Especially after what he'd said last night. He'd said she was desirable. Well, he'd actually said she was the most desirable, but she couldn't think of herself in those terms. But when a man had expressed a sentiment like that, it really wasn't kind to parade half-naked in front of him scant hours later.
"Hook?" She poked her head out of the bathroom door.
He was seated on the couch and she saw him reach up and scrub his hand through his hair and then rub his eyes. "Swan, you're supposed to be helping me get into character."
"Right, sorry, it takes some getting used to. Killian, I need you to close your eyes and then trade places with me."
"Sorry?" With confusion, he looked across the room to where her voice was coming through the partially open bathroom door.
"Come switch places with me, I need to get dressed out there. But close your eyes."
With a shake of his head he stood and stretched. Then with a bemused shrug he cooperated by crossing the room. Once at the door he closed his eyes and Emma exited.
However, as she passed by him, he murmured, "Nice, Swan."
His voice made her stop. Looking up at him, she discovered he was less than a foot away and his eyes were most definitely open. Her breathing hitched at the dark look she saw there as his gaze blatantly traveled over her exposed skin above the towel. Silence reigned for a long moment; the only sound their breath mingling. The air seemed to be charged with some unseen electrical current, sparking at random, drawing them closer. Then the space between them dwindled, she wasn't sure if she leaned in to him or he leaned into her. Or, most likely, they leaned into one another.
Finally, just inches apart, she gently scolded him. "I told you to close your eyes." Her voice came out in a low rasp, barely above a whisper.
He too spoke in a low tone as his gaze traveled to her lips. "You also reminded me I'm a pirate, luv… I don't always do as I'm told."
She swallowed hard. What was she doing? Half naked, leaning into him, this was not the time. She wasn't sure there was ever going to be a time, but she knew for certain this was not it. She needed to break the connection, so she forced herself to step away from him. As she pointed to the bathroom, she struggled to hide the fact that she needed to catch her breath. "Go."
He sighed deeply. "As you wish."
xxx
Emma pulled a white sweater, jeans and boots from her duffle and dressed quickly. More quickly than she normally would and she wasn't a dawdler to begin with. But the last thing she needed was to still be in any state of undress before he emerged. Besides she needed to talk to the innkeeper before they left, so as soon as she was passably ready for the day she embarked on this errand.
When she returned she was carrying coffees and a breakfast sandwich for each of them. She found him packing the rest of the clothes in a leather satchel that she wasn't sure she'd seen before. But that wasn't what stopped her in her tracks.
"Oh, uh, I see you're wearing the shirt I bought you."
"Aye. How do I look in blue? Normal enough not to attract undue attention at this border we're meant to cross? It feels a little odd, but if you say its acceptable then I'll concede."
She felt her pulse pick up speed as she studied him. Then she cursed herself silently for the involuntary reaction. As she had suspected while shopping, he looked really good in the color. But that wasn't what was fueling her reaction. Fighting to keep her voice even she replied. "You look… all right. Or, at least, you will when you finish dressing. If you go to the border like that, you're definitely going to attract attention."
The deep blue shirt hung loosely off his broad shoulders, but it was completely unbuttoned, exposing a wide strip of skin from his neck to the waistband of his pants, which, thankfully, he was wearing. Involuntarily her eyes traveled from the familiar swirls of dark hair on his chest- stopping momentarily at the locket he refused to take off— to the completely unfamiliar pale skin of his abs and stomach. Once her eyes got to his stomach she tried to look away, but instead couldn't help but follow the smattering of dark hair that trailed from his belly button down to an unknown spot hidden from her gaze by the black fabric of his trousers.
He coughed and that shook her out of her transfixion. Her eyes snapped back to his face and she found a bemused expression there.
"Why…" her voice croaked and found she needed to clear her throat before continuing. "Why isn't your shirt buttoned?"
With feigned helplessness he held up his hook. "Can't do it by myself."
"Are you kidding me? I have never seen more complicated clothing than what you wear on a daily basis."
He shrugged innocently. "I know how those fasteners work, but with these I'm unpracticed. Plus…" he fiddled with one of the button on his shirt. "They're so small; you're going to have to help me."
"Fine." She tried to appear more vexed than aroused as he approached, and the truth was she wasn't sure which feeling was currently more dominant. Of course she was mostly vexed at herself for buying the shirt in the first place. If she'd just bought him all black pullovers like she'd planned this wouldn't be happening.
Once in front of her, she keenly felt his presence. There was something magnetic about him, about being this near to him. Her knuckles brushed his chest as she started to fumble with a button near the top of the shirt. At the contact she heard his breathing hitch. Good. At least she wasn't the only one affected. The first button took some time, her fingers felt extraordinarily clumsy. But once she completed the first, she made quick work of the others. She had to finish and move away from him for her own peace of mind.
However, when her work was complete she took the time to smooth down the shirt and help him tuck it into his pants. Finally she stepped away and surveyed him. As her gaze moved upwards, she found a twinkle in his eye and his voice was laced with humor when he spoke. "Now, what do you think?"
"You look good," she deadpanned, trying to make a joke. "Like a sexy insurance adjuster from Des Moines."
"Sexy is the only word I comprehend from that description so I'll take it as a compliment. Does that mean my eyes are… enhanced enough for your liking?"
Instead of speaking, she shot him an exasperated look. Because the truth was with the way the shirt was bringing out his eyes, she was going to have to spend the rest of the day not looking directly at him, which was probably a good idea anyway.
He turned to go finish packing his satchel when he remembered that he needed to speak to her about something. "One thing, before we leave, though." He waved the fingers of his right hand at her. "Where are my treasures?"
She walked to the closet, opened the door and gestured to the room safe. But instead of taking them out, she began to close the door on them.
His voice was suddenly filled with very real concern. "You can't mean to leave them here?"
"Yes, what if the car gets searched at the border? How are we supposed to explain your treasures from another realm? Let alone your dagger. It's a good thing you don't have your sword with you. Plus they'll ask us about alcohol so the flask stays too. I've rented the room for several more nights. They'll be fine here. We can get them on the way back. In fact you should leave your coat and vest in the closet as well."
"I won't have a weapon?" He looked longingly at his dagger as she closed the safe and set the code.
"Hopefully we won't need any weapons. Regina said she's a kindly old lady."
"So kindly she may have kidnapped your father. At least let me bring my hook."
"Fine," she relented. "You can bring your hook. Just don't wear it now."
He eyed her carefully with a furrowed brow, before issuing a challenge. "What are you leaving behind?"
"I don't need to leave anything behind. I didn't bring anything suspicious with me."
There was suddenly an edge to him; in his voice and in his posture. "Then how do I know we're coming back here?"
At that Emma tensed. Both his manner and his words had stung her. She met his gaze with questioning eyes. "Don't you trust me?"
He cocked an eyebrow at her. "I'd feel better if you had as much reason to come back here as I do."
"Fine." The word was laced with irritation as she unwound the shoelace from her wrist and then unclasped the necklace from around her neck. "These aren't worth much, but they have sentimental value, I'll leave them behind. Are you satisfied?"
Finally he nodded. "It will do."
"Good." With brimming resentment, she'd shut her belongings in the safe beside his. When she turned back she didn't look at him when she spoke. "Now, if you're ready, can we leave? I'd like to go get David. We've already wasted too much time this morning."
xxx
The tension they'd both felt over the conversation spilled into their drive. She, of course, drove and he navigated. But for the directions he gave her there was very little else said between them as they left the quiet Vermont town and headed for the border.
He could tell she was angry, that much was clear. But he wasn't sure exactly what she had to be upset about. He'd simply wanted them to be on equal footing after all. He was still bothered that most of his worldly possessions—or at least his possessions in this world- were back in their room at the inn. However, at this point his annoyance had mostly waned and had been replaced by a desire to reclaim the easy rapport that they'd shared through most of this trip. After about twenty minutes of silence, he finally relented. "Emma…"
"What?" Her tone was even and unemotional.
"I sense that you're upset with me."
"You sense that I'm upset? Good powers of perception." She was aware that she was more upset now than she had been when they'd left the inn. But she'd had time. Had time to think about what he'd said, about what his words meant. And now she was definitely upset.
"But I'm not sure why. I've forgiven you-"
"You've forgiven me? Well, that's swell. Thanks!"
He wasn't sure why, but he was pretty sure that he'd just made it worse. He tried again. "Emma…"
"We're not going to talk about this now."
"But, we can't go all day-"
"No, look." She interrupted, motioning in front of them to where the border crossing loomed large. It was still fairly early and thankfully the lines of cars were not long. "We're not talking about this now, Killian."
"Oh, right." He'd pretty much been dismissing her concerns about this border crossing for the last day and a half. But suddenly, as he looked at the giant barrier and the armed guards, he was nervous. He glanced over at her. "Are we going with young lovers or the dashing criminal story?"
"Hopefully neither. Don't give them any information they don't ask for," she warned.
"Yes, I know. You told me that yesterday. But if they do ask…"
"Young lovers," she replied grudgingly. She spared a glance over at him as they came to a stop in the line of cars. "We'll pretend we like each other. But seriously no details, say as little as possible. Actually, let me do the talking. You sit there looking like a mild-mannered, non-threatening type guy… you know, the opposite of what you are."
"I don't have to pretend to like you, Emma." He tried to inject some of his normal swagger into the comment, but his tone ended up sounding too genuine to pull it off.
"Well, at the moment, I have to pretend to like you."
At that he gave up and sagged back against his seat and turned to look out his passenger-side window.
Emma's keen eyes took everything in as they pulled up to the window. God, she hoped Regina knew what she was doing with magic passports. And then it hit her. She couldn't believe it hadn't occurred to her earlier that maybe David's passport had failed and he was sitting in some national security detention facility right now! Her heart rate shot up and in an instant she felt perspiration on her palms. She forced herself to take a deep breath; the only way to find out was to go through. If Killian's document worked, then David's probably had too. If it didn't work, then that was a bridge they would have no choice but to cross in about 30 seconds.
She passed both passports and her driver's license through the open window, willing herself to calm down.
"You drove all the way from New York?" A stout woman with severe features asked as she looked at Emma's driver's license.
"Yes, my boyfriend and I are on vacation." Emma reached over and grabbed Hook's gloved hand for show, but didn't remember that it was prosthetic until it was too late. Her face flushed, but she kept her grip on the unmoving appendage. "Taking our time. Quaint inns, B&Bs, that type of thing. We thought we'd try Montreal." Damn. Stop talking! She yelled at herself. What was she doing? The exact opposite of what she'd ordered Hook to do, that was what. Her last second nerves were getting the better of her.
"How long are you staying?"
"Just a day or two, we want to spend some time frol-"
"Frol?" the woman prodded when Emma stopped speaking.
Emma swallowed and then forced a smile. "Frolicking. I meant to say frolicking. He likes to frolic. It's what we call sighting, you know trendy New Yorkers always inventing a new word, when an old one will do." Seriously, what was wrong with her?
"Are you carrying any illegal substances?" The woman eyed her warily.
"No." Emma nodded and then tried to shoot her a relaxed smile.
Then the woman went through a laundry list of questions. Thankfully, the answer to which were all a simple 'no.' "Drugs? Firearms? Alcohol or Tobacco? Meat? Fruit? Vegetables?"
The woman looked down at her from her perch in the window and was about to hand their documents back. "One last thing, do either of you have any past convictions?"
Emma froze. Fuck. She hadn't thought… she hadn't realized they would ask this. She was trying to figure out whether to tell the truth or lie when the woman amended, "In the last five years."
Emma let out a breath of air and then prayed the woman hadn't noticed. "No, ma'am."
"Good enough. Bienvenue au Québec."
Emma turned forward, let go of Hook's false hand and put the car into drive. It took a moment for her racing heart to return to normal.
After a couple of minutes of silence he said, "That was quite a display, Swan."
Humor was evident in his voice. She narrowed her eyes and briefly glanced over to him as she drove. "What?"
"Did you have some sort of verbal malfunction, darling? Something happen that prevented you from stopping speaking? However I am glad to know that you've changed your mind about frolicking."
"No." She pointed over at him with her right hand. "You do not get to tease me. Not while I'm mad at you."
The humor that had been present in his voice and expression a moment earlier was now gone. "About that-"
"I'm not in the mood." She sighed irritably as she interrupted him.
With that rebuff, he let it sit for some time. Again their communication was limited to a few navigational items. It was another half hour before he tried again.
"Emma, I'm sorry I've made you angry." When she didn't respond, he ventured, "Do you accept my apology?"
Instead of answering she glanced over at him long enough to roll her eyes.
"Emma…" He was clearly exasperated. "Just tell me what I've done."
"You know what; I don't want to get into this right now. So we're fine. Let's just focus on finding David."
He watched her for a moment and then shrugged. "If that's what you desire."
"That is what I desire. Now let's go over what we know about this Good Witch of the North."
He complied; if only because she was starting a conversation and that was a vast improvement. "Regina said she's a kind, elderly lady who likes handsome men. Don't worry; I'll be on my guard."
"Hmm," Emma shook her head, purposely ignoring his joke. "We need more than that."
Then it dawned on him. "This morning at Regina's you mentioned something about the Wicked Witch being afraid of water. How did you know that?"
Emma frowned in thought. "It's worth a try, hand me my phone." Once he'd held it up to her, she reached over and pressed the home button to close the GPS. Then pressed the browser app. "There," she pointed to demonstrate. "Use those letters down there to spell out 'Good Witch of the North.'"
It took him a couple of minutes, what with one hand and with navigating the unfamiliar arrangement of letters, but when he'd finished he held the phone back up to her. Shifting her eyes between the road and the screen she reached over and touched a link and then motioned to the wiki article that had appeared. "Now read." Then as an afterthought she added, "Please."
After studying it with furrowed brow, he looked over at her. "It's like magic."
"It's like technology. And we're roaming in another country, so I'm going to pay a pretty penny for it. Now let's see what it says about this Good Witch of the North."
xxx
"There!" Hook pointed to a sign on a dirt road. They'd made excellent time. It wasn't even noon when they found themselves on a narrow road in a rural area that was actually south of Montreal.
"What?" Emma asked as she scanned the country side, trying to figure out what had gotten him so excited.
"Gilliken Country Lane. That has to be it." He motioned down to the phone in his lap. "Gilliken Country was referenced in the magic library in your phone and the sign is purple, which doesn't match the others in this area."
"It's also the only name that doesn't sound French." She glanced over at him and she executed a U-turn in the bug and headed back to the lane. "I think we found it. Good job."
At that faint praise he smiled. While she had been speaking to him as they learned everything her phone could tell them about the Good Witch of the North, there'd still been an icy reserve to her interactions with him and she'd been dismissive of him on several occasions.
Emma steered the car up the lane and stopped at the mailbox. Reading the name that was on the side of it, she said, "North. I'd say this is it." She drove on until an elaborate farmhouse painted in all different shades of purple came into view. It was surrounded by a lush landscape of exotic trees and flowering bushes that didn't match the surrounding country.
As she pulled to a stop in front of the house, he looked over to her. "What's the plan?"
"Knock on the door."
"Are you sure, maybe we should look around first, or perhaps one of us should stand sentry while-"
Without ceremony she interrupted him. "We're knocking on the door."
He grimaced at her newly totalitarian attitude. However, he acquiesced; this was her mission, he was just along for the ride. "Lead the way."
Emma was nervous as they stood on the porch. There was something odd about the house, and it wasn't just that it was painted so many different shades of purple that she wouldn't have been able to count them all. It was a feeling. But she steeled herself; the only thing that mattered at the moment was finding David. So she raised her fist and knocked on the ornately-carved front door.
The woman who answered was dressed all in white and was obviously quite old, but still inexplicably lovely. If asked to guess her age, Emma would have had no idea where to start. She cleared her throat before speaking. "Hello, I'm Emma and this, uh, is Killian. We're looking for someone who might have been in this area and we're wondering if perhaps you've seen him. His name is David."
The woman smiled beatifically at them as she stepped back from her door in a welcoming gesture. "Won't you come in, I'm afraid we don't get many visitors out here. I'm Mademoiselle North."
Without betraying the unease Emma felt, she stepped into the woman's home and Hook quickly followed her. She looked around in wonder. It seemed as if every nook and cranny of the colorful room held knickknacks and other assorted treasure. "This is, uh, a lovely place you have, Mademoiselle North."
"Why thank you. I do like to collect… things." At that she eyed Hook up and down. "Has anyone ever told you, sir, that you have the most beautiful eyes?"
Hook took an involuntary step back from the woman and he couldn't help glancing at Emma before he spoke. "Someone might have mentioned something about my eyes before. But thank you for the gracious compliment."
Emma let out an inelegant grunt, but stepped forward, so she was between Hook and the woman whom she had just decided was most definitely the witch they were seeking. The way she was looking at Hook, she obviously liked handsome men. "So, as I was saying, we're looking for a man named David. He's about 30, blonde… quite handsome. Have you seen anyone like that?"
"No, I'm afraid that doesn't ring a bell. Which is unfortunate, he sounds… nice." Mademoiselle North answered serenely.
"Are you sure?" Emma cocked an eyebrow at her. "Because I have reason to believe he was headed to see you."
"I'm an old woman, my dear. No one comes to see me."
"Really? Why's that?"
"Because they can't," she replied simply.
"They can't?" Emma motioned between Hook and herself. "But we're here to see you."
"Yes, dear, but you're not from here."
Emma's eyes went wide as she tried to ascertain her meaning. "Uh, no, I'm not. I'm from New York."
"No, dear. I mean you're not from here." The woman put special emphasis on the last word. "And neither is he. If you were from here, you wouldn't have been able to find my home."
"Oh." Emma paused as she tried to figure out what to say next. This was not good. "Well-"
"No, you're right, we're not from here." Hook interrupted as he started to move towards the witch. As he passed Emma she could sense that everything about him had changed; his demeanor, his expression. He was aggressive; he was Hook. "Now where is-"
But he didn't get to finish his sentence before everything went black.
TBC
