[A/N]: Yo dee yo! Hey, it's me! Remember me? No? Okay. So this chapter was supposed to be done yesterday, but you know... Stuff... and things (ten points to whoever gets that reference). Anywho, please enjoy this chapter! Sorry about any grammar/spelling you may find, I'll go over it tomorrow. ~Sam

Thank you to everyone that's still sticking with this fic, you guys are the actual best. It means a lot that you like this fic and care enough to support it! Seriously, if some of you hadn't PMed me about this fic, I wouldn't have ever gotten to it. So, thank you again and enjoy (again)! By the way, listen to "The Weight of Us," by Sanders Bohlke. I was listening to it the whole time I was writing this!


Chapter Eleven

Drift


/drift/ - noun: a continuous slow movement from one place to another.


Emma sighed as she took a big gulp of water from a small mug she had cradled in her hands. The deck was busy, as always. The crew shuffled around, moving boxes and pulling ropes, simply keeping themselves occupied. The air around the Jewel was considerably lighter now that everyone had the proper amount of time to mourn and come to terms with what had happened to their shipmates. It had been six days since then, and now it seemed like people were gaining higher spirits, glad to be out of the Black Sea and excited to be going home.

The last few days had been tedious for Emma. Even though she had said countless times that she was fine, her mother insisted she stay in bed for at least two days. Though, in the end she broke. She could only read so much about dark fairy dust that could change people into bugs, and what it takes to open and close a magic portal. She was sick of it. The morning of the third day was the moment she had downright refused to stay holed up in her cabin. Her mother had argued with her at first, but in the end, she gave in and allowed her to go up to the deck, probably knowing that she was fighting a losing battle.

The breeze of the sea felt fresh, so much cleaner than the stale fog that they had inhaled for days in the Black Sea. Now that they were out of those accursed waters, the estimate time of their return home had gone up by six days-, nearly a week. Through all the mayhem, Emma hadn't realized that they had she had been aboard the ship for almost three weeks now, and this worried her.

Normally, it wouldn't have been too much of a problem. Red would be furious, Grumpy would pout, August would scold them, but it being a bit late to get home wouldn't mean too much trouble. However, now they had a deadline. If what Rumplestiltskin said was true, then they only had four days to get back to the kingdom before the Evil Queen's forewarned attack would strike. Liam had promised to get her family back home as quickly as he could, but it was a half-empty vow with the odds of time already against them. Four days. That was two days less then what they needed, and that was without the guarantee that they wouldn't run into any delays.

There was nothing to be done, though. Her parents couldn't send out a message ahead, as they had no means of sending it and they were being very cautious about what their next plan of action would be. If they did anything to indicate where the Jewel was located, there was no doubt that Regina would find them, even by sea.

"We're just taking precautions," Her father had said. "Joel found the Dark One's communication scroll in the captain's quarters earlier the morning of the Kraken attack when he was looking at maps. If Rumplestiltskin found us out here, then that means that the Evil Queen can as well, and we absolutely cannot have that." Emma felt a twinge of pity for her mother and father at times like these. As the king and queen, it was their duty to keep everyone in the kingdom safe. While sending a letter to the kingdom in advance would be beneficial, it would also give away the ship's position, not only make them completely vulnerable, but risk the lives of everyone on the ship. Sacrificing one group of people for another, albeit, larger one was not something her parents would ever be capable of doing.

Emma gazed at the royal couple from across the deck. They stood near the undamaged side of the vessel, whispering quietly to each other. Her father was hunched over the side of the railing, his head slightly bowed, while her mother put her arms around his shoulders and leaned her head against his upper arm. It was an endearing sight for all the wrong reasons. A frown slowly pulled down on her lips the longer she stared at her distraught parents.

The sound of boots stepping towards her caused her to turn her head and she was slightly shocked to see Joel standing in front of her with a kind smile on his face. It was such an adorable look that she couldn't help but return the gesture. He scratched the back of his head, and suddenly the small smile became an uncertain, sheepish look. "Hello, princess," she did her best not to cringe at the title. "Do you mind if I sit?" He gestured to the spot on the wooden crate beside her.

"Not at all," Emma replied and the man sent her another grin before plopping down on the space next to her. She noticed that he was seated at the very edge of the crate, as far away from her as he could possibly be without falling off the box altogether. The thought of him being so shy, yet opening up slightly made her chuckle. He's a strange man, she thought.

The two of them sat in silence until the young Sub-Lieutenant spoke, much to her surprise. "They appreciate it," was all he murmured.

Turning to him, she cocked her head to the side curiously, "What?"

"The crew, the men, they appreciate what you did that day," he elaborated. When she continued to look at him puzzled, he went on. "When the Kraken attacked, you stepped up. I just-, uh, thought it was wrong that no one has thanked you for that yet…"

Emma simply sent him a smile, knowing that he was beginning to feel uncomfortable again. "I wasn't expecting any. What I did was purely improvised and it managed to save our lives." Most of them, She added mentally. "Thank you, though."

"Right… It's nothing much," Joel nodded furiously and turned away with red cheeks as there was a pause in the conversation. They watched a few sailors walk by, carrying cannon balls to reload the mechanisms with them. The pair of them stared on at the business of the crew, taking in the normality of the situation. It was almost too normal.

Emma's hands twitched and both her feet tapped rapidly against the ground. In her peripheral vision, she could see Joel sending her glances, but he didn't say anything about her fidgeting, and instead sat quietly and stiffly on the crate, as if he weren't allowed to move. Finally, the jittering in her hands and feet got to the better of her. She needed to do something, anything, even if it was just busy work, she didn't want to stay still.

With every intention of standing up and finding something productive to do, her plan was halted when a figure came to stand in front of her and the Sub-Lieutenant and as soon as the person spoke, she knew who it had to be. "Sub-Lieutenant, my brother needs your assistance in the captain's quarters at once," Killian informed his crewmate plainly. Emma glanced at the younger Jones as he stared at the younger man beside her, his gaze boring into the poor, seemingly frightened Sub-Lieutenant.

Joel shot up from his seated position and started to speed walk away from them, throwing the words over his shoulder, "Right! I-I'll just go do that right now, sir!" She noticed that the Lieutenant didn't let his gaze meet hers until Joel was behind the door of the captain's quarters. If she didn't know any better, she would say he was almost glaring.

"You do realize that you probably just made his heart stop five times in the last two minutes?" Emma asked him, half-joking. "Your delivery could have been a bit gentler."

His narrowed eyes slid to her and he tucked his thumb under his belt, muttering, "Didn't mean to startle him…"

"Yes, well, I don't think he meant for that either," she prodded again, smirking at the Lieutenant.

He raised a brow at her, "Well, you seem to be in a mood. What's got you so excited? It's odd to see you acting so… wistful." He smirked back before sitting down in Joel's old seat with a heavy sigh, except he had no problem with their closeness, causing him to take up as much room as he pleased. They both sat together casually, as if they had been friends for years. The situation was odd, indeed.

Three weeks ago, Emma would rather gargle acid than sit beside Killian Jones.

Now, here they both were, lounging around, exchanging pleasantries without Emma being prompted so by her mother, and Killian being told off by his brother. It was just so surreal that now she was so much closer to the man she thought she despised. A man whom she thought was uptight and selfish was actually quite different from what she believed. He was strict and by the book, but underneath that, he was caring and compassionate when he wanted to be. Sure, it didn't mean that she loved the man, or was anywhere near willing to get married to him, but she knew now that she didn't hate him.

And she supposed that was always a step in the right direction.

Emma glanced at the man beside her, but ended up staring at him with a curious gaze. He raised an eyebrow in question, and she finally spoke. "I'm just glad to be out of that stuffy cabin," she breathed with a satisfied sigh. She heard a small chuckle leave the Lieutenant's lips, but other than that, he said no more. A steady silence enveloped them, until she suddenly inquired, "Did you agree to marry me?"

The Lieutenant's head whipped in her direction while his wide eyes met hers. His jaw dropped slightly in bafflement. "W-What?"

"I'm not exactly certain at where our arranged marriage stands at the moment, with the kingdom being in crisis and the fact that I know I didn't give my consent for it… I suppose I just wanted to know if you ever did," she shrugged, turning away from his piercing stare to look at the ocean. Despite telling herself that it was natural, she knew that averting her eyes from Killian's was to save her from some of the embarrassment she was feeling at the moment.

There was a brief pause and then, "I didn't."

She looked to him, not understanding, "What?"

"You asked me if I agreed to marry you. I didn't," he explained simply. Emma blinked, finally processing what he had said. Of course he didn't want to marry her. They had known each other for only four years, and almost all of that time had been spent loathing one another. They weren't exactly the best of friends now, but at least one could start a decent conversation without leering at the other. Things were getting better, but it would take time, like everything else.

Emma nodded, "I understand… Besides, I don't think I could put up with a man like you, Lieutenant," she teased, trying to lighten the mood. "I could only think of all the nagging and pestering you would do. You remind me of Granny on her bad days."

He sent her a glare, but she could see that there was no heat behind it. "Are you indirectly calling me old?"

"Would that be an insult if I were?"

"A bit, yes."

"Then I am most definitely calling you old," she confirmed with a devilish grin. "All you need is the crossbow and glasses, and you would look just like Granny." Emma snickered as the man gave her a harsh look. However, she could see the way the corners of his lips were slightly quirked upwards.

Killian's eyebrows rose, "I wouldn't tease so much, Swan. You're only, three, four years younger than me? Liam told me that you're soon to be twenty-three," he shot back, smirking victoriously when her face fell.

Emma muttered, "He can remember that, but he can't remember to be early to any of his appointments?"

"He has a selective memory," the younger Jones shrugged.

She snorted, "Selective isn't exactly the word I would use."

Killian let out a low, rumbling laugh as he fiddled with the cuffs on his jacket. He seemed to be in deep thought about something, for he let the playful conversation end there. Emma sat there awkwardly, not exactly sure on what to do or say. Luckily, she wasn't left to her thoughts much longer, for the Lieutenant spoke, taking up a certain level of seriousness in the tone of his voice.

"In all honesty, Swan, there were many reasons not to marry you. The first one, being obvious, was that I never found you to be the best of company since a few weeks ago," he admitted bluntly. Emma was about to say something sassy in return, but he continued. "The second reason was one similar to my the previous one. I knew from the moment we exchanged our first words at the port, you felt like I did. You didn't want to be forced into the marriage either. The last reason was that it just didn't feel right," he laughed, almost bitterly. "Call me naïve for thinking this way, but marriage should be something a loving couple shares together. You don't love me, and I don't love you… We would be making ourselves miserable if we went through with this marriage," he finished.

Emma mused at his words. He had really put a lot of thought into this whole situation, much more thought than she expected anyone ever would. She remembered the first time the arrangement was mentioned to her. It was a quiet night at dinner, and her mother had casually brought it up. Emma remembered the amount of distaste she felt towards the man, Killian Jones, at the thought of being married to him. The queen had insisted that he was a proper gentleman that was kind and honorable, and even her father had thrown in some reluctant praises here and there.

Perhaps, this is what they saw in Killian. He wasn't a man that would jump into the engagement. Maybe, what appealed to her parents was the fact that he was so hesitant to marry her at all. He was noble and considerate, and while he could loosen the reins on things from time to time, he was quite endearing in his own, stubborn way. Pairing her with, Killian, a man who thought in reverse seemed like the kind of backwards thinking her parents would do.

"Who knew we were the romantic types?" Emma laughed airily.

"You may be, but if anyone asks me, this conversation never happened," He sent her an amused look and she smirked back, but it was short-lived, as she became serious once more.

And silence enveloped them.

"You know," she started, breaking the quiet barrier that had slowly began to fold around them. "If you were to ask me to marry you at this very second, I would most likely ask you if the ocean was red." He gave her a puzzled look when she stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to respond the question.

"No?" He finally tried.

"And that would be my answer. Then, I would tell you to go walk yourself off the plank. It just… I wouldn't be respecting myself if I allowed myself to be given away like that. Besides, I hardly know anything about you. At least you know the day of my birth," she murmured.

Killian just scoffed, "I don't even know that," he sent her a smirk. "Liam just told me you were becoming twenty-three soon; he didn't really elaborate on it." She then remembered that the only real reason why they were even speaking to one another was because they were stuck on the ship. Emma couldn't help but wonder if their relationship would have advanced this much if they hadn't been forced together by nature. If they hadn't been stranded on the Jewel together, would the glares and snarls of disdain have continued like had before?

Emma sighed, "Then we know virtually nothing about each other." The Lieutenant bobbed his head in quiet agreement.

They were practically strangers.

"Perhaps that should change," the man announced, suddenly. "Swan, I challenge you to a rematch." Killian stood from his seat, staring down at her with a wide, mischievous grin on his face.

She muttered, "And you said I was the childish one… Very well, what are the terms to this duel?" Emma got up from her seat, brushing her pants off before crossing her arms. The Lieutenant began to walk forward and beckoned her to follow, to which she rolled her eyes at, but did so anyways. He led her to the center of the ship, and now heads were starting to turn towards them, curious eyes lingering on their figures.

"The terms are this: we fight with dull blades and both of our objectives is to tap the other person with the flat side of our swords in fatal areas and these will count as hits. For every "hit" we get, we are allowed ask any question we want about the other. Is that fair, enough?" Killian was smirking now, sizing her up, just daring her to back down.

"Those are the terms?" He nodded and Emma snorted, "Then, you better be ready to spill your guts, Lieutenant." His eyes flashed, burning with determination and pride. She return the gaze, not breaking contact with his vibrant blue eyes.

Murmurs and mumbling could be heard from the men in the crew as they continued to stare at the pair of them. Just like before, the crew began to crowd around them, getting ready to watch the fight that was about to commence. From the corner of her eye, she saw the door to the captain's quarters open, revealing the king and queen while Liam and Joel poked their heads out from behind them. Emma's mother stepped forward, obviously wondering what the fuss was about.

"What's going on?" Snow White asked to no one in particular.

Emma answered, "Just a harmless little challenge, mother. The Lieutenant has decided he wants a rematch."