Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time or its characters. I only borrow.
"Can we get something to eat?"
"Yeah, Kid, we'll stop in a minute." Emma had to smile, remembering the first not-a-road-trip she had taken with Henry. "We should get a hotel room for the night, too."
She wasn't particularly happy to be back in Boston. It wasn't the worst place she had lived, and it wasn't exactly full of painful memories, but it wasn't full of happy ones either. Mary Margaret had said that Tinker Bell's treehouse in Neverland was just a place to sleep, and that's sort of what Boston in general was for Emma. It was just a place to be. It hadn't been hard to pick up and move to Storybrooke because she hadn't had anything tying her to Boston.
"I just want to get gas and some supplies first."
"What was wrong with all the other places?" Henry asked as she pulled the car up to a pump at a rundown gas station. A fair enough question, as they had passes a least a dozen others since they entered the city.
"I want to talk to the owner real quick, too."
Hook and Henry both got out of the car to stretch their legs while she filled the tank.
"Do you guys want to wait out here? I should only be a minute."
"Mom, I've been in the car for four hours."
Hook was similarly appreciative of the opportunity to move around a bit.
"Can Killian and I go get something to eat while you talk?" Henry pointed at a diner across the street. (Hook had dutifully reminded Emma of the things she needed to tell Henry.)
"Umm… yeah, that's fine with me. As long as H- Killian is okay with it." When she looked at Hook, he was looking back at her with that same indecipherable expression that he had worn when he saw his ID.
"Of course, love. Lead the way, young sir." Hook bowed to Henry and swept his arm to the side. He sent a wink Emma's way after Henry had passed him. She gave him a small smile.
"Alright, I'll meet you over there in a few minutes, then."
In the store, she grabbed a wide selection of snacks and six disposable cell phones, two for each of them. Her precautions were possibly unnecessary, as Pan wasn't terribly likely to learn how to track a cell phone, but she wasn't willing to leave it to chance. The owner turned towards her when she set the merchandise on the counter. "Emma!" He cried.
"Hello Mr. Paulson, how have you been?" She'd forgotten that she liked the old man. He always had a smile, even when she was helping a bounty hunter take his son back to jail. Granted, he had been the one to call in the tip saying his son was there, but still.
"Well, you know." Yeah, she knew. Economy sucks, nobody stops at the mom-and-pop places anymore, son's a good-for-nothing brat in prison for the third time. And yet, he smiles.
"Where have you been? I feel as though I haven't seen you in years!"
"I moved actually; this is the first time I've been back in Boston for a while."
"And you stopped here! I'm honored." Mr. Paulson was always smiling and sincere. Emma was fairly certain that if someone robbed the place he would still be smiling while he emptied his register and scolded the thief.
"Well, you always have the best candy," she said with a grin. It was even true; he always had things that the large chains had stopped carrying, like sour gummy straws and Warheads. "I was wondering, have you seen Kyrie lately?" The bounty hunter had been the one to introduce Emma to Mr. Paulson, during the aforementioned seizure of his son.
"Not for a few days. She still comes around, though."
"I've been trying to get in touch with her, and the last number I had for her is out of service. Could I leave a letter for her with you?"
"Of course! I'll give it to her as soon as she comes in again."
"Thanks, Mr. Paulson, I appreciate it." After she paid for her gas and goodies with Regina's money, she activated one of the phones. She wrote a note for Kyrie saying simply 'Call me, it's important. - Emma' with her new number underneath. She thanked Mr. Paulson again and left the letter with him. He smiled and waved goodbye to her from the window as she left to drive to the diner. That man is abnormally cheerful.
When Emma pulled up to the diner she could see Hook and Henry through the window. They were drinking sodas and laughing about something. She was relieved. Though Henry hadn't really had any negative experiences with Hook, she had worried that her son wouldn't like the pirate. Should've known. An apparently nonfictional character with interesting stories of adventure. Of course Henry likes him.
She left the snacks and phones, except the one she'd already activated, in the car.
"Well, we've got phones and enough junk food to sustain us for days," she announced as she slid in the booth next to Henry. He nodded in reply, and Hook just gave her a smile.
"Killian's been telling me stories." Of course he has.
"Nothing terrible, love. Mostly from my days in the navy," Hook was sure to mention. Emma wasn't actually all that worried. Hook probably had some terrible stories to tell, to be sure, but she trusted him with her son. She was feeling a little… fond?... of him for telling Henry stories that almost certainly included his brother.
"By all means, continue. I wouldn't mind hearing some of those myself, Killian." And again with that look. Huh, is it the name thing? I guess I've never really called him by his given name. She shrugged internally, not something to think about now.
Their waitress was all smiles as she brought out Henry's and Hook's orders (a burger and a steak, respectively). She was extra smiley, if possible, when she put Hook's plate in front of him. Her smile lost a little of its luster when she saw Emma. "Can I get you a menu?"
"I'll have one of what he's having," Emma replied, pointing at Henry's plate. The waitress nodded and headed off to the kitchen to place the order. Emma saw her drop the smile just before she was out of sight.
"Have you arrested her too, then?"
"Hmm?"
"Well, she was perfectly friendly until you came in. I'd think you'd have to at least talk to someone before you made an enemy," Hook told her with a teasing smirk. She could tell by that smirk that he knew as well as she did that the waitress was annoyed with the apparent competition for Hook's attention.
"I must have upped my game," she replied. "So, how about those stories?"
Hook kept Emma and Henry laughing through most of their dinner, telling them stories about his early days in the navy. Apparently he'd been rather good at dropping things, falling over when a big wave hit, and running into various large objects on deck. It was hard for her to reconcile the confident (ahem, cocky) pirate she knew with a bumbling sailor who had barely gotten his feet wet. At the same time, she somehow had no problem picturing him as a sailor doing his duty for his king rather than a pirate who did nothing for anyone but himself. Then again, she hadn't really seen him as that pirate in a while.
After she paid the tab (the waitress looking almost glum by this point, hopefully the tip would make up for it), they stuffed themselves back into the Bug and headed for a motel she knew.
Hook and Henry followed her inside. They distracted themselves with the brochure stand and pictures on the wall as she spoke with the desk clerk. "How many nights will you be staying?"
"Just the one, for now."
"Alright, ma'am, and how many rooms will you need?" Good question.
"Hey, Killian," Emma called across the small and empty lobby. "Do you want your own room?"
"Oh, I'm sure we'll be fine with one," he replied with a smirk. She gave him a warning look accompanied by a pointed glance at her son. And the innuendo returns. She couldn't say she was surprised, or even disappointed really. She had almost missed his teasing. Just not around my son, please.
"One room, two queen beds," she said as she turned back to the clerk.
"Alright, you'll be in room 116. Here are your cardkeys, and your room is just down the hall to the right."
She took the cards and thanked the clerk. "Alright boys, let's grab our stuff."
She left most of the bags in the car, grabbing only her overnight bag, the bag of magic stuff, Henry's bag, and the bag o' cash. She did make sure to grab her gun and check that Hook had his. "It probably goes without saying, but we don't want you to get caught with that. I didn't think to have a gun license forged for you."
"Not to worry," Hook assured her as he tucked the gun under his long jacket. She took a moment to appraise him.
"Speaking of going unseen… any chance I could convince you to wear something less conspicuous?"
"Trying to get me out of my clothes are you, Swan?"
Not yet. I mean… absolutely not. Don't go there, self. It's not the moment. Sometimes it was so damned difficult to focus when he smirked at her like that.
"In New York most people probably wouldn't even blink at you. But in Boston, at least, you stick out like… Well, a pirate in Boston."
"Eloquent." How did he get so close to me? She could easily grab him by the jacket and-
"Mom, what's the room number again?" Henry ducked his head out of the motel. Emma managed to take a few steps backward.
"116, I'll be right there."
"Okay," her son shrugged and closed the door.
She cleared her throat. "So, um, clothes?"
"If the lady insists," Hook answered. "If we aren't to be in this city for long, though, will it be necessary? As you said, in New York I should be fine."
"Yeah, I guess. But if anyone here asks, you're going to a costume party." She grabbed the bags and headed inside.
"Oh? And what is my costume?" Hook asked playfully as he followed her.
She grinned over her shoulder at him. "I'm sure you'll come up with something interesting."
Henry was already sitting at a table and looking through his story book by the time they got to the room.
"Kid, why don't you take a shower and get ready for bed? It's been a long day."
"I slept in the car."
"And I can tell you're still tired, so don't even try."
Henry rolled his eyes and grumbled as he dug through his bag for his toothbrush. "I'm probably just going to be sitting in the car all day tomorrow, anyway. I can sleep then." His grumbling was cut off when he shut the bathroom door.
Emma closed her eyes for a minute and just breathed deep. That came sooner than I thought it would. "Door or window?" She asked Hook as she opened her eyes.
"Sorry?"
"Do you want the bed by the door or the window?"
"Either is fine."
"I'll let Henry choose then. Give him at least some say in this 'grand adventure'." Emma set the bags of money and magic in the small dresser between the beds.
"He'll be alright, love." Hook watched her with concern
"I know. I just don't know that he realizes that this is how it'll be. We'll be looking for someone with magic, looking over our shoulders for Pan, and making sure Henry's safe. This 'grand adventure' is going to include a lot of Henry sitting around doing nothing and hating it." And there's that suffocating feeling I was waiting for. Hello old friend, I'm surprised you kept me waiting.
"He'll be alright. He'll understand, even if he hasn't yet." When Emma didn't reply beyond a perfunctory nod of her head, he decided it was time for a subject change. "What's on the agenda for tomorrow?"
"I want to drop by Kyrie's apartment. If she's not there I'll stop at a few places I know she frequents and leave letters."
"Aren't you afraid someone might read them?"
"They don't say much, and they're in code. After that, I'd like to leave for New York."
"Why New York? Didn't you say the healer that August told you of was in Hong Kong?"
"Yeah, he's also very dead. New York attracts lots of kinds of people. At the very least we'll be able to ask around, maybe get a hint on somewhere else to look. We'll probably have to go out of the country eventually." Which made her realize that she hadn't known to have papers made for her son. She dug through his bag. "Good, Regina had Gold get a passport for Henry, too." Gold have even given them the same last name. Convenient, as two Turners and a James going through customs wouldn't raise flags like a juvenile Mills with two dissimilarly named adults.
Henry came out of the bathroom freshly showered and dressed in his pajamas.
"Henry, should we take the bed by the window or the door?"
"Door." Hook seemed to draw some conclusion from this short answer that Emma missed. I'll have to find some way of bringing that up without making it look like I'm asking him for insight into my own son. And suddenly I know how Regina felt when she didn't know about the story book.
"Alright." She waited a moment to see if he'd say anything else. When he just climbed under the covers of his chosen bed, she sat next to him and told him the (very short-term) plan. "Tomorrow after we get up it's going to be check out, breakfast, search for an old friend of mine, then leave for New York."
"Fine, goodnight mom." After a moment he added "goodnight Killian."
Emma looked at Hook with an almost helpless look on her face. She had to find a way to save her town while keeping her son safe from a psychopathic teenager who may or may not be looking for them. Which, for the moment at least, meant letting Henry be unhappy. Better bored and unhappy than excited and dead… Not that that makes this any easier. In not even a few hours they had gone from laughing through dinner to him barely speaking to her. The playfulness she had felt earlier flirting with Hook, that warmth when they were all laughing over dinner, the few good moments she'd had earlier that day were forgotten. Though given the circumstances that set this trip in motion, maybe I shouldn't be having them at all.
As she grasped the necklace that her father had given her, Hook brushed his hand against the side of her face. "He'll be alright," he whispered before he got in his own bed and turned out the light.
Yes, I'm sure we'll all wake up tomorrow and everything will be A-okay. And I haven't been overusing my inner sarcastic voice today at all.
A/N: Mid-season finale tonight! Bittersweet; it will probably be a great episode, but nothing new until March. *sad face*
Reviews are food and constructive criticism is dessert! Seriously, though.
Question: Does anyone know how much time is supposed to have passed in Storybrooke between the beginning of the series and now? The first season seemed to pretty well follow the week-in-life-is-a-week-in-show standard, but seasons two and three don't quite seem to line up that way. At least for the Enchanted Forest and Neverland portions.