Everyone seemed worried about Ava showing up...I think her story will surprise you.

Chapter 11

Ava's words triggered a switch inside and even with all the soul searching and growth living in Storybrooke had brought, she couldn't keep her childhood cape away. As she wrapped it around her body, she became the Emma Swan she thought her family expected to see.

She stood a bit taller. Don't slouch Emma. Chin up. Chest out.

She smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. It's important to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Her voice became clipped, losing much of the intonation she used to express how she felt. Overexcitement will never do.

Hands that cared for animals one minute and were used to express the next were glued to her side bunched into fists. Don't wave your hands around when you talk, Emma, it's quite distracting.

"Mother," Emma stepped aside. "Won't you come in?"

When Ava stepped across the threshold, Emma expected the space around her to shrink, as she had always seen her mother as someone who was larger than life. But this time, that didn't happen. This time when her mother stepped into her space, Ava became just another occupant. Why?

"Emma," Ava squeezed her daughter's arm in greeting as she entered, "this place is very..."

Here it comes, Emma thought. What derogatory comment is she going to use? Pedestrian, perhaps?

"Professional." Her mother finished, causing Emma pause.

"How did you find me?" Emma wondered aloud but then answered her own question, "Walter," she decided, remembering the private detective that had been used by her family since she was a child.

"You sent me a birthday card, remember?" Ava claimed. "Your return address was included."

Emma vaguely recalled grabbing a card at some point and addressing the envelope, but couldn't recollect mailing it, "Oh, right." A self-deprecating smile crossed her face, "I've been busy."

Ava inclined her head in the same regal manner she always had that made whomever she was talking to feel as if they had her undivided attention. "I'm sure." Her eyes moved off Emma and around the room, "It's not easy running a small business all on your own."

"I have help," Emma bristled at what felt a little like an insult. "Ruby and Leroy..." But her voice trailed off when she realized her mother wasn't listening to her but was slowly perusing the room.

Emma took the opportunity to observe the woman who had given her birth, because at first glance she didn't recognize her. Ava was dressed in jeans and a beat-up old leather jacket. Gone were the designer dresses and heels she had always worn.

Boots covered her feet, but not designer boots with heels so high you had to worry about falling. She was wearing cowboy boots; very scuffed cowboy boots.

Even her smell was different. Her usual fragrance had been exchanged for a clean musky smell making Emma feel as if she had been thrown into an alternate reality. But if that were true, who was real? Her? Ava? Or both?

"Were you in the area?" It had to be the only reason why Ava would have come to see her.

"No," Ava answered absently studying pictures of animals on the wall.

"Business?" Emma tried again.

"No," Ava responded, this time moving on to look at the large fish tank in the corner.

"But.." Emma began.

Only for Ava to interrupt, "I'm sorry to just show up like this, but," she shrugged her slim shoulders, "I just..." She bit her lip and Emma had the strangest feeling her mother was nervous, but...that couldn't be. Nothing made Ava King nervous, did it?

"I just wanted..." A knock on the door had her lifting a brow, a trait Emma knew she had inherited.

Knowing immediately Killian had arrived to pick up his kittens, Emma felt a fleeting sense of panic rush through her system. She didn't think she was ready for her past life to crash into her present one just yet.

"I need to get this," Emma started moving toward the door. "Would you like to wait upstairs in my apartment?"

When Killian had driven up to the clinic and noticed the bright red jeep with the Massachusetts plates parked in front, a myriad of emotions had risen inside.

Jealousy

Frustration

Disappointment

Emotions that he had never felt for any other female except Emma. Emotions that quickly morphed into others as he stepped from the car and made his way to the door.

Anxiousness

Anticipation

And then as the door swung open,

Awareness.

"Hi, Doc," Killian smiled at the woman who had invaded his dreams.

"Killian," Emma could hear the difference in how she said his name, but with her mother standing there...listening, she felt as if she were frozen in time. She was still the 12-year-old looking for acceptance.

He could feel his smile change into something more predatory because while this wasn't his Emma, he was very, very curious as to what was going on. She hadn't invited him in, but that had never stopped him before, "Are my girls ready?" He stepped through the door bringing his body close enough to invade her space.

The quick inhalation she took was her only outward sign that everything was not as it seemed, "Where's your cage?" she practically spit out. "That was number one on the list."

"Oh, come on, Doc." Killian asserted, pleased that her change in behavior wasn't because of her feelings for him. "They're just tiny things. They'll be fine without a cage."

Her sense of smell betrayed her, allowing his essence to seep around the edges of her cape. Damn, she thought, straightening her spine even more. "Never mind. I have something you can use." She stepped back to shut the door, "Right this way."

Prissy, the description crossed Killian's mind as he took a step to follow. Sexy, he thought noticing the gentle sway of her hips.

"Emma," a dark-headed woman stepped from of the shadows, "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

Killian watched Emma take a deep breath and square her shoulders, as if she wasn't anxious to do what she was preparing to do.

"Mother," Emma smiled, but the muscles in her face felt stiff, as if her smile was unnatural. "Meet Killian. He's here to pick up his new pets. Killian, my mother, Ava King."

Several thoughts crossed Killian's mind at the same time ranging from, her mother, that's a surprise to so this is the mother. "Mrs. King," Killian addressed the older woman, "I see now where Emma gets her beauty."

"It's Ava, please," the brunette corrected him, "and thank you. It's always nice to meet Emma's friends."

What the heck is she talking about? Emma glanced at her mother with confusion. Meeting my friends? Since when had she ever wanted to meet her friends? Elsa was the only one she knew. "Mom, if you'll excuse us. They're in here, Killian."

"Do you need any help?" Ava asked before they had escaped.

"No, no help. I'll be right back." Emma hurriedly left, not saying anything more to Killian until they were away from her mother. "Now, let me get something to help you transport them."

Watching her scurry around the room, her movements stiff and formal, bruised Killian's heart, making him want to take her in his arms and just hold her. "Emma?" She turned so quickly he was afraid she would lose her balance and cause the boxes she was rummaging through to topple. "Run into some of those ghosts?"

This time it was her sense of hearing that let her down, allowing the sound of his voice to reach inside to touch her heart. It wasn't just the smooth cadence of his British accent nor was it just the fact that he used similar words to an earlier message. It was so much more.

Her eyes met his and what she saw in them melted her cape away. "You could say that, but," she took several steps in his direction, "how did you know?"

Killian met her in the center of the room, "Encountered my share in New York," he shared quietly.

"And what happened?" She knew the answer before he ever opened his mouth. His ghosts were what he had laid to rest.

"Conquered them," he admitted before quickly amending his response, "most of them at least."

Could she do that? "Perhaps we have more in common than I thought," she conceded.

A flirty smile crossed his lips and his eyes crinkled at the corners, "I'd bet on it." He couldn't not touch her, "If I can be so bold and say that when it comes to ghosts and parents, try to remember behaviors viewed through the lens of childhood often look much different when viewed with adult eyes and experiences."

Her father's letter and blog entries crossed her mind. A prime example of all not being what it seemed, "I get that." Her smile grew, "Thank you...again."

"Anytime, Doc." He winked. "Anytime."

While she was folding the box to become a travel carrier, capturing the kittens and giving Killian instructions, Emma didn't worry about her cape reappearing. She was comfortable with him and no longer felt the need to pretend. How could she keep that cape at bay and have a much needed and tough conversation with her mother?

"Any questions?" She asked moving to lead him back the way they had come.

"No," Killian assured her, "I think I can handle it."

Emma studied him for several seconds, "Let me know if you need me, okay?"

"I will," his voice dropped into a huskier range. "And you let me know if you need me to slay a few ghosts for you, alright?"

"You would, wouldn't you," she acknowledged realizing that her cape had been no match for Killian's persistence.

That she was starting to have faith in him made Killian feel so much at once, that he was at a loss for words, settling on just one, "Aye."

His whispered response hung in the air between them creating a need to drag her against his chest and never let her go. But, with Emma it was always about timing and with her mother waiting in the other room, it wasn't their time. Digging into his reserved strength, he shoved the need aside as he'd done before, "I'd better go and get these girls home."

They walked back into the front room to see Ava standing next to a large bulletin board. A picture of Buster that Ruby had recently added to a too long list caught Emma's eye, "Anything new with Sydney?" she inquired of Killian before he reached the door.

He shook his head sadly, "No, sorry," he admitted.

"And Buster, I thought maybe I'd hold him...," she pointed over her shoulder.

Killian's eyes moved from her to her mom and back again, "He's at the morgue," he finally shared.

"At the morgue?" Emma repeated. "Why?"

He shrugged because as much as he wanted to tell her what he hoped, there was no proof...yet. "It's still an active investigation." He gave her a non-answer hoping that would pacify her for the time being. "I am going to get this guy," he promised her. "He's going to slip up soon."

"Emma, Killian?" Ava had moved closer without either realizing it, "Buster? A morgue? An investigation? Is there a problem?"

Emma's first inclination was to ask her mother why she even cared, but too many years of what was proper had her biting her tongue, "Just a sick individual running over dogs," she finally blurted out.

~~~cs~~~

Killian decided he might not be able to slay all Emma's ghosts, but he could change the subject. Pasting his most charming smile on his face, he turned to Ava. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Ava. How long will you be visiting our fair city?"

Her arched brow and sparkling blue eyes told him she saw right through him, but allowed him to have his way, "Just a short time." She gave him the barest hint of information. "I hope to see you again."

It was at that time that Trudi and Nina began to make their presence known and tiny mews began coming from inside their makeshift cage, "I'd better go."

"Remember, Killian," Emma reminded him. "Keep the girls in that box until you get home."

"I know what I'm doing, Doc. Trust me." With a jaunty wave, he bounded out to his car and set the box on the passenger seat. Before he had even driven off Emma's property the kittens were making so much noise that he stopped, opened the box and tilted it on its side, not having the heart to keep them enclosed.

The night was cold and cloudy and as he drove, he found his thoughts divided. A large part of him was back at the clinic curious about the relationship between the two women. Another part was reviewing the details of the case, wondering why there had been no witnesses and the rest was watching the carrier for signs of movement.

Surprisingly, it didn't take long for Trudi to escape the box and disappear from his sight. Nina followed at a much slower pace, but one minute she was there and the next...gone.

Killian tried to keep one eye on the road and look for them by feeling underneath his seat and as far as he could reach in the back floor. When he had no success, he flipped on the overhead light to glance behind him...nothing. Quickly turning back, he was distracted as a flash of white ran in front of him forcing him to slam on the brakes.

The carrier slid forward barreling into the dash and his seatbelt pulled taut across his chest. The thought, Was that a dog or a wolf? had barely formulated in his head when he was nearly

blinded by the high beams of a car heading directly for him. He braced for impact, but at the last moment the car veered around his and disappeared from sight.

"Bloody hell!" He cried reaching for the door latch to try to get the car's license plate number, only to realize that if he opened the door, the kittens might escape, and he'd never find them. "I'm such a git!" He slapped his hand on the steering wheel in disgust because as sure as he knew his own name, he knew that car had belonged to his dog killer. And had he listened to Emma, he might have been able to get their license plate number without worrying his pets would run away. "Face it, Jones," he spit out. "You're a dick! An arrogant, self-important, stupid dickhead."

With no options at the moment, Killian put the car in gear and started for home. The well-lit parking lot would help him locate his new friends, but what he needed was a plan. One that would help him catch the deranged person who was on the loose.

"We don't need to tell Emma about this," Killian suggested softly. "Right girls?"

Tiny pricks in the lower part of his pants' leg was his first hint that he had a visitor. After detaching her from his leg with one hand he crooned, "Well, hello there, Little Love," to tiny Trudi, feeling her body vibrate as she purred. "Did that scare you?"

While he hated listening to them cry, he knew now it was much safer with them contained. "Won't be long," he promised, setting her inside the box.

"Nina," he called in a low voice. When she didn't immediately show up, the irrational thought that maybe she had escaped almost caused him to panic. But his rational side returned and before he was home, both kittens were back where they belonged.

The beginnings of a plan to catch the killer had also begun to tease around the edges of his brain. "I'm going to get you," he promised, hoping it was

soon.

~~~cs~~~

Emma and her mother had been under the same roof for several hours and the more that she was around Ava, the more she was convinced the woman was a stranger. Not that she hadn't always felt as if they came from two different worlds, but in her twenty-seven years, she couldn't ever remember Ava cooking. And to discover that grilled cheese and soup was something both enjoyed had further confused her. How was she to connect the images in her head?

After eating they had moved into the living room and while there had been times when she thought Ava was going to explain why she had shown up, it was as if she were shying away from the subject. Instead, her mother had flitted from topic to topic, asking pointed questions about her life in Storybrooke. Details that as a child, she had wanted to share, but as an adult had her wondering about an ulterior motive.

Was there something that had precipitated this change in behavior? "Mom, are you sick?" Emma blurted without any preamble. When Ava didn't immediately deny the question and her eyes skittered away, a coldness appeared inside. She might not have the relationship with her mother she desired, but she didn't want her to die.

"No," Ava frowned, "why would you think that?"

Emma lifted a brow, "Well, let's see." She held up. a finger, "No designer clothes. Jeans and boots. New perfume. Grilled cheese and idle chit chat and, "she hesitated and lifted a fifth finger, "you have never just shown up without wanting something. You said you weren't in the area or here for business, so what is it?"

If she hadn't been staring, she wouldn't have noticed it happening, but her mother unexpectantly transformed before her eyes. Suddenly, it was as if a light had gone off in her head and Killian's words about seeing things through the eyes of a child made sense. Her mother had a cape too. How could she have missed that?

"I'm sorry," Ava stood up quickly. "I'll get out of your way."

Emma blinked rapidly trying to clear her thoughts, but it wasn't until her mother had disappeared down the stairs that her muscles received the message to move. "Mom, wait." She caught up with Ava just as she'd reached the bottom. "I'm...I'm sorry." And she found herself repeating the same words she'd said to Killian, "Seems maybe we have more in common than I thought."

"What are you talking about?" Ava's clipped voice was the same one she remembered from childhood.

Emma lightly scoffed at her mother's abrupt denial, "We're both good at pretending," she addressed the elephant in the room. "Aren't we?"

Ava's crystal-clear blue eyes bore into her green ones making her feel like a cheyletiella under the lens of a microscope. The longer she stood there under her mother's scrutiny the harder she had to fight the urge not to grab her cape and hide. But where did that get them? Storybrooke had changed her in ways she'd never anticipated and for many reasons, she was trying not to look backwards, but instead move forward. Would her mother meet her halfway?

Soft music playing, a clock ticking, the rustle of the kittens playing, and her heartbeat were the only sounds that could be heard as mother and daughter stood in the lowlight of the staircase. Must be where I got my stubborn gene, floated through her mind, as neither woman appeared willing to give.

Millicent chasing one of the kittens out and back through a door just beyond Ava pulled Emma's attention away from the showdown. It would be so easy to just walk away and allow the furry felines to distract, but a low sound, one she'd never associated with her mother had her eyes returning and her legs giving way.

A soft sniffle and tears running down her mother's cheeks had Emma sinking to the top step. She was seeing another first as she couldn't ever remember seeing Ava King cry. Had her mother even cried at Grandfather Leo's funeral?

"I guess we are," Ava sniffed.

Emma noticed the moment her mother's cape disappeared, but still couldn't force her legs to move. "Are you sure you want to hear what I have to say?" Ava continued in a soft voice.

Fighting the need to roll her eyes, Emma sent her mother a slight smile, "I've been told that sharing your burdens helps. I'm here...you're here so..."

A resigned look crossed Ava's face but without another word she followed Emma back upstairs.

"Have a seat, Mom," Emma pointed to the sofa, "I'm going to grab us something to drink. What would you like? Wine?"

"No," Ava surprised her by answering. "Do you have," she smiled as a far-off look crossed her face, "hot chocolate by any chance?"

And there's another, Emma thought with a tiny smile.

A short time later, Emma handed Ava her drink and sunk onto the sofa next to her. She couldn't help but compare this situation to the one she was in just a few weeks ago. Sharing with Elsa had been both difficult and freeing. Would what her mother has to say be the same way...for both of them?

"Did you ever know," Ava quietly began, "the cause of your Grandfather Leo's death?"

The question startled her and a sinking feeling appeared in the middle of her chest, "Heart attack, I think." Emma shrugged as she couldn't remember it ever being discussed, so how she knew that was a mystery.

"Massive heart attack brought on by hypertension," Ava shared. Her lips twisted in derision, "Stubborn old coot. Doctors tried to warn him, but he didn't pay attention."

Emma listened as her mother spoke of how her father had sheltered her from much that life had to offer by keeping her locked away in an ivory tower. Of how that time and again she had escaped trying to capture an elusive something but was never able to hold on to anything for long.

"I thought Peter Swan was going to be my Flynn Rider," she admitted with a sad smile. "But instead, he turned out to be the Gothel in my story and the tower I was locked away in was much taller, much stronger than I had ever expected."

"But why?" Emma still didn't understand. "You could have done anything you wanted. Why stay in an unhappy situation?"

Ava stood and paced around the room as she talked. Her story was one of being born at a certain time and being groomed for a high-profile position, but as a female being told you couldn't have it all. Her sexuality, her family, her needs were shoved aside for the greater good of King Industries. "And by the time my father passed, it was my normal."

She stopped, pinning Emma in her gaze, "I'm not trying to make excuses, just," she shrugged and resumed moving, "trying to explain. But then..."

There were parts of Ava's story that Emma had known, parts she had been unfamiliar with and parts she found herself being able to relate. Her profession alone had undergone a huge shift from being 98% male to 80% female in fifty years. But even with that she had felt the need to work harder, be better. What must it be like to take on a huge corporation that was primarily male?

Her mother stopped in front of an ornate mirror hanging on the wall and was quiet for several minutes as she studied her reflection. "Have you ever looked at yourself and not recognized the person looking back?" she asked softly.

"Sure," Emma admitted. "I think everyone does that at one time or other. Our family especially, hence my pretending comment."

"No," Ava clarified. "I'm talking literally not recognizing yourself."

A diagnosis in a textbook from long ago popped into Emma's head, "Prosopagnosia?" Her mother nodded forcing Emma to dig into her memory banks. "But...that usually follows a brain injury or...stroke."

"Just a mini one, thank goodness," Ava confessed. "But scary enough to force me to take a hard look at my life and realize that fifty was too young to die." She sat back down, retrieving her cup of hot chocolate.

Her mother had a stroke. That statement kept running around inside Emma's head, "When did this happen and why am I just hearing about it?" she snapped, annoyed for some reason that such a life-altering situation had occurred without her knowledge.

"Not long after the new year," Ava finally divulged. "As to why you didn't know, well...I'm telling you now."

Emma could think of a dozen comments, but each had the power to create a greater division between her and Ava. Besides, what right did she have to demand answers when she was just as guilty of holding things inside? "What happened?" she finally settled on.

Her mother's story was not unlike what she had expected. The high-powered corporate lifestyle that involved too many late meetings, stressful negotiations and constant travel. She had combined that with too little sleep and too little time to be in tune with her body until, "One morning I woke up and just felt off, but I didn't listen and went into the office anyway."

The emotion in her mother's voice affected Emma almost more than the words. It was the emotion that showed just how much the situation had scared Ava King. Emotion, that if she hadn't heard it with her own ears, she wasn't sure she would have believed.

"I was in the middle of an international teleconference," Ava continued, "with multiple conversations going on around me when suddenly I felt dizzy. Excusing myself, I stepped into the ladies room, splashed cold water on my face, looked in the mirror and..."

A cold kernel of dread sat in the pit of Emma's stomach as her mother went on with her story.

Taking a deep breath, Ava returned to her narrative, "When I looked into the mirror, I didn't recognize the woman looking back at me."

A gasp escaped before Emma could stop it and the kernel bloomed, "Oh! But, you're okay now?"

Learning that her mother had been found unconscious and rushed to the emergency room when she'd had no knowledge had the cold inside spreading. Hearing that Ava King, President of King Industries had been felled by a stroke but saved by a modern injection reversing any damage, sent the cold to the tips of her fingers and the soles of her feet. The realization that she no longer wanted to exist on the outside surprised her, but not really. Perhaps, this was what she had been working toward since arriving in Storybrooke.

"Several hours later," Ava went on, "I looked in a mirror again and this time, you know what I saw?"

Emma shook her head, the lump in her throat stopping any semblance of voice, but she guessed it wasn't the black hair, bright blue eyes and a creamy complexion she had as always seen before.

"I saw an empty life," Ava gave a harsh laugh. "Imagine that...I had wealth and thanks to modern medicine my health, and power."

Ava stopped talking and took hold of Emma's hand before finishing, "But I didn't have my daughter standing next to me or her respect. I didn't have someone with whom I could share my life and grow old. That stroke was both a blessing and a curse. I have a chance at a do-over. How many get that opportunity?"

"Not many," Emma murmured, looking down at their joined hands. "So now what?" She met Ava's gaze with a crooked smile, "Somehow, I don't see you sitting around eating bon bons and twiddling your thumbs."

"Well," Ava smiled conspiratorially, "I want to start a not for profit and mentor women who are starting their own businesses."

"A worthwhile endeavor," Emma concurred. "And King Industries?"

The family keeps the majority stock, but I hired someone to run its daily operations," Ava clarified. "I want to get to know my daughter and," a twinkle appeared in her eye, "find my own Flynn Rider."

"Did you add that to your day planner?" Emma teased, knowing that part of her list generating had been from watching Ava write everything down in the book she was never without.

"And what if I did?" Ava's smile turned impish. "A girl can never be too prepared." Her voice dropped into a playful tone and she gently bumped against Emma's arm. "Is Killian your Flynn Rider by any chance?"

Emma's head whipped around, but she couldn't get her mouth to work, opening and closing it several times before anything came out, "Wh...what makes you say that?" she squeaked.

"Ha!" Ava chuckled. "The sparks were flying back and forth between you two."

"Well, we're," Emma tried to justify, but gave up when her mother's expression said she wasn't buying it.

"Emma," Ava's tone turned serious once again, "can I give you a piece of advice?" With a subtle nod of her head, Emma encouraged her to continue. "If you find that you have a good thing, hold on to it tightly with both hands, because you never know..."

Unshed tears glistening in her mother's eyes propelled Emma forward into Ava's arms. Her embrace was maternal and felt like a new beginning...for both of them. "You know," Emma murmured thinking of Killian's words, "You know mom, the journey isn't only where you've been, but where you're going. I think maybe we're finally on our way...together.

"Me too, Honey," Ava hugged her tighter. "Me too.

~fin

See you next week for Chapter 12.